“‘I know I’m supposed to be a guitar player,’ he goes on more seriously, 'but I don’t really feel like one. I’m not someone like, say, Eric Clapton. We can talk about him 'cause he’s my friend and I know about him, he’ll just plug in his guitar, listen to the tune and blow on it and be of a certain standard immediately. I have to figure out what I’m gonna do and maybe even learn a part. I’m just not that fluent with it.’
That opinion is open to debate. Co-Wilbury Jeff Lynne calls George 'a great guitar player. When he strikes up on the slide there’s nobody better; his precision, his vibrato is perfect. But he always plays it down.’
'I’m not playing it down,’ George counters. 'I’m just not playing it up! I think Keith [Richards] is one of the best rock 'n’ roll rhythm guitar players. I don’t think he’s very good at lead. But this is what I feel about myself too: What we do is make records, and the records have some good guitar parts on them. I like Keith enormously, I think he’s great, but he’s not Albert or B.B. King. Anyway, the main thing about him is that he has the confidence,’ George smiles. 'So even if it’s not perfect he doesn’t care.’
But isn’t there a virtue in concise, structured solos? Isn’t they what was sacrificed when guitar heroes came into vogue?
'Well, I’m certainly not a guitar hero,’ George avers.
Maybe not, but Eric Clapton’s solos on Cloud Nine owe more to the style of Beatles '65 than Cream.
'Oh, exactly. But I’ve never been one to force myself on everything, I like to have input from other people. If I have a song that calls for a kind of Eric Clapton guitar part, I daresay I could practice for an hour or so and do a part decent enough for the record. But all I’m doing is denying myself the opportunity of having Eric around and hanging out with him for a bit.
'I’m not trying to be the best guitar player. I don’t really care about it. To me, you can get the greatest guitar player in the world and in my eyes he’s still nothing compared to the musicians I really admire, the Ravi Shankars of the world. I’ve got a record in my bag now of a 12-year-old Indian guy playing electric mandolin who will blow away those guys in the heavy-metal bands, no question about it. It doesn’t impress me to hear some guy play this noisy fast shit. I’d rather be rehear Robert Johnson or Ry Cooder or Segovia. Those are the guitar players I like. But you know I like everything basically - except noisy headbanging shit.’ He laughs. 'And drum computers and DX7s and reverb!
'So I’m not impressed by all these guitar players. I could have become an adequate player. I could learn how to play like B.B. King; he plays the same lick all his life! He plays it very well. But it’s not my goal to play this lick that everybody else can play anyway. You can’t be everything in life. I’m just thankful that I’m here. And whatever I do, why, that’s it.’” - Musician, March 1990
bad boy,bad girl ( a jack gilinsky fan fiction) -chapter 18 :)
“Jack?” I woke up to the sound of Erica whisper my name. I slowly opened my eyes to check the time. It was 1 in the afternoon. I rolled over to face my girlfriend. I was shocked to find her sitting strait up, staring down at her phone. I knew immediately what she was looking at, that stupid text from Charlie.
“Yeah, baby?” I asked her while sitting up next to her. She turned her head to look at me with her wide eyes.
“He’s gonna find me. He’s gonna kill me. Oh my fucking god, Jack. I’m gonna die.” She said while collapsing into me. I wrapped my arms around her.
“No. No you’re not. Look, you’re always at my house anyways and he has no idea who I am or where I live. And we’ll go change your number today, okay? It’s all gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay.” I told her while rubbing her back. She sat back up and hopped off the bed.
She walked over to the window and threw open the blinds to uncover a dark sheet of rainy clouds.
“I love the rain.” I heard her mutter to me, or maybe herself.
She walked over to my dresser and she threw me a STL baseball tee and khaki shorts. I quickly got dressed and turned to find her wearing a grey sweatshirt and her leather jacket thrown on top. Her skin tight light wash jeans had rips in them from the time we went rock climbing. She walked over to me, her flip-flops flapping.
“Can we please go change it now?” She asked, even though I had already assumed that was what we were doing. I nodded and pulled her closer for a quick kiss.
She pulled back and gave me a slight smile.
“I love you."
"I love you too.”
We walked outside together and she threw her hood over her head and put her sun glasses on.
“No one can know who I am. Got it?” She asked while opening the car door.
I nodded, trying not to giggle at how adorable she was acting, even though she was being completely serious.
We drove to the T-Mobile store and walked to the back. I smiled as I recognized Cameron working the store, wearing a pink polo.
“Yo, Dallas!” I yelled. He looked up at me and smiled.
“Gilinsky!” He yelled back.
We walked to the front of the store.
“I didn’t know you worked here.” I said while fist bumping him.
“ Yeah, man. I gotta get cash. And fast. I need to replace the liquor cabinet before my parents realize.” He told me. I rolled my eyes and I knew Erica did the same.
“Anyways, we need to change Erica’s number.” I said gesturing to my girlfriend. He looked at her, as if finally realizing she was there.
“Oh okay. Why?” He asked.
I was about to say it was personal, before Erica spoke up.
“My mom’s trying to find me, but I’m running away with Gilinsky.” She said with a hint of sarcasm. We all chuckled and Cam quickly found a way to give her a new number.
Within minutes, we left. We got in the car and drove a little farther, stopped for McDonald’s and went home. When we got inside, Erica set the table with fancy candles and our good cutlery and we acted like grown ups. After that, we were all set to watch a movie and cuddle. I got blankets all set up and ordered ‘50 First Dates’, then I remembered something.
