Spirit of Play

The Devil makes work for idle hands. That's what they say. Did you notice I capitalised him? I thought it'd be best not to diss him. I want to keep on his right side. I've been told he's a bad ass mf.

My hands have been pretty idle recently. The piano hasn't been uncovered yet since the house move and my double bass is in our spare room (dumping ground), quite low down on the list of things to unpack. Poor old thing, it's not the way to treat an old lass like her. I'm going to bloody well clean her - I've just decided. Next week sometime.

Anyway, my parents kindly gave me a guitar for Christmas. An attractive little blonde sort. Curves in all the right places - for a guitar I mean. I've been trying to learn a few chords (F, C, D, Am, E, Em - enough to play Everything Flows and the entire U2 back catalogue - Mr Edge I salute you) with the help of my hitherto light under bushel hiding girlfriend. Here are my observations.

a) It's completely counter-intuitive. What's the deal with the intervals between the strings? 4th, 4th, 4th, 3rd, 4th. Totally mental.

b) How are you supposed to practice when the agony sets in after about 30 seconds? The strings really cut into your fingers, the little beggars.

c) C to F is hard because you've got to move 3 fingers! 3 fingers!

d) it is quite satisfying when you get all 6 strings to sound cleanly. It was a thrill both times it happened.

I shall persevere, as it is my ambition to write a classic pop song, or to just plagiarise one that is dead good and not known. Just one, that's all I ask.