The One That Got Away

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I've just caught a YouTube of a couple of young Brits in Sweden, buying a '63 Fender Strat. Two things, or rather, three: I'll get to the third in a bit. First off, a '63 Strat is a guitar of which I know something, albeit now at some years distance. My mate from school, Kev White, bought one from a second-hand music shop on Broad Street, Birmingham, for the princely sum of around £120, in 1973 (a new Start was circa £180 at the time). It was a Fiesta Red refin, I think - there weren't many original finishes left in '63, anyway, but whichever - in beautiful nick at the time, and a bargain, even then. Today's value? £25,000, at least.

So, the two young kids buying the guitar in Sweden in the video either had to have considerably deeper pockets than Kev would ever have had, or they were ripped off: the price they paid was not disclosed. The guitar sounded pretty vintage, in the way that only very well played instruments do, so I don't have good reason to doubt its provenance. Given hands-on experience with it, I think I would be able to tell within seconds whether it was genuine or not, but that's another story, but I hope they will continue to use and enjoy the guitar for many years, and not treat it like some financial investment asset.

The third thing, which follows on from having played, and enjoyed playing, Kev's guitar all those decades ago, is the guitar that I've alluded to before, that, to my mind, is the one enormous fish that got away from me: the 60s Telecaster that I almost bought for £161 back in '72 - exactly similar to the 1960 one pictured - after I left school. Like the Strat, it had a rosewood fingerboard, skinny frets and attitude. It played like silk, sounded like trouble, and I've never got over letting it slip through my fingers to this very day. If it even mattered - and it wouldn't, as it was an absolute keeper - I guess I would have to fork out £15-20,000 for it these days.

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