you're reading...


thanks Mum…

I think it was Gary Moore that said ‘if you can’t walk past your instrument without wanting to pick it up, it’s probably not for you’. Even though I teach guitar part time, and probably play around two hours a night, I still find myself itching to play if I notice a guitar at a friends house, in a bar or on TV.

One of the things I owe my parents a debt of thanks for is not only capitulating to my persistent demands of lessons in 1981, but for not canning them when I went though the inevitable ‘period of disengagement’ a year or so later. I seem to remember my guitar teacher phoning my mother on one occasion to tell her that she was wasting her money. However, a good dose of Fife ‘parental advice’ had the desired effect and I was soon back on those arpeggios. And arpeggios they were, no ‘Rockschool’ for me, and that’s the other thing I’ll thank my parents for, though I doubt the benefits of enrolling me on classical rather than ‘ROCK’ lessons (and it was advertised as ‘ROCK’ if I remember) was apparent at the time. It was probably because there was spaces left with the classical teacher.

I was three years down the line and five classical grades in before I played a ‘chord’, though I understood the theory behind the notes involved and all the places on the fretboard the chord could be fretted. When the inevitable switch to the electric guitar came, it was a bit like the scene from that dodgy film ‘Bedazzled’ when Brendan Fraser’s character announces he can ‘suddenly speak Spanish’ (if you’ve seen it, you’ll know what I mean). At that point, the period of obsession, began. Between the ages of 14-17 I played around three hours a night, though I wasn’t counting. I really wasn’t actually, I failed O’Grade maths. Twice.


No comments yet.

Post a Comment

* Copy this password:

* Type or paste password here:

4,297 Spam Comments Blocked so far by Spam Free Wordpress

Park Music Dunfermline