Usually, musicians start at the bottom and work their way up, but I fear something has gone awry with Phil. Pray allow me to explain, and be sure not to read this in the dark as it is a tale of descent into madness.
Many an age ago, when dinosaurs ruled the earth and Raquel Welch ran around in a fur bikini, Phil was that rarest of rare gems, a world class rhythm guitarist. I've never found another one even close to being on the same planet.
Unlike 100% of other guitarists (and especially me), he was not interested in strutting around at the front of the stage, throwing dumb poses and trying to see how many notes can be stuffed painfully into a solo (older blog readers will know about my problem from bitter experience). Oh, no. Instead he realised the basic truth that eludes the rest of us: that a rhythm guitar player should only be noticed when he's not playing. And when he's not playing the music sounds WRONG.
It was great being on stage with Phil because I could play as many dumb widdly notes as possible and know that behind me the music would sound right.
And then something weird happened: he decided to take up bass.
Bass players are usually frustrated lead guitarists and it is very rare for a guitar player to "go the other way," down into the darkness of the lower registers.
But that's where Phil went and bloody good he was, too. I missed his rhythm playing but he was a great bassist.
This is where it gets creepy …
Drummers - as opposed to musicians - tend to drool a lot and sniff one another's bottoms whenever they meet up. They are not as other folk.
And yes, The Dark Side took my baby brother and made him hit things.
Hokay, I confess, the boy doesn't do things by halves; he's what's known in the trade as "a fucking good drummer," a treasure rarer than rocking-horse shit.
But a drummer?
Drummers are forever cursed by the stigma of Ringo.
In the pit of Musical Hell there is only one circle lower than that haunted by the screaming souls of drummers …
A short while back Phil took that final step and slid down the greasy slope into the last and deepest festering pismire of musical insanity.
He bought a banjo …
He has a book that teaches you how to say "Yee" and "Haw."
He has started creeping round woods and telling people, "You sure got a purrty mouth, city boy."
In short, he's gone Deliverance.
We spent yesterday playing "Duelling Banjos."
If there are any support groups out there, please contact me.
21 comments:
That's my boys!!
It must be your fault, then.
You two are SUCH peas in a pod! Simply oozing with talent and brilliance. Alifan knows this first hand.
Always remember Spiderman's creed: "With great talent comes great responsibility." Use it wisely Crane bros.! :)
Hahahahaha!
Ah, thank you, Shan. I had to laugh out loud when you reminded me that Phil and I spent years unconsciously modelling ourselves on the Crane brothers.
I'm afraid I still do the Niles thing of going "Oooh! Oooh! Oooh!" when the Opera Quiz comes on the radio, and I clean my chair in the coffee shop the same way as he does. Sheesh!
I just got off the phone with Bluegrass Anonymous and they're holding a room for you when you're ready.
Comes with continental breakfast and banjo weening exercises.
Don't say I never got you anything.
Todd
Obviously my dear brothers memory has faded faster than I first thought regarding my old musical "weaknessess".
In my defence, I didn't buy the banjo, someone gave it to me in bits with stuff missing so I re-built it and thought it might be fun to try and get a tune out of it.
It's a cross between a guitar and a drum in my little world.
Hahaha! Thanks so much for the belly laugh! Our good friends have a son who was an amazing guitar prodigy. He took up the drums in high school and became an amazing drummer. Now I am about to wrap up a busted old banjo to let him have a go! I do hope you record some of these deliverance sessions!
Haha! Enjoyed your post. So he slipped down into banjo playing, did he? Is there any musical instrument he won't try??
Strangely, I had a dream 2 nights ago that I went into a room to get a guitar, and a strange man there handed me a banjo and told me to play it instead. (I don't have a banjo). Maybe I was channeling something....
Tood, thank you for telling me about Bluegrass Anonymous. I shall have him comitted there right away.
Phil: if guitars and drums ever mated to produce a banjo it would be a scary world indeed. I must fess up to wishing I still had that old banjo Larky gave me. Lost in the move, unfortunately. Hey ho.
Neetzy: I may well record us one of these days. Be afraid.
Ms.M: I think he can get a tune out of most any instrument he tries. He is one of those people who will try everything - he has spent years in a dubiously admirable attempt to eat every foodstuff on the planet (and some things that only the insane would attempt to put into their mouths).
Your dream is going to haunt me. Frightening stuff! Have you been eating pizza in bed?
Banjos are totally cool - in a nerdy sort of way, but nerds are IN these days.
Vanda, if banjos are cool and nerds are in, I am going to borrow Phil's banjo and go out on the pull.
Wish me luck. I think I'll need it!
Ha! No pizza, but I did have chicken in ginger sauce that evening....
Oooh, yummy!
Hey, banjos are cool. My father used to play one—although he was a southerner who chewed tobacco and spit in a can—and there are some really good banjo players out there. Yay, for your baby brother.
Next up, he should play the juice harp. Or the spoons.
Oh, no! Robyn, please don't encourage him!
I'm putting my vote in for the steel guitar! God Bless'em!
I won't believe any of it until I hear a sound track or two!
Baby brothers are wonderful aren't they?
Prudence: Don't tempt us … Dobros and Nationals don't come cheap and we both want one.
Mme: Baby brothers get more bearable once they're past forty. Mine's okay now.
If I ever get around to remembering to video any of our faffing around I'll be sure to post it here.
I once dated a drummer. He was born to it--tapped on everything. I had tiny bruises on my forearms and there were little dents in the dashboard of my car.
I know what's wrong with 2011. It's missing WTF Monday. No wonder each week has become increasingly more and more bleak!!!!
Where are you, Dive? Have you been kidnapped by banjo players from Georgia??
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