A Ripple In A Pond

A facebook conversation can be quite illuminating
It started with a mention of Grodin guitars
http://www.godinguitars.com/godinxtsap.htm

Kenny Caird, a fine musician and regular FB mate of mine seemingly plays one … and rather beautiful it is too

So, I remarked that I’d been ignoring one of my own prize possessions, a Bond Electragilde guitar

http://www.elderly.com/vintage/items/30U-14509.htm
The Bond was a limited edition and rather unusual guitar in that it features a rather unique “step-neck” (ie. no frets, just a sort of saw-tooth effect) and built in carbon fibre construction with lotsa onboard electronics.
They were built by Andrew Bond (d. 1999) in Muir of Ord, Scotland, in 1984. The company went bankrupt & ceased trading in 1986.
British guitarist Mick Jones ( of The Clash & Big Audio Dynamite)  used a Bond Electraglide. U2’s  The Edge used his extensively on The Joshua Tree, and Will Sergeant of Echo & The Bunnymen, and Dave Stewart of The Eurhythmics were also Electraglide users.
Another FB mate, Alex Frackleton, then remarked:
“I really do not understand this homo-erotic guitar worship you lot do … I mean basically it’s a hammer.”
I had to counter that with:
“In the hands of a fool, a hammer is a tool of brute force and even violence
 In the hands of a man of passion, a hammer creates homes and knocks down prison walls, carves sculptures of the greatest beauty, has the delicacy to crack a walnut… without damaging the sweet fruit, and combined with the cutting edge of a sickle has the power to change the world for the better, for ever
 And if Thor had had a guitar, instead of a hammer, he’d have been a lot more fun”

Then Kenny Caird added this wee gem of a poem, by – Clive James :
A guitar is a thief in the night
That robs you of sleep through the wall
A guitar is a thin box of light
Throwing reflections that rise and fall
It reminds you of Memphis or maybe Majorca
… Big Bill Broonzy or Garcia Lorca
A truck going north or a cab to the Festival Hall
And the man who plays the guitar for life
Tests his thumbs on a slender knife
Forever caresses a frigid wife
His fingers travel on strings and frets
Like a gambler’s moving to cover bets
Remembering what his brain forgets
While his brain remembers the fears and debts
Long fingernails that tap a brittle rhythm on a glass
Around his neck a ribbon with a little silver hook
Like some military order second class
You can read him like an open book
From the hands that spend their lives creating tension
From the wrists that have a lean and hungry
Eyes that have a mean and angry look
A guitar is a thief in the night
That robs you of sleep through the wall
A guitar is a thin box of light
Throwing reflections that rise and fall
A guitar reminds you of death and taxes
Charlie Christian outplaying the saxes
The beginners’ call and the very last call of all
With further annotations from Pete Atkins:
http://www.peteatkin.com/b7a.htm
And, the actual song based on the poem:

And all of that is why I do like Facebook … for all its faults and annoyances, it’s a constant source of new information, entertainment, and the delight of meeting people who share my love of new music, new information, and the sharing of it all

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