As the company grew, Mr Marshall expanded his products, unveiling the Master Volume Marshall amps and the classic JCM800 split channel amps.Here's a picture of mine.
"Jim rose to become one of the forefathers responsible for creating the tools that allowed rock guitar, as we know and love it today, to be born," the statement said.
"In addition to the creation of the amps, chosen by countless guitar heroes and game changing bands, Jim was also an incredibly humble and generous man who, over the past several decades, has quietly donated many millions of pounds to worthy causes."
Rappahannock River Oysters cap courtesy of, I believe, illWill.
Yes, at one time before it was ripped apart by my dangerous, bordering-on-the-should-be-illegal shredding it was in better shape.
It's also the amp that about ten years ago sent me to the hospital for a week-long stay. After a show (I'm "guessing" we NAILed it) during which I (cough) enjoyed a few free libations, I dropped it on my big toe, which was already badly infected thanks to an ingrown nail. The next morning I finally got up the courage to look at it, and just about passed out - it was the size of a pear, and basically split in three. It looked like a clown shoe had thrown up. As I was in the hallway of the emergency room a doctor walked by, glanced at it and did a Scooby-Doo double-take "oh my god!" before running to his buddy doctors, "you gotta see this shit!" Thanks doc!
Anyway, finally the ER doctor shows up and she's like well, the toe is broken in ____ places, and this nail has to come out. Aight, whatevs. Then she says it's gotta come out right away, and she can't give me any anesthesia cause it's too infected. Hmm, I thought. This will be interesting. She advises me that as she starts cutting, I should just start screaming: it would distract me, and it should only take about five minutes. I don't know why I didn't take her advice - the other patients obviously were complete strangers, and half of them seemed to be there for no other reason than being CRAZY. But I didn't yell, and she started cutting. Jesus christ. I gripped the sides of my chair so hard I thought either the chair or my hands might turn to powder, and I bit down on my teeth like I was trying to break the record for biting down on teeth. It's the only time I've experienced cold sheets of sweat rolling down my face. My entire head was clenched and shaking. After what seemed like an eternity plus a viewing of The Shawshank Redemption, she said "okay, now it's REALLY gonna hurt."
Sigh. RIP Jim Marshall.
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