Quotes About Guitar

I play bass. I play a bit of guitar. I've never been to a lesson, so my theory of music is non-existent in any instrument, but we always had guitars around. My dad taught me to play drums for 'Love Actually,' and I still play drums now. But I'm not a 'drummer.' I'm not a 'guitarist.' I'm trying to be a bassist.

I am, by nature, a guitar player... I learned all of these other instruments around that, and around the theory that I built learning the guitar.

The very first concert I ever went to on my own was actually Rory Gallagher. In a one-month period in 1973 or '74, I saw him, Thin Lizzy and the Rolling Stones. I wasn't really a big Rory Gallagher fan, but I thought his guitar playing was fabulous. But Thin Lizzy, they were fabulous.

I stuck with that size because I could bend the strings so well, and somewhere along the line I must have gotten it into my mind that I had small hands, so I was thinking I'd never be able to play a full-scale guitar, but I also felt like I was cheating or cutting corners.

Music's been a huge passion of mine since I was really young. I started playing guitar when I was thirteen.

I first picked up a guitar when I was ten years old; my parents surprised me with it for my tenth birthday. I started taking lessons when I was thirteen, but only for a few months, and then I just kept teaching myself.

I did play a lot of fingerstyle when I first started playing. I could never really find the right combination of flatpick or fingerpick, so playing fingerstyle is really the easiest way - though it's quite strenuous on the fingertips.

That evening was marked by yet another magic moment in Ozzy lore as local Chicago photographer, Paul Natkin, captured the iconic onstage image of Ozzy lifting Randy by his arm during a guitar solo. The photo later graced the cover of the Randy Rhoads Tribute album.

Where I've been is places, and what I've seen is things, and there've been times I've run off from seeing them, off to other places and things. I keep moving, me and this guitar with the silver strings slung behind my shoulder. Sometimes I've got food with me, and an extra shirt maybe, but most times just the guitar, and trust to God for what I need else.

The time I burned my guitar it was like a sacrifice. You sacrifice the things you love. I love my guitar.

My favorite guitar solo of all time was Elliot Randall's on 'Reelin' In The Years'.

I never practice my guitar. From time to time I just open the case & throw in a piece of raw meat.

I remember feeling for the first time going somewhere where I was part of a community where I didn't feel like an outcast. I felt like I belonged. Everyone had a guitar strapped to their back.

There's so much that can be done on the guitar. And that's what is so good about the guitar - everyone can really enjoy themselves on it and have a good time, which is what it's all about.

I never felt so close to a guitar as that silver one with mirrors that I used on stage all the time.

Every time I listen to Jeff Beck my whole view of guitar changes radically. He's way, way out, doing things you never expect.

I don't have a very disciplined approach to practicing or anything, but I do tend to have a guitar around most of the time, which I strum on most of the day.

I love Lindsey's work. I didn't hang around with him for seven years for nothing, listening to him play guitar every single night, watching him fall asleep with his electric guitar across his chest. There were nights I had to pry the guitar off of him so he could sleep in a normal position.

All my songs instinctively erupted from my guitar and lyrical visions followed the spirit of the music, bot image wise and rhythmical cadence wise. It remains one of life's greatest joys to this day.

Born On The Bayou

4. In between rounds at Wimbledon in 1982, I struggled to learn David Bowie's "Suffragette City" and "Rebel, Rebel" in my hotel flat. I heard a knock on my door. It was David Bowie. "Come up and have a drink," he told me. "Just don't bring your guitar.

I'd solo on my guitar; then sing; then solo; then sing some more. one stopped when the other started. That way I felt a continuity, not a conflict, like a wheel that keeps turning. Both sounds - guitar and voice - were coming out of me, but they issued from different parts of my soul.

The blues was bleeding the same blood as me. The blues didn't have to explain the mystery of pain that I felt; it was there in the songs and voices of singers like Lonnie Johnson and Blind Lemon Jefferson, in the cries of their guitars.

I still like to play the guitar, but I rarely have anything to do with the music business these days. I mean, there is no music business anymore, is there?