Semie Moseley was no stranger to self-promotion; he drove around town in a Mosrite-logoed Cadillac, he slept in a sunburst bed, and he put his guitars in the hands of darn near every picker with a name from Bakersfield to Nashville. Or tried to at least.
You know the success stories: Buck Owens, Joe & Rose Lee Maphis, The Collins Kids, The Ventures, The Ramones.
Then there were the cats who got 'em but seldom played theirs: Don Rich, Roy Nichols, Merle Haggard, Conway Twitty, Ricky Nelson.
And the near misses: George H.W. Bush, Dolly Parton.
I'm guessing this beast belongs to the third category.
All guitar enthusiasts are equally well acquainted with the banal and the exciting, but the confounding is a rare treat, an instrument so improbable it just should not exist. The gulch between Gene Simmons in a Nudie Suit and Semie Moseley in a studded codpiece is plenty wide, and confusing as heck.
No comments:
Post a Comment