“Baby, you should call the guys and give them your new number.” I said to her.
“Good idea.” She said as she got up and went to go call the guys.
“Hey Johnson.” I said into my phone. I watched Jack as he leaned against the couch.
“Hey Baird, Whatsup?” He asked.
“Oh, I just wanted to tell you that I had to get a new number.” I said while twirling my hair.
“Oh, that’s good. It’s because of the Charlie thing, right?” He said. I nodded to myself.
Wait. He said Charlie thing. I felt my chest squeeze and it felt like I had no oxygen. He couldn’t know.
“What Charlie thing?” I asked, praying to god he was wrong.
“Oh, uh, Jack told me and Sammy the whole thing that happened with him. I feel so bad for you.” He said.
His words were stuck in my head. No. This couldn’t be happening. I trusted Jack. I trusted him with everything, now I was a vulnerable kitten when I used to be a powerful tigress.
“Johnson, I’ll call you later.” I said and hung up without waiting for his answer.
I put my phone on the table and walked around the couch and sat as far away from Gilinsky as I could.
“What’s wrong?” I heard him ask. I couldn’t bare look up at him, I would start crying.
“You told the guys…” I whispered. He was silent for a while.
“Look, I know I shouldn’t have, but they were there when you got the text and when you saw him in the water and they’re your best friends. They won’t tell, you can trust them.” He said. I couldn’t believe him. I felt warm tears fall down my face and I decided to look up at him, it was too late. His eyes were dark with worry.
“Jack, I would of told them. But I trusted you with my biggest secret. Don’t you get it? I DON’T WANT THEM TO KNOW!” I screamed while getting up in frustration. “People always assume I 'had it coming’ or I was a bad girlfriend that did drugs or something! I CAN’T GO THREW MORE FUCKING BULLSHIT JACK.” I yelled at him. I watched him turn around to face me.
“No one even thinks that. Are you fucking kidding me? What’s the big deal, it’s Sammy and Johnson.” He said while getting up as well.
“YOU THINK IT’S EASY FOR ME TO TRUST SAMMY? IN CASE YOU DON’T REMEMBER, HE BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF US JUST A FEW WEEKS AGO! AND AFTER CHARLIE IT’S A BIT HARD FOR ME TO TRUST PEOPLE, OKAY? AND I FINALLY TRUSTED YOU JACK!” I screamed as loud as I could. He stared at me with his puppy dog eyes, making it harder for me. “And you blew it.”
“AND YOU THINK IT’S EASY FOR ME TO DEAL WITH ALL YOUR BULLSHIT? ALL THIS CHARLIE STUFF, YOUR CRANKINESS AND STUBBORNESS. YOUR ENDLESS NEED FOR CIGARETTES AND ALCOHOL AND DRUGS? WHY CAN’T I JUST BE ENOUGH HUH?” He yelled, then slammed his fist into the wall. I let out a small gasp.
“I TOLD YOU HOW HARD IT WOULD BE. THAT A RELATIONSHIP WITH ME WOULDN’T BE EASY. BUT YOU WOULDN’T GIVE UP."
"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU. BUT DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS FOR ME?"
"WHAT ABOUT THE ACTUAL PERSON LIVING IT?” I wanted to punch him.
“WELL THIS ISIN’T ANY OF MY BULLSHIT, YET I STILL TAKE PART OF IT.”
“YOU KNOW WHAT MAYBE YOU’RE RIGHT. MAYBE I SHOULD NEVER HAVE GOTTEN INVOLVED. I SHOULD HAVE NEVER OF DANCED WITH YOU AT MY PLACE, RIGHT? NEVER HAVE GOTTEN INVOLVED WITH YOUR BULLSHIT OR YOU!”
I gasped, surprised. He took it too far this time. Jack and I bickered sometimes, but this was the biggest fight. I watched his face turn from angry to scared. I knew immediately that he regretted it.
“Consider it done, Jack."I answered him, tears filling my eyes once again. I ripped off my ring, and threw it at him. I heard it cling against the hardwood floor.
"Baby, I didn’t mean it.” He said while grabbing my arm as I twisted around trying to leave. I stopped in my tracks. I rolled my eyes and jerked my arm back.
“Don’t leave me, baby girl.” I heard him whisper. I opened the door and grabbed my bag.
“JACK DON’T YOU GET IT? IT’S TOO FUCKING LATE.” I yelled at him, looking at him one last time to find a pool of tears down his cheeks.
I walked out the door to realize it was poring rain. I ignored it and continued walking.
'Erica, please!“ He cried out.
I could feel my heart pounding, my head throbbing. How could this relationship rotten so fast? I wast past his driveway, my pace picking up. Soon I was sprinting, my breathing getting faster and faster. My hair was matting to my face, my makeup running. My eyes were like faucets that couldn’t be turned off. Soon I found myself in front of my house. I hadn’t even realized I was running that fast. I stared at my home, that seemed to be empty. I couldn’t call it home, I realized. It was barely my house. Between being at parties and at Jack’s house and the lake, I was never here. I didn’t want to go in. I considered going to the gas station, but it must be closed by now and I wasn’t exactly in the mood to sleep on the concrete floor. I realized, all I wanted to do was go to Jack’s. Cuddle with him, kiss him. But he was the one person in the world that I couldn’t talk to. I felt a sob, sneak out of my lips. I crashed myself against the brick wall and slid down to the floor. I ran my hands threw my hair, trying to calm down. But all I felt was heartbreak. I sobbed and sobbed uncontrollably, unstoppably until dawn.
this is the plot idk man
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