I play guitar, I don’t know if anyone has noticed.

I’m a singer officially, and I picked up some guitar to help with my songwriting, but I’ve since decided I like guitar much more than singing and I’m trying my best to improve.

I’m not very good, I’m not bad, but I seem to be hopelessly trapped in the limbo between vocalist and guitarist. You know that grey area that Tracy Chapman calls home? There.

I’m definitely better than I was 6 months ago. I know because I now have a favourite guitarist (Freddie King) and I know the names of all the notes on the fretboard. #winning.

It’s still frustrating though. I think learning an instrument must be one of the most privately humiliating experiences there are. We aren’t often exposed to beginners, we hear people once they’ve mastered their instrument. The hours they spend ironically crying whilst stumbling through While My Guitar Gently Weeps are reserved for their ears only, and the occasional neighbour living on the other side of their cardboard walls. I’m talking hypothetically.

Anyway, I’ve resolved to follow in the footsteps of Mr Robert Johnson. For those of you who aren’t familiar with him, he’s the king of Delta Blues. Myth has it that he was pretty mince, but he disappeared for a few months and when he came back he was one of the best guitarists who’s ever lived. It’s plausible he spent those months practising, but it’s far more exciting to invest wholly in the myth that he sold his soul to the devil for his mind numbing guitar abilities.

I reckon at this point my soul is probably worth about $50,000 (I had to knock some money off for misdemeanours). So, assuming that a one on one guitar lesson would cost around $20 per hour. That’s 2500 hours of one on one guitar lessons. Sounds perfect. I think tonight I’ll put my acoustic guitar in open D, march myself to the nearest cross roads, and wait it out for old lucifer to come and make me an offer I can’t refuse.

See you tomorrow when I’m famous bitches!


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