Like, I suspect, a lot of people growing up in the ’80s, my first exposure to the electric guitar didn’t come primarily from my parents’ record collection (which admittedly was a great place to go for the Beatles, the Stones, the Who, Leonard Cohen, and some choice Motown singles), or from going to a life‑changing gig. Instead, my early introductions to the instrument that would go on to form the basis of my entire career came via the medium of the big‑box VHS cassettes we rented from the video store for our family movie nights.
The first Back To The Future film was a significant turning point in my guitar journey. From the opening scene where Marty McFly plugs in the little travel guitar, dimes the amp’s controls and blows up the comically oversized speaker to the iconic rendering of Chuck Berry’s ‘Johnny B Goode’ in the infamous ‘Enchantment Under The Sea’ dance scene, the film may as well have been commissioned by the Electric Guitar Marketing Board. By the time the end credits rolled, the primary school‑aged me was well and truly sold.
But this was far from the only film from this time period that impressed the importance of the guitar onto my young and impressionable self. It only dawned on me recently that long before I knew who he actually was, I first became aware of the six‑string wizardry of Steve Vai when I saw him play the role of the Devil’s guitarist Jack Butler opposite Ralph Macchio (of Karate Kid fame) in the 1986 film Crossroads. The famous guitar duel between the two (with both parts played by Vai!) at the film’s climax is so intimidatingly good that it is said to have ended as many guitar careers as it started!
It was even in one of the films from this time period (OK, technically it was released in the early ’90s, but close enough!) that I was first introduced to the concept of GAS or gear acquisition syndrome. Every time I fall in love with the latest piece of ‘must‑have’ gear, I am transported back to the scene in Wayne’s World where our protagonist gazes through the music store window at the white Fender Stratocaster he dubs Excalibur, and utters the famous words: “It will be mine. Oh yes, it will be mine.”
Soon, I didn’t even need to see the instrument to recognise its sonic signature. In fact, it wasn’t until I started writing this article that I realised how many times the guitar greats who went on to later inspire my own playing were first revealed to me through the soundtracks of the films from this era. For example, my first auditory glimpse of Nuno Bettencourt’s string‑skipping brilliance? The mall scene in Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure. My first introduction to Brian May’s multi‑layered guitar harmonies? Flash Gordon. The first time I heard Steve Stevens’ majestic lead playing? Top Gun. I could go on!
My entire career owes a debt of inspiration to those well‑worn VHS tapes that introduced me to so many stories and worlds outside of my own...
So although a part of me would like to claim that my guitar origin story began with some unheard‑of esoteric album, or from attending a mythical and deeply profound live gig, the truth is that my entire career owes a debt of inspiration to those well‑worn VHS tapes that introduced me to so many stories and worlds outside of my own, and to the instrument that to this day still intrigues, fascinates, frustrates, and enchants me.
Be kind, please rewind.