Perhaps I do share some of the blame for what happened next, but Ibanez made it possible. Goodbye indie, hello progressive metal! That’s when I formed that band. I could play along to Gary Moore at his most mental. But from the moment I experienced the wafer-thin neck and ultra-low action, with the silky-smooth fretboard that shrieked ‘play me!’, I was a man possessed.
Before I picked up that guitar, I could strum my way through Radiohead covers without a care in the world, and certainly not any hint of a deranged competitive streak. So, I ordered something in fetching metallic purple with 24 frets that turned up the following week. 24 frets was, like, 9% more, and 9% more notes to play had to be a good thing (this is the kind of rigorous thinking that gets you a degree these days). Now, knowing next to nothing about guitars, I took a peek through a magazine, and noticed that some Ibanez models had 24 frets, compared to my existing 22. I was in my second year of university, realising that I was having a good time with this guitar playing thing, in a somewhat sedate indie band, and that I needed a nice new guitar to take me to the next level. And, most of all, they owe all the people who sat in the audience from 2001-2003 and heard me play an apology. They owe all my ex-girlfriends an apology.
They owe a large number of people an apology.
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