Gibson says its SG Gothic Morte is “a radical reincarnation of a guitar that was born to be wild.” Ready for
an exorcism? Photo courtesy of Gibson Guitars
I witnessed an exorcism last
night. The exorcism was
conducted by one very beat-up
Gibson SG. The person whose
demons were exorcised was a
young woman in the front row
of a Greenhornes show. The
only thing missing was green
projectile vomit.
But before I go into that
more, I want to discuss a
couple of deep questions. And
I want to go beyond “Can a
guitar have a soul?” I’ll start
with a simple question: Is
the human consciousness the
result of a higher power? Well,
if you’re spiritual, or believe in
God, ghosts, or Ouija boards,
or if you feel uneasy if a black
cat runs in front of your
car, or have any other number
of superstitions or spiritual
beliefs, you should’ve answered
“yes.” If we are truly connected
to something—something
we just can’t comprehend or
agree on—we can at least agree
on some simple truths. There
is joy and sadness, darkness
and light, wickedness and
righteousness, good and evil.
What does this have to
do with the guitar? Well, I’m
wondering where the guitar
came from. What part of the
human consciousness created
this instrument, this wizard’s
wand, this hypnotic tool? And,
more importantly, why? Stay
with me here.
Albert Einstein once wrote
of “spooky action at a distance”—things we just don’t
understand. And I think most
of us believe in some spooky
stuff we don’t understand.
Now back to the exorcism/
rock show. As I observed the
crowd, I saw plenty of alcohol,
some drugs, and women and
men prowling for deviant-behaving
partners. Through the
smoke-filled room, I could see
small groups huddled in black
leather jackets giving their
attention to the stage as the
electric guitar gave it’s sermon.
This was no church. This was
no Mormon youth convention.
I thought about a book
I’ve just read,
The Lennon
Prophecies. It’s a well-written
book that makes the case that
John Lennon may have sold
his soul to the devil to become
the biggest rock star in the
world. I know, what a bunch
of crap, right?
But after reading
The
Lennon Prophecies, I’m kind
of freaked out. In the author’s
view, Lennon commits the
ultimate act of blasphemy
against the Church (one of the
requirements from the story of
Faust)—he turns a generation
away from it:
Christianity will go. It
will vanish and shrink. I
needn’t argue with that; I’m
right and I will be proved
right. We’re more popular
than Jesus now. —John
Lennon March 4, 1964.
Some believe you can’t
choose to go down to the
crossroads—you don’t choose
to sell your soul. Something
chooses you and you allow
it. The book contends that
Lennon understood this and
started seeking help from
Christian leaders before his
death—a death he predicted.
I began to think about the
guitar and its role in all this.
Is it a creation of man or is
it a creation of something
else? Is it magic? A product of
the dark side? Or just another
innovative manifestation of
the human consciousness?
Which takes us back to that
nagging question: What is
human consciousness? I’m not
the only one who feels there
might be something spooky
going on here.
One of my favorite poems
was found inscribed into a
17th-century lute:
Was alive in the forest.
I was cut by the cruel axe.
In life, I was silent.
In death,
I sweetly sing.
A few hundred years later,
the Gypsies of Andalucía used
the 6-string as a tool to seduce
their women into trance, eventually
creating the flamenco
dance. In the early 20thcentury,
the guitar became the
soundtrack to the darkness of
poverty, suffering, and heartbreak
in a dark form of the
blues epitomized by the likes
of Howlin’ Wolf ’s lyric, “I
asked for water, she brought
me gasoline.” And, of course,
later in that century, in
Britain’s ghostliest city of
Liverpool, the modern rock
band was conceived.
In the Bible, God cursed
the ground so that men would
have to work hard. It seems to
me this thing called the guitar
might be cursed as well—work
it hard and enjoy the fame,
fortune, wine, and women.
But beware, the devil’s curse
comes with a price. I have no
proof of any of this. That’s the
thing about this kind of stuff—
there’s never any proof, just a
gut feeling. There is never any
proof of religion, just faith.
Practice hard, my friends.
Randy Parsons
builds guitars for Jack
White, Jimmy Page, Joe
Perry, and other adventurous
players using
out-of-the-box materials
like bone, flowers, copper,
and solid ebony.