An artist has their paintbrush and canvas, an architect has their drafting table and pencil, a carpenter has a hammer and nails, and musicians they have their instruments. They come and go. Often times we acquire far more than we actually need, sell off one to pay for another, spiral into regret of losing “the one” later on, or move on and build upwards from the entry level kit. For me, personally, I always look back to that first instrument that gave me a voice I didn’t realize I had.
I have always been (at least my mom would tell me) a hard worker. I never really applied myself in school, but did well all through high school regardless…college may have been a different story. But when it came to work, a job, doing things be it building on job sites with uncles growing up or other things, I always busted my ass. I got a job washing dishes when I was 13 at a country club in my town and quickly rose up the ladder from dish-dog to salad station, fry guy, and finally sous chef. Before that I had a paper route and caddied at that same country club. The idea here being that I was the help at that club and not a member. I remember being about 12 years old and really into Nirvana, Tom Petty, Smashing Pumpkins, and thinking if only I could get a guitar I could do what they all were doing on MTV. A couple of my pals and I would sit in our bedrooms, listening to tapes of our favorite artists for hours on end, drumming on the side table and ripping air guitar through the room. One day my best pal asked his parents for an instrument and they obliged. So, thinking that same sentiment may lay with my own parents, I did the same to which they said “earn some money and get one”. What may have seemed harsh to 12 year old me, I now am incredibly grateful for as my parents engrained the notion of hard work deep into my thick skull that had riffs and lyrics from my favorite grunge and punk bands rummaging through it all day long. 18 years later I am still playing and my old pal hung up his axe after a couple months of lessons.
(me with my first ‘band’ my buddies Mikey and Libbs)
I remember the day I saw it. I asked my mom to drive me to the local music shop (Music Unlimited in Hanover…RIP) and wandered underneath the guitars hanging on the wall. Flamebursts, Les Pauls, ES-335s, a couple in cases with price tags in the thousands and a host of Stratocaster style guitars sitting out on the floor. Traditional sunburst, blue, pink, and in the back of the pack was a forest green strat. Part of a package with a 10 watt amp, a guitar cable, strap and gig bag. I picked it up, played the only couple of notes I had garnered from sitting outside my aforementioned pals bedroom as he had guitar practice and listening in, and from that moment on was hooked. I butchered the shit out of ‘Back in Black’ by AC/DC and unfolded the hundred and twenty bucks that was mostly in 1s and 5s onto the counter top at the register and went home with that guitar that day. My parent’s basement turned into my laboratory for music and soon I had a friend who played drums and another who played guitar. Countless hours were spent in the basement at my buddy’s place and mine, butchering the shit out of songs and extended jams on 3 three chords, but we were in heaven.
Eventually I bought on those pickguards with Stevie Ray’s initials etched into them and put it on, installed new pick ups (though with my playing at the time, Texas Specials made no difference, I wasn’t all that good) and played the shit out of that thing. I think that one day, for practice in a band I was in in high school for a very brief period, I left that green Stratocaster at the drummers place and never saw it again. It was summer between college and high school and we had a few gigs at the local bandstand, a few friends grad parties, that kind of stuff. I went off to school and never saw that strat again. For whatever reason I have been thinking about Stratocasters a lot. I have a tele that I dig alright, but man that first strat was the instrument that gave me a voice. It was an extension of me. I spent more time with that guitar than my lacrosse equipment, my friends, or my high school girlfriend for that matter. That guitar was (and will be) a piece of my music and art for as long as I live.
What was your first instrument?