I don't know why (another gnarly 'growth period?') I woke up at 4:00 a.m. with vivid images of guitars and guitar players, in my head, but I did. I shuffled the pictures like a deck of cards. The sturdy, Firebird Red, alien-like Gibson SG - weapon of choice for Pete Townsend and Carlos Santana (Woodstock and beyond). The hefty, elegant, beautifully designed Gibson Les Paul played by, of course, Les Paul, Jimmy Page, Peter Green, Duane Allman, Neil Young (Neil owns a 1953 Les Paul named 'Black Beauty' that plays like no other, Neil can make it rage, wail and squall like a demon burning in hell-fire), Jeff Beck, Mick Taylor, plus millions of hard rockers (heavy metalists love this axe) all over the world. The long, lean, futuristic, Fender Stratocaster - Eric Clapton (Slowhand - written on the walls in England late sixities - 'Clapton is God'), Jimi Hendrix (long-fingered, left-handed, he reversed the order of the strings and played upside down - Jimi was/is the Shakespeare, the Picasso, the Electric Kool-aid Acid Test of the electric guitar) and oh yes, Bob Dylan plays one too.
Then there are the outriders - The Ricknenbacker - bright, chiming - the sound of early Lennon (The Beatles on Ed Sullivan) Tom Petty, Roger Mcguinn (all those brilliant, shining Byrds songs - a Rickenbacker 12-String). George Harrison played everything - an SG, a Les Paul, a Gretsch Country Gentleman. Later, John Lennon modified his Epiphone Casino by stripping it of it's Sunburst paint job (going for a more natural sound) it's the guitar he played on the White Album, Abbey Road, Get Back. Then there's the Fender Telecaster - Keith Richards, Bruce Springsteen. I own a Fender Telecaster Slimline, a hollow-body cousin. It's light, easy to handle, sweet, easy, action, it plays like a dream. What's amazing, is all that these players have a distinctive sound and style. If you listen closely you can tell who's who. It's not just the equipment - it's the pulse in the finger of the player, the indescribable something in the heart and the head, the instinct, the muscle memory, the soul, the human touch. So anyway, after I paged through the list - guitars, magnificent creatures, alive, exotic beings made of wood and electronics - I dozed off again, waking up at six. I got up, brewed up some coffee and wrote this down.