I have another confession to make
I play guitar. I’ve played guitar now for around half my life and it’s something that I don’t think I could ever do without. I love absolutely everything about guitars – the amazing craftsmanship that goes into them, the beauty of how they look. I love the smell of a good guitar, the feel of the strings under my fingers, and the sheer escapism I feel when I’m able to finally play that song I’ve been trying to conquer for so long.
Guitars come in all shapes and sizes, and the ‘culture’ that surrounds them itself is amazing. However, just the other day I discovered that 90% of people who start learning guitar quit, most of them within the first year*, and I felt an immense desire to spread the gospel of guitar in my own corner of the internet.
How did I get hooked?
One of my first memories as a child is of my father playing his black Fender acoustic in our front room. Sat down on a ragged seat, he played Beatles songs one after another – not much of a singer, leaving it up to six-year-old me to hum nonsensically. Seeing your dad play guitar leaves a lasting impression I guess. I knew even at 6 that ‘Cool’ people played guitars.
All the cool kids on the council estate had theirs – and my sisters used to fawn over the older ‘bad boy’ types who would come to our house and badly play any Metallica song they could remember. I used to think they were all the next big thing, and I’m sure my sisters had to shoo me away from their friends as I asked, “What’s that pedal do? What brand is that?” etc. etc.
My first guitar was a very pre-owned and battered cheap fire-rocket red Squier imitation from China. I didn’t know that guitars needed tuning. I had no idea what a chord was. I played horribly and didn’t have the brains nor the persistence to carry on – I had a belief that guitar was something you just picked up and knew, or you didn’t. I didn’t.
The path to glory
At 16 years old and sat listening to Sufjan Stevens one day, I had a revelation: “I’d love to play something as beautiful as that,” and with my next paycheck I went down to the music shop and got my hands on my first guitar. An off-hand, discounted acoustic – with some knots in the front wood (that only made me more drawn to its beauty).
I tried for two or three days, trying to get the basics down – but it wouldn’t go in my head. Out of pure frustration I searched locally for a guitar tutor, someone to help me get the ball rolling. I found one in Blackpool and I have distinct memories of carrying this guitar case onto a train, getting off and walking 30 minutes in the rain to this guy’s house.
We spent the hour discussing tuning, how the fretboard works, what a plectrum is and how to use it, but the most important thing he taught me was how to make three basic chords: C, D, G. The amazing knowledge that you could put your fingers in pre-destined positions and make these amazing sounds made something click in my head – and from that point on, I became an obsessive guitar learner, never going back for another lesson, determined to do it my way.
How important can a guitar be?
I think the reason I wanted to write this in the first place was a genuine passion for how good a hobby like the guitar can be for your mental health. On those bad days, I can strum a little Neil Young, sing along, and the world doesn’t seem so bad. In those lonely hours I can play along to a Sun Kil Moon track or two and feel a part of something bigger.
It also helps with the coding side of things. When I’m stuck trying to figure something out, I’ll often reach for my guitar on a lunch break and doodle for a little bit. I find more times than not that my brain figures out a solution whilst I figure out the song.
Any instrument you pick up and learn to play is a constant strive to improve and learn new things – I like to think that picking up guitar has allowed me to see that everything you do is progress. Each new chord learned, each new song you pick up – it’s all part of a greater goal of being a better player. That skill transfers into all areas of life – but it is nice to remind myself when faced with difficulty, about the little boy who couldn’t play a chord and where he is now.
The many guitars I’ve had…
Here’s an incomplete list of some of the guitars I’ve owned:
- My first red electric is still at my mother’s house, hidden somewhere!
- My first acoustic, I gifted to my dear friend Federico as he needed one. I know it’s in good hands and taken care of.
- I owned an Epiphone SG, cherry red. But sold it.
- While backpacking Europe, I bought another cheap acoustic and gifted it to a man I met in Ukraine, to keep him company on his own travels.
- In Portland, America, I bought a Fender acoustic off a local. I took that guitar around the rest of those states and got it signed by friends and music heroes alike. I lost it moving during COVID.
- I bought an Epiphone ES-335 – played it for a while and ended up gifting it to the son of a friend.
- I bought my dream guitar (and daily rider) a Martin D-20M a few years back. I play it daily, it’s perfect.
- When my father passed, I inherited his beautiful Gibson Les Paul. It rarely gets played, to be truthful.
- Recently I acquired my Jose Ramirez 3E (2000), and whilst I am the world’s worst classical guitar player, it serves its role on those more relaxed sessions.
*1 source