It was February 1962, just outside Philadelphia when my
friend Tony and I started hanging outside of bars to hear what we could of the
bands working them. Those parking lots were cold in the dead of winter, but
we didn't care. We were dedicated to the guitar and had heard that, on this
particular night, someone in there was playing guitar like nobody else.
The band was called The Temptations?not the "Ain't Too
Proud to Beg" Temptations who caught the attention of the world a few years
later?but a local group affectionately referred to as "The Temps." And the guitarist
was Roy Buchanan, the reason we were there. We'd heard from reliable sources
that he was doing things with a white-neck Telecaster that nobody else was.
We stood outside many a bar trying to catch a little bit of what the local bands
were doing. This wasn't because of lack of funds; we were only 12 years old.
Everything was going fine until a bouncer came out and
chased us away, threatening to call the cops. Time for plan "B". We recruited
a regular bar patron to take a tape recorder into the establishment and bring
the goods home to us. That way we could listen to these much-talked-about licks
in the comfort of home.
W
e listened to those tapes over and over, even using one
of his instrumentals called "Jam" (a little number whereby he would get a continuous
A on the top E by wrapping his left thumb around the top of the neck, while
playing the melody with the middle and ring finger of his right hand on the
G and B, and bending the needed notes with his third finger?all the while deadening
the top E by lightly laying the heel of his right hand against the string) as
our theme song. As time passed we continued to hear more and more stories about
Roy, although most of them turned out to be gossip and conjecture intended to
embellish the mystique, rather than focus on the genius of the musician himself.
During those years I often wondered what he was up to, or if indeed he was still
alive. Then the story broke in Rolling Stone, "The World's Greatest Unknown
Guitarist." So he was still playing, and gaining national recognition. It turned
out that he was still playing bars, but in the Washington D.C. area.
After purchasing an album of Roy's in the mid 70's recorded
on the Polydor label I wrote and told him about the old bar tapes that I still
possessed. One night I received a call from someone claiming to be Roy Buchanan.
I was sure it couldn't really be the Roy Buchanan, but I played along anyway.
After all, what did I have to lose?
"Come on, really, who is this?"
"This is Roy Buchanan."
"Is that you, Tony?"
"No, this is Roy Buchanan. You wrote a letter to
me about some tapes that you had from a long time ago when I was with The Temps."
That did it. I knew it was him. After all those years
I had him on my telephone?the voice of the voiceless, faceless, wordless, but
not fingerless master of the guitar that up until this time had only been a
name, an Icon, a thing that talked to me on tape, on vinyl, on TV. But this
was different. He was in my ear, talking, calling me by name, "Is this John
Wynne? I'm taking kind of a chance here, but did you write to me about some
old tapes of me with The Temps?" "Yes, that was me." How could I show him some
identification through the phone wire proving I was the person that he wanted
to talk to? But why did he want to talk to me, anyway? "It was a little tough
getting in touch with you, since you're at a different address since you wrote
to me."
He had taken an extra effort to get in touch with me.
This must really be important to him. "I'd like to get a copy of those tapes,
if that's at all possible." "Sure, I could make a copy and send it to you."
"I went through a number of years doing some pretty hard drugs and I really
don't even remember much about how I played back then. I'd really like to hear
where my head was at back then."
I went on to ask him about his move to Atlantic Records,
which had transpired not long before his call. I had read in Time magazine where
Atlantic was letting him write his own ticket. According to Roy, this was anything
but true.
"They want me to be another Joe Walsh," he told
me. "All I want to do is play. I'm even thinking of starting my own blues label
and finding a distributor to market them." Of course, he stayed with Atlantic
through several albums?some containing some good work, others failing to bring
out the true Buchanan genius.
I asked him about some of the albums that he had recorded
while with Polydor. I was especially interested in the live album entitled "Livestock."
I was surprised to find that he did not consider this one of his better live
sets due to the fact that one of his band members had "shot-up" just before
going on. I suggested to him that maybe the incident had produced a kind of
an edge in his playing that night which may not have been there otherwise, and
he agreed. He was also very appreciative of my love for his work.
"I've been off the drugs for a few years now. I
know that you probably like to smoke a joint once in a while, but the hardest
thing I do anymore is drink a beer."
I wanted to get back to the important things at hand so
I asked him about his total allegiance to the old Fender Telecasters over the
years (of which I was a devotee myself). "The only guitar that I can get the
bite and sound I need from is the old Tele's, preferably the '53's They have
the pickups wound in such a way that you don't need to do anything to augment
them to get the sound you want. I get calls all the time from people all over
the country that have old Tele's. I buy up every one I can. Take Jimi, for instance.
He played a Strat, but he had to run it through a stack of Marshalls to get
the power he wanted. All I do is plug into a Fender Vibrolux and I've got all
the power I need."
Since he got onto the subject, I asked him about Jimi
Hendrix. ?He was the greatest. He did things nobody was doing and will never
do again.? Roy had been doing many innovative things years before Jimi made
the scene nationally, but yet Roy clearly loved Jimi?s playing, to the point
of idolizing him. I was a bit surprised, but looking back, it was understandable?great
artists appreciate other great artists. Roy questioned me about the contents
of the tapes that I had of him and I explained that it was an interesting mix.
While the Temps were a bar band, they had to include some top 40 in their repertoire,
so there were songs on the tapes such as ?If You Wanna be Happy,? ?Night Train?
and ?Everybody,? but they showcased Roy on unlikely bar fare such as ?Malaguena,?
and ?Flight of the Bumblebee.? Of course, all of the songs contained inventive
solos that still amaze me, even to this day.
We finally ended our conversation with my thanking him
for calling and assuring him that I would get a copy of the tapes to him, and
him thanking me for writing to him and saying that he enjoyed talking to someone
who was familiar with his music for so long. Two days passed. I had already
sent the tapes off, when I received another call.
?Hi, John??
"Yes, what's wrong Roy? I sent the tapes. You should
have them in a few days." "Oh, thanks. I had a thought that maybe we could build
a new album around those tapes and as part of the package we'll include a story
about how you used to listen to me outside the bars and got the tapes to me,
and maybe you could do some touring with me and open the show." I was, to say
the least, dumbfounded. I explained to him that I had a family and commitments
locally that I couldn't abandon. He explained that he had six kids at the time
and that he never went on the road for extended periods of time.
"Hell, you'll never have to play in another bar
again," he reassured me. "I don't know. I'll have to think about it." That was
my mistake. Thinking about it. I should have jumped at the opportunity, but
I didn't.
I continued to follow his career, buying every album that
came out. Nothing hinted of those early recordings, but they were good, nonetheless.
In July 1988 1 read in a local paper that Roy was appearing
at a club in Fort Lauderdale. I jumped at the chance to finally see him play
live. We booked a hotel in Lauderdale and drove to the site of the concert that
night in July. He ascended the stage and proceeded to take his stand with Telecaster
in hand looking like it was a part of him?as if his life would end if you removed
it. He played and blew everyone in attendance away. I was not disappointed.
After all these years, I finally got to see him play live.
Ironically, about two weeks later I picked up the very
same paper which told of the concert?only this time it was telling me of his
death. The papers called it suicide. I don't believe it for a minute. I agree
with those who were much closer to him personally than I ever was that there
should be further investigation into the matter. But what really matters is
that the guitar world and the music world in general has lost a giant. Fortunately
we still have his recordings. Recently I obtained some recordings of some more
of his early works and it just reaffirmed my belief in his artistry. I'm glad
that he was here to touch us all and that I was able to speak to him all those
years ago. And I miss a friend. Thanks, Roy.
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