"You don't buy it," Leo said, unplugging his cable and handing the kid the handle. "You just look after it for a while until it’s someone else's turn."
When he finally flipped the standby switch, the tubes glowed a low, haunting orange. He plugged in his battered Stratocaster and struck a G-major chord. used guitar amp
Leo didn’t mind. He was nineteen, lived in a room that was mostly milk crates and old vinyl, and he needed a voice. He spent three nights with a soldering iron, breathing in the sweet, metallic smoke of lead and rosin. He replaced the dried-out capacitors and cleaned the scratchy pots with a toothbrush. "You don't buy it," Leo said, unplugging his