THE DAY THE GUITAR DIED

[DaveKell]

I was thinking about 3 old guitar pickers I know with old guitars that have a ton of player wear. I realized I couldn't ever picture them without the guitar in their hand. I got an idea for this song to portray how they're inextricably linked with their instrument. I got a text a bit ago from a successful Nashville songwriter with the succinct reply "I'm a fan".

THE DAY THE GUITAR DIED

(verse 1)
Lots of guitar pickers never
make it to the top
Like my old friend who
was one the best
He and his old guitar with
a lifetime of wear
Played thousands of songs
more than fifty years
When he came to the end,
his old guitar was silent
I sat in the church, remembering
through my tears

(chorus)
THE MUSIC CRIED... THE
DAY THE GUITAR DIED
IT WAS MORE THAN ONLY
WOOD & STRINGS
IT WAS THE SOUL OF A MAN
WHOSE VOICE NO LONGER RINGS
YEAH, THE MUSIC CRIED
THE DAY THE GUITAR DIED

(verse 2)
People mentioned Nashville
and how he belonged
Those breaks were always
out of his reach
His music lives on with me
and many others
We're first to say his whole
life was a jamboree
There isn't an award for the
lifetime they gave us
I'll never get why that just
wasn't meant to be
(REPEAT CHORUS, tag last two lines)
https://soundcloud.com/user-56655734...he-guitar-died

[DaveKell]

Disclaimer. This has a rough, garage recording and I’m far from a singer!

[DaveKell]

I was taken aback by something I was told at my weekly jam session. There is an 84 year old guy there who plays lead solos on the only electric guitar there. I've become good friends with him over the years. He's usually very enthusiastic about the original songs I show up with. Except for this one! I couldn't help but notice how he completely ignored it. During a break a lady there told me he probably thought I wrote it about him as he has a similar life story of not making it in Nashville but having played clubs for around 50 years. Add to that the song mentions the old guys death.

I started a conversation about the idea for the song after the break. I said I got the idea from a song I recalled from grade school called My Grandfather's Clock. The words go "My grandfather's clock was too large for the shelf so it stood 90 years on the floor. It was taller by half then the old man himself though it weighed not a penny's weight more. It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born. It was always his treasure and pride. But it stopped, short, never to run again when the old man died." I explained that I wanted to write a song about a guitar never making another sound after it's player died. It never occurred to me that older guitar pickers would have an aversion to the lyrics!

[fazool]

1) I think old guitar players shouldn't avoid the lyrics. Some lyrics I like from guitarists openly discussing it are these:

"There's a place.....I believe in. Partly truth, partly fiction. I can say, with conviction.....I'll get there.....I'll get there" David Wicox (the Canadian not the fingerstylist).


"Close to my destination. Tired, frail and aching. Waiting patiently for the sun to set." Kid Rock


2) I think you should change the title - it sounds too much like "The Day The Music Died" which has been used so many times and always credits back to Don Mclean.

[DaveKell]

Originally Posted by fazool

2) I think you should change the title - it sounds too much like "The Day The Music Died" which has been used so many times and always credits back to Don Mclean.

Are you referring to a line in his song I thought was titled American Pie? I don’t recall a McLean song titled The Day The Music Died.

[fazool]

Originally Posted by DaveKell

Are you referring to a line in his song I thought was titled American Pie? I don’t recall a McLean song titled The Day The Music Died.

Yes, the line in his song but it is very iconic and has been used as the titles of articles etc.

I think it's too recognizable.....maybe a subtle change such as "the day the guitar was quiet" or "the day the guitar stopped" or some such.

(I liked it and was just giving constructive suggestions - not a criticism at all.)

[Murphy Slaw]

Dig it!....

[DaveKell]

Originally Posted by fazool

I think it's too recognizable.....maybe a subtle change such as "the day the guitar was quiet" or "the day the guitar stopped" or some such.

Either of those titles obliterates the concept I was going for in the song. That being the intentional obfuscation of who exactly I was referring to as having died, the picker or his guitar. As far as it being too recognizable, it IS a change from your stated concern over it sounding too much like "the day the music died". In this case, it's "cried". A very successful songwriter friend in Nashville told me it's advantageous to write with cliches because of the instant familiarity people might have, he stressed however the importance of finding an original way to word the idea contained in the cliche. I have to respectfully disagree with your assessment as the song as written has received a lot of praise in this form and you are the only one with a concern about the title. I appreciate you weighing in though more than I can state. It's just that what I have right now seems to be working with all the pros who've reviewed it.

[DaveKell]

Originally Posted by Murphy Slaw

Dig it!....

Thank ya very kindly sir.

[Silly Moustache]

In 2005, Nanny Jane and I travelled from San Francisco to Dallas visiting many fine friends that I had made on Townes Van Zandt and Guy Clark lists who invited us to visit and stay a while. We were staying with a Texas singer-songwriter friend living in Santa Fe.
He organised a musical evening inviting some local friends - including the great Jerry Faires. (anyone know (of) him?)

