We seem powerless to resist the siren call of the bass guitar.
OK, it can't compete with the Hound of the Baskervilles, but there is something vaguely unsettling about the way it follows us.
It shows no respect for either age or gender and it can strike without warning at any time.
The first victim was the elder of my two brothers. He played bass in a group in Worcestershire around the end of the 1960s. As far as I can remember, they stuck together for a couple of years playing functions and some local clubs, although I never saw them play. I do remember the guitar he had though, a rather pleasing Hofner Blonde semi-acoustic.
It was several years after my brother had stopped playing that I fell under the spell. A friend of mine decided that a smart way to supplement our meagre wages would be to form a dance band. As we were living near Torquay at the time, he reckoned it would be a doddle to get some gigs during the tourist season. I had played acoustic guitar in folk clubs for several years, but I'd never considered playing in a band before, so I was quite surprised when he suggested that I join him. I probably could have resisted if he hadn't said the one thing guaranteed to sucker me in.
"You'd look great playing bass", he said, and I fell for it.
At the end of that summer, the band broke up and we went our separate ways. I moved to Cheshire and although I kept the Fender Jazz copy that had served me so well, it was exiled to the loft.
It seemed that I had shaken off the curse.
Then another member of the family was ensnared. This time it was the daughter of my other brother. The curse had somehow skipped a generation, missing him but catching my niece instead.
To make matters worse, at around this time I was lured out of retirement by a work-mate who was learning to play the guitar and needed someone to play with. I retrieved my bass from the loft and discovered how much I'd missed playing it. I began practicing again. I bought a Rickenbacker 4003. I was invited to join a band. We played a few gigs. We split up. I joined another band...
A few of days ago, it was my eldest brother's birthday, so I 'phoned him for a bit of a chat.
It turns out that he's just got hold of another bass guitar and has started playing again.
After all these years of lying dormant, the curse has re-awakened and caught up with him.
He's just turned sixty-nine.
Happy Birthday mate!
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How nice it must be to have something in common with your siblings and other family members. Can't think what I have in common with my brother or sister. Oh I know, my brother, like me has not had any children, and that's where the similarity ends. He lives in India, and smokes like a chimney, and is obsessed with earning loads of money ;o)
ReplyDeleteThis curse can strike out of the blue where there has been no musical influences before... towit my brother now nearly 60 who first picked up a bass guitar when he was 18 and said... 'how hard can it be?'... he now dabbles in a band in Kazakstan where he works... I say dabbles because sometimes he is the lead singer (he's pretty tone deaf by the way) and not the bass player at all! its a skill that will obviously hold you in good stead throughout your life! Well done your family for continuing the curse!!
ReplyDeleteAlso afflicted.... nephew Peter
ReplyDelete