Thursday 19 February 2015

Telecaster blues

I'm waiting for the rain to start, man, and I'm staring at my Telecaster - which is leaning against the wall. I can't touch it because ... I have got to write this. (Don't ask me why. We all have our crosses to bear.) So ... I'm just going to stare at my Telecaster and feel blue, all afternoon, if that's what it takes.

Jesus. I can already tell this is going to be a strange post. I don't care though, dear reader(s). I can't write another conceptual. I've fulfilled my quota for this week. (I might cut down to one a week soon. How many do I need, for Christ's sake?!) / I'll do one more finance post tonight. There's something, or someone, or something ... that is bothering me.

Well, well ... / There are a few drops of rain on the window now! / I'm listening to Bob Marley and pretending I'm in St Lucia or somewhere like that. Somewhere in the Caribbean. It doesn't have to be Jamaica, does it? Tobago! / Normally, in a situation like this, a day like today, I would listen to melancholic stuff - maybe Elton John's Song for Guy on repeat ... a-ROUND, and a-ROUND, as it were. (I could put it on later. It's going to be a long afternoon.) / I'm trying to stay positive ... with the Telecaster blues.

[Eric Clapton asked Bob Marley about I Shot The Sheriff. Apparently, some of it was true, but Marley wouldn't say which parts.]

One day, I'll play all day. And the days after that. Forever. In my house in Malibu? Malibu! Yeah, why not?! You only live once. / The blues scale is addictive. (I'm sure I've mentioned it before.) The pentatonic scale? I don't give a shit about it! Too bland, son (daughter). Those blues notes really get in your soul, you dig? No wonder Clapton has been playing the blues for over fifty years.

I have to confess: I had a cheeky half hour at lunchtime. Yeah, running my fingers over the fretboard, the amp buzzing my ears. Oh, plenty of distortion! Pure bliss!

...

Oh God! I've got Elton John on. No guitar. Just depressing piano. This is also one of the songs I was able to play years ago, along with Life on Mars? And that Chopin disco crap!

Dinner? You want to know about my dinner?! All right. Only soup tonight. But luxury soup, expensive soup. The kind you have to keep in the fridge. (Yeah, this is how I live now, in preparation for the big time.) And some bread rolls.