Up until a few weeks ago, I wan't playing more than an hour or so a week. Then I got a beat-up 1966 Yamaha SG-2 that looks like my first real guitar probably would if I hadn't crudely modified it and traded it away back in '73 or '74. It's amazing how quickly I adapted to the longer scale (a full 26"). It felt like coming home after a long absence. I've been playing humbucker axes ever since that first SG-2, and now I'm re-discovering the joys of a righteous pair of single-coil pups. I'm back to playing a couple of hours a day. I stopped in at Guitarworks on the way home from work today and looked at some of the Strats. They seem so crude and unrefined compared to the old Yamaha SG-2. Now I understand why I was so willing to sell my '62 re-issue Strat when I needed rent money. The SG-2 may be a 'cover' of a Jazzmaster, but it's like Hendix's version of "All Along The Watchtower" compared to the original.

And I just got a couple of Savoy Brown double CD's of the music that formed my early playing style as much as the early Grand Funk Railroad material. Major blast from the past - cobwebs are being shredded and the rust is getting buffed away.


Musicians don't play because we can - we play because we need to.