Pages tagged with Guitars

"A poignant reminiscence of a woman recalling how she lost her beloved, a man named Gary, who filled her soul with music and love. Now, elderly, lonely and depressed, she finds his guitar love melody returns one day in a surprising way to haunt her."
This article tells you about the most important things you simply must know when starting to learn how to play guitar.
This is my tribute to Christmas. I got too much occupied with a lot of things, this commitment to write on each day of the Christmas Week is my offering to the season's message to each and everyone of us.
In this article, I discuss my choices for the five greatest rock guitar players of all time!
Recently, there has been a raid on gibson guitars for illegal wood in Nashville Tennessee.
There's always room for one more of something... but what that might be will vary depending on who we are.
~ rock stars on the other side of the wall ~ guitarists & singers ~ wild-eyed drummers ~ I crank up my industrial fan ~ a Black & Decker special ~ chop the music up into digestible pieces ~ closing my eyes ~ I remember the wild days ~
While perhaps best known as one of David Bowie’s head “Spiders” from Mars, guitarist Mick Ronson is a renown song writer, multi-instrumentalist, solo performer, arranger, and music producer whose extraordinary talents were enlisted by Bob Dylan, Ian Hunter, Van Morrison, John Me...
~It is a far reach to a poor child in the tenements, that of being a responsible parent~a far but attainable, necessary, and worthy reach~having done so, looking back~I catch myself wondering, what’s next, what did I miss~
~Ever attempted a conversation with someone, a five-year-old in their lap squeezing & squeaking a balloon~that’s what it felt like in my rock ‘n roll days~guitar players & drummers pickin’ & clankin’ while I was busy trying to concentrate, to write lyrics~
~ Why don’t you take me out walkin’ until my feet are under water~my eyes are full of sand~I’ll look down and wonder~all gritty~where the hell did they go~
In the waking of my life, I come to mourn; I see everything’s the same. The beast is in the garden and he charges until the walls fall down again.
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