OLD GUITARS – some extraordinary talent on display

Back around 1989 I started working on a song about the disillusionment I felt with the (then) current music scene and the comparison to the 60s era of rock’n’roll when it was a phenomenon rather than an industry, a shooting star not expected to last.  The song I titled Old Guitars but while I had some strong verses with powerful imagery (“we’re the smile on Maggie Mae the chalk marks where John Lennon lay”)   I did not have a chorus.  Enter Greg Macainsh who came up with one.  Martin Cilia and I demoed the song on his old 4-track and Steve Brookes sang a lovely version.  A few years ago I finally put the song into the live set, even though I figured I would never be able to sing it as good as real singers.  We began performing it and then recorded the basics of it in The King and Me sessions (2015). Last year  (2016) we recorded WHEN and finally finished it by calling upon the skills of three brilliant guitarists: Martin himself, the amazing Kevin Borich and the brilliant David Briggs.  It gives me a real thrill to hear those guitars sing, and hopefully it will do the same for you “When” you get the album.  The song, which perfectly fitted the thematic of the album, called for us to be transported back to a different time when music brought goosebumps on your skin. It worked for me.

OLD GUITARS

(Warner-Macainsh)

No-one cares anymore anymore

We’re just a bunch of ageing whores

Ply our trade across the board

With chords and words you’ve heard scores of time before

We’re the t-shirt nouveau riche

Searching for our pride and niche

We’re an old guitar

 

Was a time I recall in local halls

When young men touched some magic space

Small amp and a cheap guitar made us tingle

Mingling in the atmosphere

We’re the smile on Maggie Mae

The chalk marks where John Lennon lay

We’re an old guitar.

 

Old guitars never lose their heart

They lose their way they fall apart

But nothing else reaches the stars

Like the sound of old guitars.

 

No ideas anymore anymore

Just scissors snipping out before

Pasting history into platinum numbing pastry, so tasty for the plebians.

 

Background for the video

Playground for old Romeos

Time somebody let you know

To stop believing in me

Now we’re the t-shirt nouveau riche

Searching for our pride and niche

We’re an old guitar.

 

Old guitars never lose their heart

They lose their way they fall apart

But nothing else reaches the stars

Like the sound of old guitars.

We’re no vibrant youthful force

Marriage over sweet divorce

From our old guitars.

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