There are certain non-spiritual, but closely held beliefs that sometimes take on great, life-and-death spiritual importance for some people. These beliefs tend to guide decisions and actions in a completely illogical, if comfortable manner.

When you hear words like “should” or “always” or “never” or “ever” always ask, “Why so?” Not asking perpetuates deeply held beliefs that, at the end of the day, many people can’t say why they are so closely held. And, “Because that’s the way we’ve always done it” is not what one would consider to be a “good answer.”

This doesn’t happen quickly, of course. (Heaven forbid Rome should be built in a day.) But once those beliefs take hold it makes GI Joe’s Kung Fu Grip seem like child’s play. Which it is not, but don’t get me started.

(My non-spiritual brethren should feel free to continue reading. This isn’t a religious screed, so come with me brothers for a walk on the wild side.)

Over the last two months, among the several exciting adventures in which I’ve found myself — none of which, by the way, involve incarceration, near-incarceration, or attempted-anything — involves the production of a musical project. To be more specific, the creation of a double-CD and DVD of a two hour live performance of an full orchestra and choir. (For the audio-geeked-out among you, 72 audio tracks and Auto-Tune was not allowed in the studio.)

As a result of that, I’ve (again) found obvious correlations between the world of music and that of mystery entertainment. (It would be a source of endless amusement if I had endless time on my hands.) In the world of music performing, there are certain cardinal rules that simply aren’t broken. Why? Well…because, that’s why. Now run along and play.

We find the same sort of thing in magic and mentalism, too. I suppose it’s human nature to go along with the hallucinations of others if only because there are often bigger fish to fry.

The electric guitar finds its direct roots in the Gibson guitar company and the 1937 release of the electric Spanish guitar, the ES-150, which sold for $150.00. (Actually, the roots probably go back to a couple of thousand years BC with the lute, but let’s go with Gibson for a moment.) The ES — Electric Spanish — line is still being made today. B.B. King’s Lucille is one of the more recognizable examples.

As the basic concept of an electric guitar caught on, other designs found their way into the market and certain styles have become “standards” in the world of guitar playing. And any time you have standards or classics, you’ll find mythical beliefs that may as well be etched on the cheek of The Monument.

A popular mythical belief: either a Gibson Les Paul or a Fender Stratocaster fed into either a tube Marshall or Fender amplifier is the sound of rock. That’s a safe start, anyway.

(Actually, “popular mythical belief” is a bit weak. Blood is often spilled over this point.)

Further granularizing involves questions like which tubes go into the amplifier; which instrument cord goes between the guitar and amplifier; which special effects pedal goes before — and after — which other special effects pedal; which knob should be turned to which number (or fractional number) to get the perfect sound, and which guitar pick to use. (Unless your name is Mark Knopfler in which case, that last question is moot.)

Rising above pedestrian rules is this activity, which deals you the Go Directly to Jail, Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200 card: using anything but a tube amplifier. This is tantamount to blowing your nose on the curtains at the funeral parlor when the casket is opened: it’s just not done.

Another rule: hit records must be recorded in the most expensive studio and produced by the producer who has collected the most number of gold records for previous work. Another rabbit’s foot.

In our weird little corner of the world, we have our own cardinal rules. More on that later.

So, by way of showing what happens when you break all the rules, I give you Boston.

That’s Boston the band, not the town.

And even saying “Boston the band” is a bit of a misnomer. Boston was really Tom Scholz and company. And Tom Scholz had a vision he saw in all its Technicolor glory.

After graduating MIT, having attended on a full scholarship, Scholz took employment with Polaroid, they of film camera fame. Tom worked days being a brilliant engineer, and nights engineering demo recordings of his songs in his basement recording studio. After a few years of this, he shopped his four demo songs to all the record companies he could locate. There was interest, but not a final deal.

Cutting to the chase, a couple of extra songs were recorded which led directly to interest in a record deal with Epic Record company. All fine and good until someone noticed that the band needed to perform live performances, and currently “the band” consisted primarily of Scholz and singer Brad Delp. In short order, other members were brought in and Boston recorded an album.

Sort of.

Having already broken one rule (the band business) Tom proceeded to break a few more. Not interested in having a record company-selected producer lord over his creation and creativity, a studio was rented in California with producer John Boylan hovering over sessions with three of the band members that were actually the decoy for the real recording, which was going on in Scholz’s basement recording studio. With Scholz playing most everything himself and recording most everything himself.

I suppose, if you were to gauge the relative level of rule-breaking, that would have been at the top of the list. The very idea that a record recorded mostly by one man in his basement recording studio would end up being released in the big world of record labels is sort of preposterous. It’s just not done. Ever.

Let’s see. Another broken rule: killer acoustic guitar sound can only come from a Martin acoustic guitar which costs in the neigborhood of a set of dental veneers. However, the acoustic guitar heard on over 16 million copies of the Boston debut album is a cheap $100 Yamaha guitar.

The rest, as they say, is history. Boston’s eponymous debut album is the biggest selling debut album, and tenth best selling album in history. Not bad for breaking a few rules.

Lest one might come to the conclusion that breaking the rules has become embraced, given many examples of unbridled success, I give you: Line 6.

