There is something very intimate about the sound if a guitar, as if it connects to us in ways we don’t really understand. It could be because there are only six strings, simplifying and limiting the notes available; perhaps it’s the way the fingernails directly pluck the strings; perhaps it’s the constant battle against the decaying sound of the notes; perhaps it’s the way we hold the instrument while we coax music from it, as if we’re cradalling a lover.
I can’t help thinking that the guitar is a very basic instrument. There are remarkably few moving parts. Although manufacturing may have changed, the end product remains very consistent. It’s still just a sound-box with some strings attached.
I’m sure it’s the simplicity, and it’s long history, that have made a guitar shaped receptor in the soul of so many of us. If we accept many of us are open to the sound of the guitar, it would be a shame to waste the opportunities the sound gives us by playing anything other than the right music.
And there’s the rub: what’s the right music?
My own preference is the old music. Music that is so good it never went away. Let me explain. If you think you like all the pop music from the 80s, for example, watch a repeat of TOTP from that decade. It’s not all great, in fact, a lot of it can be awful when we see what we actually watched rather than just remember. The memory of the terrible stuff fades and we’re left with ‘into the groove’ or ‘when doves cry.’ The same is true of guitar music, the great stuff goes on while the other stuff, gets forgotten.
So now we have a very powerful mix: an instrument that has a direct line to our hearts combined with great music that has been tested over generations. No wonder I love the guitar.