Three Superb Guitarists

A story about the three musicians who have most influenced me:

Stevie Ray Vaughan

During the years I lived in Christchurch, New Zealand I often went to a club on Madras Street known as the Southern Blues Bar. Although I had doubtless heard Stevie Ray Vaughan and Double Trouble on the radio many times before 1996 I became more aware of his work at the Southern Blues Bar. The house band there were incredibly talented musicians in their own right and the lead singer wore an SRV strap on his guitar. The band did a number of good SRV covers during their sets as well.

Vaughan played a style of music best described as Texas Blues. Comprising a fusion of blues and hard rock underscored with his unique swing and groove Vaughan has a unique tone and deeply emotive style that has grown and grown on me over the last 16 years. A lifetime of practice would still leave me well short of this man's gifted musical style and complete dominance of the fretboard. Stevie has an uncanny knack of producing loud, clean, rolling riffs and it seems he can create feeling and tone from a series of notes that would sound discordant at anybody else's hands.

I particularly identify with Stevie as several years before his tragic death in a helicopter crash he had faced down and beaten problems with alcohol and cocaine abuse. After intense rehabilitation he emerged a whole and deeply spiritual ascetic man. He is well deserving of his real and everlasting sobriety and I pray that he is resting in peace.   

Stephen Ray "Stevie" Vaughan (October 3, 1954 – August 27, 1990) was an American guitarist,vocalist, songwriter, and a notable recording artist. Often referred to by his initials, SRV, he is best known as the leader of the blues rock band Double Trouble, with whom he recorded four studio albums. Influenced by guitarists of various genres, Vaughan emphasized intensity and emotion in his guitar playing, and favored vintage guitars and amplifiers. He became one of the leading blues rock musicians, encompassing multiple styles, including jazz and ballads.

Born and raised in Dallas as the younger brother of Jimmie Vaughan, he moved to Austin at the age of 17, and formed the band, Triple Threat Revue, that evolved into a band called Double Trouble, in 1978. Accompanied by drummer Chris Layton, bassist Tommy Shannon, and later, keyboardistReese Wynans, Vaughan became an important figure in Texas blues, a loud, swing-driven fusion ofblues and rock. Despite the breakthrough success of Double Trouble's debut Epic album, Texas Flood (1983), Vaughn entered a period of alcohol and drug addiction. In 1986, he successfully completed rehabilitation and released the album In Step in (1989). On August 27, 1990, while departing a concert venue by helicopter in East Troy, Wisconsin, Vaughan was killed when the helicopter crashed into the side of a ski hill. His death triggered a global outpouring of grief, and as many as 3,000 people reportedly attended his public memorial service in Dallas.

Vaughan was highly rated and is considered to be one of the greatest guitarists of all time. He has received critical recognition for his guitar playing, ranked at #7 on Rolling Stone's list of "100 Greatest Guitarists" in 2003. He ranked #3 on Classic Rock magazine's list of "100 Wildest Guitar Heroes" in 2007. Vaughan won six Grammy Awards, including Best Contemporary Blues Performance for In Step. Vaughan was posthumously inducted into the Blues Hall of Fame in 2000 and won five W.C. Handy Awards. As of 2012, Vaughan has sold over 11.5 million albums with Double Trouble.

David Gilmour

The first two albums I ever bought were AC/DC, Back in Black and Pink Floyd, Dark Side of the Moon. Gilmour soars on DSOM and my appreciation for his style simply grew the more I heard. I have collected all the Pink Floyd albums over the years and I have some of his solo works as well.

David is the master of understated completeness, with barely a handful of notes he phrases and soars, taking me on a journey of the mind with his music.

David Jon Gilmour,^[1] CBE, D.M. (born 6 March 1946) is an English rock musician and multi-instrumentalist who is best known as the guitarist, one of the lead singers and main songwriters in the progressive rock band Pink Floyd. It is estimated that as of 2011, the group has sold over 230 million albums worldwide, including 74.5 million units sold in the United States.^[2]

In addition to his work with Pink Floyd, Gilmour has worked as a producer for a variety of artists, and has enjoyed a successful career as a solo artist. Gilmour has been actively involved with many charities over the course of his career.

In 2003, he was appointed CBE for his charity work and was awarded with the Outstanding Contribution title at the 2008 Q Awards.^[3] In 2011, Rolling Stone Magazine ranked him No. 14 in their list of the greatest guitarists of all time.

