Last night I dreamt of Hank Marvin live on stage.
Don't ask if he was playing solo or with The Shadows. Don't ask what guitar or strings or shirt he brought. I remember Hank coming to the wicked solo in The Savage and, instead of breaking into his mighty surf-styled runs, changing moods, down shifting and gently picking... Blue Moon, the Elvis version (after all it was the King's birthday yesterday).
"This won't last too long," I thought, fingering my Stratocaster (erm, security blanket?) I'd brought to the foot of the stage. For some reason, I glanced to my right and noticed a reflection, a doppelganger: another stage hugger, carrying his guitar, too. Did he notice me? I hope not.
Now Hank decided to play with feedback, shoving his guitar toward his amp, then back, conjuring a dreamy hum and a nice segue from Blue Moon I thought. But if he ever made it back to The Savage I can't say; my 7 a.m. alarm stopped the show.
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Posted by: discount cigarettes | 10 January 2012 at 03:32 AM