Nels Cline

As the Infant Jesus described it when sending me the link, this piece is about 17 minutes long, very ambient. It’s all done live, he tells me, using old and new guitar technology. And if there’s anyone who understands guitar technology, it has to be the Infant Jesus. He even has a little light thing that he shines at his guitar and makes it play without anyone bothering to touch it. Some day, I hope to understand how that little light thing works.

Relax and enjoy Nels Cline.

Nels Cline + Devin Sarno – the wulf from ZF FILMS on Vimeo.

(With thanks to the Infant Jesus).


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.


Limerick Music Venues

Limerick Acoustic Guitar Festival

I wandered towards Bombay Mick’s this evening and bumped into Mr Darwin, a frequent contributor to this organ.

Mr Darwin engages, among other things, inter alia, and so forth, in playing the jazz guitar, and he’s involved in the Limerick Acoustic Guitar Festival, taking place for the next while or so. Check it out if you happen to be in the region.

Personally, I’m a bit baffled by playing of this complexity and erudition, but Mr Darwin has promised to explain as he goes along. I have promised in return, not to be too drunk when I turn up, and furthermore to try and remain relatively sober during the gig. I have also promised, though it won’t be easy, to refrain from my usual practice of hurling obscene comments at the performers.

This isn’t going to be easy.

God, at my age, you’d think they’d cut me a bit of slack, wouldn’t you?

kick it on


The Bullet Goes Electric

The Bullet got an electric guitar , which should be interesting, especially for the neighbours. It was for his birthday, and we went into town today to collect it. It was cool. I wish I could be fourteen again and live in a world where guys like the Bullet get to stroll through town with a cool axe slung over their shoulder. I bumped into the Infant Jesus on Saturday, and anybody who knows what I’m talking about will know that the Infant Jesus is one motherfucker of an electric guitar player. In fact I was trying to explain this to Bullet.

Bullet, I said, the Infant Jesus has now become so good that he hardly plays any notes at all. Soon, he’ll be so good he’ll play nothing. He’ll just stand there. If I tried that, they’d boo me off the stage, and they’d be right. Well, to be truthful, if I tried to stand up on stage at all they’d kill me, but let’s not split hairs here, ok?

Bullet isn’t interested in this line of discussion. Bullet wants to be able to play 40,000 notes per second, and that’s fine too. That’s what being fourteen is about. Anyhow, as I said, I bumped into the Infant Jesus, and I told him that Bullet was getting an electric guitar. But he isn’t able to play, I said. The Infant Jesus is a wise man. That will come later, he said. Right now, all he needs to learn is how to carry it with authority, and what T-shirts to wear.

So far we’ve had Smoke on the Water about three hundred times and Seven Nation Army another two hundred or so.

That’s fine by me.