Thursday, January 20, 2011
It never occurred to me that old drums, like old guitars could be really valuable. Obvious I suppose, anything old eventually takes on some extra value…but drums kits get battered and guitars and piano just usually get played so that makes no sense. Keith Moon’s kit (or one of them that survived) is only valued at half a million dollars. I’ve never really trashed a guitar. or played one to the limit or attacked it like a drum kit, I’ve always been respectful and restrained, most times, not a naturally exuberant player. I wish I was. There’s a mental block thing that takes over that slows down thinking, playing and finding those elusive notes. They fail to connect, run together and then stray into the unfamiliar, beautiful territory that is a unique place of creation. The unique place of creation, another place I cannot find. Guarded and protected by an angel with a flashing fiery sword and an expensive guitar. In the background a sullen looking pasty faced angel taps on an old drum kit.
I don’t care about the news today. About bankers bonuses, excessive profits, huge losses, floods and disasters, what politicians are going to say in their leaked speeches, the opinions of other reporters, finance and foreign correspondents, human interest stories and what the weather was like today in the Channel Islands, Wales and the Home Counties, I’m not bothered about the price of petrol either. Sadly there is less and less on the shining flat box that we still describe as TV that engages me. Somewhere in the remote, dark blue corners there are programmes that make me laugh. Programmes hidden in the deep pools. I shall seek them out. TV needs to make people laugh more, they could show some reruns of Lady Warsi‘s speeches.
World's most expensive guitar.