Tommy Emmanuel

I first saw Tommy Emmanuel along with his brother Phil performing live in Sydney in 1986. Tommy is probably the best fingerpicker in the world today. He takes guitar music beyond impossible to the sublime.

His rendition of "Classical Gas" has to be seen to be believed and I also really like his version of Guitar Boogie.

William Thomas "Tommy" Emmanuel AM (born 31 May 1955) is an Australian guitarist and occasional singer, best known for his complex fingerstyle technique, energetic performances and the use of percussive effects on the guitar. In the May 2008 and 2010 issues of Guitar PlayerMagazine, he was named as "Best Acoustic Guitarist" in their readers' poll.^[1] In June 2010 Emmanuel was appointed a Member of the Order of Australia (AM)

Stevie Ray Vaughan - Pride and Joy

David Gilmour - Marooned

Tommy Emmanuel - Classical Gas

A Story About Boots

The Old Boots, the New Boots and Boot Poems

These are my old boots, they're retired now. They hang by their laces from the back porch light switch. Spiders live in them. I keep useful things in them. My long pruning shears, some light machine oil, some insect repellent.

These boots are the boots I explored the New Zealand South Island high country in. These are the boots I wore when the young bloke and I climbed Mount Stavely. They have seen the summit of the Torlesse Range, Mount Thomas and others whose names I no longer remember or never knew.

These boots are made of high tech gore tex and heavy suede leather with wool felt and dacron liners. The soles were some high tech modern composite poly material and the bootmakers in Christchurch couldn't resole them for me when they wore down which is a shame. 

They have trodden snow, ice, scree slopes and greywhackle boulders. They have waded in a hundred different back country streams and a fair share of the mighty braided rivers on the East Coast of the South Island. They tramped most of Banks Peninsula in summer and winter. They squelched through ice and mud over on the West Coast where it rains and snows most of the time and sunshine is rare in the temperate rainforests.

They were good boots, the tread is all worn out, and the right boot is missing half it's sole now and there is a hole there to let the water out when I went fishing.

These are my new boots. They're made for the outback. Calf high heavy leather to reduce the chance of  snakes getting hold of me. A raised instep and good solid heels to give me a firm foothold in the stirrups.

Good boots for putting my feet up in. New enough and dressy enough to wear out to see a band play.

Good guitar playing boots. Comfortable enough to wear all day long in summer out in the scrub. Preferred attire for rodeo's and campsites. Fishing sitting in a folding chair in the shade of an old man red gum on the banks of the Darling will work in these boots. 

I got them on sale at Outback Whips and Leather here in Broken Hill, I've been wanting boots like these for the last two or three years but I didn't mind waiting till I could afford them. I hope when they wear out I can tell a good story or two about them.

Boots in Poetry:

The Boss's Boots

The Shearers squint along the pens, they squint along the ‘shoots;’
The shearers squint along the board to catch the Boss’s boots;
They have no time to straighten up, they have no time to stare,
But when the Boss is looking on, they like to be aware.
The ‘rouser’ has no soul to save. Condemn the rouseabout!
And sling ’em in, and rip ’em through, and get the bell-sheep out ;
And skim it by the tips at times, or take it with the roots—
But ‘pink’ ’em nice and pretty when you see the Boss’s boots.

The shearing super sprained his foot, as bosses sometimes do—
And wore, until the shed cut out, one ‘side-spring’ and one shoe;
And though he changed his pants at times—some worn-out and some neat—
No ‘tiger’ there could possibly mistake the Boss’s feet.

The Boss affected larger boots than many Western men,
And Jim the Ringer swore the shoe was half as big again;
And tigers might have heard the boss ere any harm was done—
For when he passed it was a sort of dot and carry one.

But now there comes a picker-up who sprained his ankle, too,
And limping round the shed he found the Boss’s cast-off shoe.
He went to work, all legs and arms, as green-hand rousers will,
And never dreamed of Boss’s boots—much less of Bogan Bill.

Ye sons of sin that tramp and shear in hot and dusty scrubs,
Just keep away from ‘headin’ ’em,’ and keep away from pubs,
And keep away from handicaps—for so your sugar scoots—
And you may own a station yet and wear the Boss’s boots.

