Bullet Sorts Out His Priorities

The Bullet continues to morph into Young Rock-Monster. He’s now The-Artist-Formerly-Known-As-Bullet.

He’s been playing electric for about a year, and he’s getting good at it, but I’m up to my neck in Deep Purple riffs and I wish he’d move on to playing the blues or some kind of sinewy Ry Cooder bottleneck. The spare room is full of amps and drums and guitars, and sometimes, when all the band get together and start practising, I have no option but to head for the pub. As one does.

Anyway, he did fairly well in his summer exams and he collected a good amount of cash from various supporters, well-wishers, relatives and general fools, all with a view to buying a better guitar. That’s how serious he is about his music these days.

There’s nothing wrong with the Cort he already has. In fact it’s a fine instrument for a teenage rock-monster, but he wanted something more.

Now, I’m no expert on these things. Let me rephrase that: I know absolutely nothing about such things, but I did my best to help him. I bumped into Ed the God at the last Wrinklies gig in Dublin. Ed used to play with the Gun-dogs back in the old Man o’ War bikefest days, and there’s no meaner axeman.

Dean, he said. (Ed is a man of few words.)


Dean. Great guitar. I’ll keep an eye out.

Excellent, I told him.

I said it to TAFKAB when I got home.

Jackson, he said.


Jackson. Great guitar.

Right, I said.

He found a music shop in New York, picked out the model he wanted, found someone who was going to New York and arranged everything. That was a couple of weeks ago.

I said it to him the other day. Well, what about the guitar? Did it arrive yet?

No. I didn’t buy the Jackson.

You didn’t?


Well, what’s the plan?

Well, he said, I was thinking. If I buy the Jackson, I’ll have two guitars, and the one I already have is pretty good.


So now, I still have a pretty good guitar but I have an X-Box as well!

And so he has. He’s behind me as I speak, playing Bio-Shock. I can hear the wet crunching as he beats the shit out of a mutant with a wrench.

Now he’s replacing his hand with a drill. Bless him.