I was alone in the studio and thinking about my cousin Monty Smoot who, for all intents and purposes, taught me how to play the guitar. I went on to more formal training later in life. I even spent a couple of years learning classical guitar, but Monty taught me the basics.
When I was in elementary school, Monty was a full time, card carrying, musician. He was in a band that played five nights a week in St. Louis. In those days they were referred to as a “house band” and it was a full time job. He had a beautiful baritone voice, played base in the band, and was more than an adequate guitarist. I thought he was a star and I wanted to be just like him.
When I was in the fifth grade my dad let me take guitar lessons. It was actually an incentive for me to try a little harder in school and the lessons were predicated on my grades. One day Dad told Monty that I wanted to learn to play. That night Monty loaned me a Gibson Dove acoustic guitar. I had it exactly nine weeks. It’s easy to remember because it was the exact amount of time before my first report card and the end of lessons. It would be three years before I got a chance to pick up a guitar again.
My dad bought me a 1974 Horner model HG 06, and like the song says, “I played it until my fingers bled.” It still hangs in my studio.
Anyway, reminiscing can sometimes lead to depression, and it’s the melancholy of looking backward that I have tried to capture in this song.
I recorded it straight on an 8 track digital machine, played all the instruments and mixed it on a computer.
My tears 2012 Copyright Single Rose Studio, LLC
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