Like, Seriously

Tommy Emmanuel is a freaking GOD. I mean, if you think he’s cool and all on youtube, sure he’s talented and pretty damn amazing but it’s nothing till you’ve seen him in the flesh, standing five metres in front of you and cradling his worn guitars. For one, we were seated two rows from the front (thanks to yours truly who went batshit and demanded that we buy tickets at once) which was pretty kicky in itself because I swear, he turned and smiled at us at least four times and dayum! that boy can smile.

For another, his playing is just ri-friggin-diculous. He told stories about how he discovered Chet Atkins’ technique on the radio and showed us how he played bass, rhythm and melody on the same instrument but I still couldn’t pin his fingers down when he moved. He flicked, strummed, picked and hit the strings effortlessly, making some of the most weird and amazing sounds I’ve ever heard and he actually played drums on the body of his guitar and fretboard using his hands and drum brushes. That dude plays drums on the guitar better than some drummers play drums on the well… drums. And he did it all on his feet for two hours.

I could see the little grey licks of his fringe from where I was sitting and the spot worn clean off his guitar from his drumming on it. I could make out the little details of his wristwatch and even the tiny hole on his Taylor where his finger had punctured it a few gigs ago. The acoustics were absolutely amazing and when he played, the vibrations went right through the hall, into my ribcage and down to the tips of my toes. When he played Mombasa and Classical Gas, I practically screamed till I was hoarse and when he whipped out his famous Beatles medley, I nearly peed myself. But it was during Somwhere Over the Rainbow that my hair actually stood on the back of the neck as the harmonics seemed to float in the air right above my head.

Basically, it was an almost transcendental experience, better live than on the record, better close and in the dark than tinny and distant through cumbersome earphones.

At the end of the whole concert, after we’d shouted him on for a last encore, my brother turned to me in disbelief and said, “I’m going to go home and burn my guitar right now.”

Which was exactly the way I felt.

Except that I don’t really have a guitar and even so, I’m not all that great at starting a fire.