This is one of his fine poems:

I was hanging out at the club one day where I had a gig
changing strings , that sort of thing – just checking out my rig
When this old man came stumbling in, and he sat down at the bar
And I couldn’t help but notice how he looked at my guitar

His clothes were old and ragged – his shoes were all worn through
It looked like even his patched had been patched a time or two
He swayed a bit there on the stool I thought that he might fall
It seemed to me a wonder he could get around at all

Then my eyes fell on his hands like some old ancient vine
Knotted gnarled nicked and scarred but his skin was brown and fine
I thought to make conversation - couldn’t think of what to say
so I Held out my old guitar and I said – old man – you play ?

Well he looked at me real solemn so I ripped off a lick
Thought I’d entertain him and I gave it a fancy trick
He said "well I used to don’t know if I still could
Nowadays I mostly listen – you play that thing real good!"

Well as I proudly smiled to thank him, he pull up a stool
And I thought he’s gonna try it bless his heart the poor old fool
He strapped on my old guitar and he switched on my amp
And he passed me like a race car passing a roadside tramp

The strings were like a lover he hadn’t touched for years
And his music went right through me and filled my eyes with tears
Then he threw his head back and he sung of days gone by
Of folks he knew, of crops he grew and a love that he saw die

He made the past come plumb alive like a glittering parade
That came and lived and disappeared in some bygone evening shade
Then when the strings fell silent & I stood with awe and shame -
He smiled at me with kindness and I said Mister – what’s your name

He said "aw it don’t matter - I’m no-one you might know
I’m just a broken down old guitar man used to play here long ago
Saturday night suppers and juke joints that’s how I made my pay
Now that’s all gone – but yeah - I reckon me - I had my day

Then he pushed his stool back – and slowly stood to go
And he handed me back my old guitar and wished well for my next show
I just watched him leave but I believe I’ll never be the same
Thanks to an old time guitar man – the player without a name

Copyright Jerry Faires.

[Silly Moustache]

Thought I'd add his pic.

[DaveKell]

Originally Posted by Silly Moustache

In 2005, Nanny Jane and I travelled from San Francisco to Dallas visiting many fine friends that I had made on Townes Van Zandt and Guy Clark lists who invited us to visit and stay a while. We were staying with a Texas singer-songwriter friend living in Santa Fe.
He organised a musical evening inviting some local friends - including the great Jerry Faires. (anyone know (of) him?)

This is one of his fine poems:

I was hanging out at the club one day where I had a gig
changing strings , that sort of thing – just checking out my rig
When this old man came stumbling in, and he sat down at the bar
And I couldn’t help but notice how he looked at my guitar

His clothes were old and ragged – his shoes were all worn through
It looked like even his patched had been patched a time or two
He swayed a bit there on the stool I thought that he might fall
It seemed to me a wonder he could get around at all

Then my eyes fell on his hands like some old ancient vine
Knotted gnarled nicked and scarred but his skin was brown and fine
I thought to make conversation - couldn’t think of what to say
so I Held out my old guitar and I said – old man – you play ?

Well he looked at me real solemn so I ripped off a lick
Thought I’d entertain him and I gave it a fancy trick
He said "well I used to don’t know if I still could
Nowadays I mostly listen – you play that thing real good!"

Well as I proudly smiled to thank him, he pull up a stool
And I thought he’s gonna try it bless his heart the poor old fool
He strapped on my old guitar and he switched on my amp
And he passed me like a race car passing a roadside tramp

The strings were like a lover he hadn’t touched for years
And his music went right through me and filled my eyes with tears
Then he threw his head back and he sung of days gone by
Of folks he knew, of crops he grew and a love that he saw die

He made the past come plumb alive like a glittering parade
That came and lived and disappeared in some bygone evening shade
Then when the strings fell silent & I stood with awe and shame -
He smiled at me with kindness and I said Mister – what’s your name

He said "aw it don’t matter - I’m no-one you might know
I’m just a broken down old guitar man used to play here long ago
Saturday night suppers and juke joints that’s how I made my pay
Now that’s all gone – but yeah - I reckon me - I had my day

Then he pushed his stool back – and slowly stood to go
And he handed me back my old guitar and wished well for my next show
I just watched him leave but I believe I’ll never be the same
Thanks to an old time guitar man – the player without a name

Copyright Jerry Faires.

That is awesome! I’m printing it out and retyping it with an appropriate letter style and framing it. Thanks a million.

[MCDEMO1]

Two real fine compositions. Thanks for posting them.

[Glennwillow]

Very nice, Dave!

- Glenn

[DaveKell]

Originally Posted by Glennwillow

Very nice, Dave!

- Glenn

I appreciate it. I checked out your Youtube channel. Bro you have an awesome singing voice! I'd give a fairly expendable body part to sing like that. I've recruited a great singer to record 6 of my originals for a submission demo because no amount of software enhancement makes my voice into anything people wanna hear.