It must have been a BC Rich as it belonged to the younger brother of my buddy Beej and younger brother was a metalhead who aspired to join Dave Murray and Adrian Smith in Iron Maiden.
The next time I ever held a guitar was a good five years later. A housemate in college, Billy, owned a white ’64 Gibson SG.
Many nights we’d be hanging out in the living room watching some bad movie on late-night cable. Billy would be sitting there mindlessly playing scales and, on occasion, he’d show me a chord or two.
Over time, I’d grab the guitar from its case and monkey around with it when Billy was at work and I was likely supposed to be in class.
(cable and a couch trumps class on a cold winter’s afternoon handily)
I figured out how to play Bob Marley’s Redemption Song and I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more of a rush of accomplishment.
Billy noted my increased interest in the instrument. He told me tales of the guitar’s history, of how it had supposedly once changed hands as part of a drug deal and how it had once belonged to a guitarist in a band called Mike & The Raiders.
(it was all so rock and roll)
Obviously I had no way to know how much was true, but the wear and tear apparent in the nicks and scratches on the guitar made anything seem possible.
Billy also had a bit of an agenda. He wanted a Fender Stratocaster.
And so, for a pittance of the SG’s worth, the guitar became mine.
I’d like to tell of how I played it ’til my fingers bled, put a band together, and that I now have a mansion and a yacht. I have no doubt that, in some parallel universe, that is exactly how it played out.
In this universe, the guitar was stolen from our house less than six months after I bought it.
I caught a few breaks, a canary sang, and I tracked the perp – a high school student – to his hometown four hours away.
The police, the attorney of the kid’s parents, and a co-worker that had done six years for armed robbery became involved, but, in the end, the guitar had been destroyed.
(or so I was told)
In some parallel universe, the co-worker did decide to go after the kid and shanked him.
I reaquired the SG, played it ’til my fingers bled, put a band together, and I now have a mansion and a yacht.
Here are four guitar songs…
The Jayhawks – Miss Williams’ Guitar
from Tomorrow The Green Grass
Paloma and I spent innumerable hours listening to Tomorrow The Green Grass, the fourth record by the alternative country-rock band The Jayhawks. Though the group never really broke beyond having a devoted grass-roots following and a slew of swooning critics, the Minneapolis quartet was beloved at the record store where we worked at the time.
Miss Williams’ Guitar had everything we’d come to expect from The Jayhawks – stellar songwriting and musianship delivered in an exuberant mixture of country, folk, and roots rock.
Tomorrow The Green Grass would be the final album that featured the glorious harmonies of vocalists/guitarists Mark Olson and Gary Louris as the former would leave the band and marry folk singer Victoria Williams, the subject of this song.
Steve Earle – Guitar Town
from The Essential Steve Earle
The title track from Townes Van Zandt-protege Steve Earle’s debut album captures the wanderlust of life on the road with humor and twang.
It all rings true when delivered in the rough-hewn vocals of the hard-living Earle and makes the fact that the artist shared bills with Dwight Yoakam and The Replacements at the time seem totally appropriate.
Radiohead – Anyone Can Play Guitar
from Pablo Honey
Though it lacked the distinctiveness that caught the attention of listeners with Radiohead’s more offbeat breakthrough hit Creep, Anyone Can Play Guitar is still a wonderful alternative pop song from the band’s debut.
Mainstream Interest in Radiohead waned in the States following the initial excitement of Creep, but the band remained a favorite of our record store’s staff with the brilliant follow-up album The Bends.
Then came O.K. Computer and Radiohead again – and deservedly – became the “it” band of the late ’90s.
John Cougar Mellencamp – Play Guitar
Growing up in Indiana, any new album from John Cougar was going to get a lot of play on radio.
But, as American Fool had sold millions and been one of the biggest albums of ’82, the release of its follow-up in the autumn of ’83 was treated by local radio as an event. Stations teased the arrival of Crumblin’ Down, the first single, for weeks before its premier.
Though Uh-Huh wasn’t quite the commercial juggernaut that American Fool had been, the singer was now a homegrown institution no matter what his moniker might be and radio latched onto – and played into the ground – almost every cut on the record including the raucous and rebellious Play Guitar.