And Bogan by his mate was heard to mutter through his hair:
‘The Boss has got a rat to-day: he’s buckin’ everywhere—
‘He’s trainin’ for a bike, I think, the way he comes an’ scoots,
‘He’s like a bloomin’ cat on mud the way he shifts his boots.’

Now Bogan Bill was shearing rough and chanced to cut a teat ;
He stuck his leg in front at once, and slewed the ewe a bit;
He hurried up to get her through, when, close beside his shoot,
He saw a large and ancient shoe, in mateship with a boot.

He thought that he’d be fined all right—he couldn’t turn the ‘yoe;’
The more he wished the boss away, the more he wouldn’t go;
And Bogan swore amenfully—beneath his breath he swore—
And he was never known to ‘pink’ so prettily before.

And Bogan through his bristling scalp in his mind’s eye could trace,
The cold, sarcastic smile that lurked about the Boss’s face;
He cursed him with a silent curse in language known to few,
He cursed him from his boot right up, and then down to his shoe.

But while he shore so mighty clean, and while he screened the teat,
He fancied there was something wrong about the Boss’s feet:
The boot grew unfamiliar, and the odd shoe seemed awry,
And slowly up the trouser went the tail of Bogan’s eye,

Then swiftly to the features from a plaited green-hide belt—
You’d have to ring a shed or two to feel as Bogan felt—
For ’twas his green-hand picker-up (who wore a vacant look),
And Bogan saw the Boss outside consulting with his cook.

And Bogan Bill was hurt and mad to see that rouseabout
And Bogan laid his ‘Wolseley’ down and knocked that rouser out;
He knocked him right across the board, he tumbled through the shoot—
‘I’ll learn the fool,’ said Bogan Bill, ‘to flash the Boss’s boot!’

The rouser squints along the pens, he squints along the shoots,
And gives his men the office when they miss the Boss’s boots.
They have no time to straighten up, they’re too well-bred to stare,
But when the Boss is looking on they like to be aware.

The rouser has no soul to lose—it’s blarst the rouseabout!
And rip ’em through and yell for ‘tar’ and get the bell-sheep out,
And take it with the scum at times or take it with the roots,—
But ‘pink’ ’em nice and pretty when you see the Boss’s boots. 

Henry Lawson


Antique Boots
By Clark CrouchIt was just some cowboy boots,
not much as antiques go,
but they was right there on sale
at the mall's antique show.

They was badly scarred and worn...
the price was very low...
and they was toward the back
sorta hidden, you know.
It made you sorta wonder
just where they'd been and all...
just where they'd trod and wandered
that brought them to that stall.

If only them boots could talk
about life on the range
it'd be fascinating
and maybe somewhat strange.

But answers are locked away
we'll never hear the tale
of how them boots came to be
there in an antique sale.

Anyhow, I bought them boots
and took them home with me
as a tribute to the days
of when the west was free.

They now sit upon the hearth
on permanent display
given a place of honor
and pondered on each day.
Clark Crouch © All rights reserved.

The River is High and the Bush is Alive

Nature is running hot way out west at the moment

My work takes me out to some fairly remote places. Recently I spent some time down on the floodzone of the Darling River around Tandou Farm. The area was desolate and barren just two years ago and the transformation is incredible. Two good seasons of rain in the Darling River catchment, particularly in Queensland and North Western NSW has bought about an awesome revitalization on the land.

The back country is all underwater and flooded and teeming with fish, shrimps and yabbies. Sadly the carp population has exploded.

The carp are getting obscenely large too, this one went 74cm. The good news is because of the profusion of food in the river and lakes the native fish are growing well too and specimens caught over Easter were large and fat in prime condition.

There are birds everywhere, Magpies, Cockatoos and Kookaburras, lots of water birds and many species I don't even recognize.

Creeks that have been dry for a decade are being filled by floodwaters from the river all over the catchment and in some areas vast tracts of land have become completely inaccessible either by being flooded or cut off by floodwaters.

Countless roads and tracks throughout the catchment have become impassable and many dusty roads and corrugated tracks I've used in the past to get around are completely underwater.

The bush is alive with Kangaroos, Emus, Rabbits, Foxes, Feral Goats, Snakes, Lizards, and Insects. It's an amazing time to see the Darling River and the Menindee Lakes right now and no doubt soon enough nature will cycle again as she does and we'll see another drought. Until then I'll be making the most of the incredible miracle that water brings to the outback!