While guitar amplifier manufacturers were still falling over themselves to build and market “real guitar amplifiers” for “real guitarists” Marcus Ryle and Michel Doidic co-founded a little company of ten employees and named it Line 6.

The idea behind Line 6 was simple: use technology (digital sound processing) to “model” the aspects of classic guitar amplifiers. The runaway best selling product — POD — bat the ball out of the park. The maroon colored, kidney bean shaped metal box did a remarkable job of simulating sounds that would cost tens of thousands of dollars to create with the amplifier setups POD modeled.

But don’t mention POD in mixed company. And, really, in one way I can’t blame the purists in their disdain. Many POD users simply plug in a guitar, dial up a preset, and play away. It’s much like doing a trick exactly as it is written up. It’s just not…inspiring.

On the other hand, there are artists who use POD regularly who get fantastic results after spending the time to learn every aspect of the thing, and making changes and tweaks that fit their vision. Same happens when a magic performer learns every aspect of a trick and tweaks until the end result is unique and, well, magical.

Line 6 didn’t stop at modeling guitar amplifiers. A couple of years ago they released the Variax 500 — a modeled electric guitar. Using DSP technology, Line 6 engineers modeled a number of electric, acoustic and specialty guitars, stuffed the results into integrated circuits which were stuffed into an admittedly less-than-stellar guitar body and handed to guitar players emulations of nearly every guitar most of them could never hope to own.

The purists had a fit, pronounced the Variax a failure, and went back to their old standbys. Meanwhile, Line 6 had another smash hit on their hands. Go figure.

All of this was brought back front and center to me yesterday as I received my Line 6 PODxt Live. I was an early adopter of both POD, PODxt (the successor to POD), and the Variax 500, so the PODxt Live was not so much a choice as a natural progression in a disease many of you know well. (It’s okay, no need to stand up and be counted. Just know there are lots of us.)

PODxt Live takes the digital interface cable from the Variax and, essentially, controls it from the footboard. Between the two, a guitar player has at his hands (and feet) just about every desirable guitar amplifier, guitar special effects pedal, and electric and acoustic guitars in any combination he can imagine.

So this is what crack is like.

In a way, this combination is much like certain sets of books in my magic and mentalism library. If I pulled from the shelf the Tarbells, Stewart James books, the Jinx reprints, Mind, Myth & Magic, Complete Magick, and Compleat Invocation, it could be said that I’d have the magic and mentalism equivalent of the PODxt Live/Variax — that is, the raw material to create my own riffs.

Now, I could simply pull any trick from any book and do it precisely as written and I’d have essentially a trick someone else created done as they created it. It is original inasmuch as it was original with them. I’d simply be immitating a riff someone else created.

Not that there’s anything wrong with playing someone else’s riff, if it makes you feel good and you find it good practice. But it’s not creative, and I certainly think it’s dangerous to confuse practice with creativity.

Back to Line 6. There are the guitarist mystics who are not as enamoured with the PODxt/Variax combination, but — in my opinion — for the wrong reasons. Now, I’ve been a collector of BC Rich guitars since the early 80s. I am particularly fond of the Mockingbird and Bich models handcrafted by the late Bernie Rico. I happen to love the sound of one played through my tube amplifier at obnoxiously loud levels. But having spent considerable time tweaking my PODxt, I find I can get the same recorded result from it as I do putting a microphone in front of my Marshall amplifier and speakers.

Magic and mentalism have their own brand of mysticism regarding certain tricks. If I ask you to close you eyes and think of most of the kid shows you’ve seen — maybe even performed — certain tricks come immediately to mind as the canon of kid show performance. Surely the list will include the Magic Coloring Book, Hippity Hop Rabbits, Die Box. (As to Hippity Hop Rabbits, I’d like to mention that Stewart James — and I know you know who is Stewart James and, if not, I don’t want to know — considered HHR one of the greatest magic tricks.)

Why did these tricks end up comprising the Canon of Kid Show Magic?

If you’ve witnessed enough mentalism performances, you have undoubtedly encountered frightenly similar versions (which is a nice way of saying exact copies) of Q&A, Bank Night, Seven Keys to Bald Pate and Chronologue.

Why did these tricks find their way into the Canon of Mentalism Performances?

It’s not that I have anything in particular against the tricks I mentioned above. In fact, I consider them classics. And classics are classics for a reason. But to do the same version as the next guy just isn’t magical.

But that’s secondary to the main point.

Suggest to a performer that maybe they’d do better to replace one of his “standards” with a newer version and you may as well suggest his mother is in the service business (if you know what I mean, and I think you do.)

Why? Not everyone is willing to put in the time and effort naturally required to get satisfying results. Many people are personally perfectly happy with barely adequate. (Audience members are not numbered in that, despite what anyone may tell you.)

Do you put in the time required to be better than adequate? Do you spend the time required to be fully acquainted with the tools of your trade? Do you consider new methods for old tricks? Do you use the tools of our trade when they serve their purpose perfectly? (Ultra Mental comes immediately to mind for some reason.)

Bob Ezrin is a legend in the world of music and making records. He’s the guy behind the sound of Alice Cooper, Kiss, and Pink Floyd’s “The Wall” among numerous releases.

Bob Ezrin uses the Line 6 PODxt and a Variax. Go figure.