There are No Casual Guitarists

 Robin Finck is my favorite guitarist.

Has been since I was a kid. Since I first watched Nine Inch Nails' Woodstock appearance on pay-per-view at a friends house one night. Captured me.

There are a number of others I greatly admire, respect, and steal from. Reeves Gabrels. Thurston Moore. Nick Zinner and Nels Cline. So on. But Robin Finck has always been my image of what guitar music could represent. Should represent. Bordering, straddling, dancing on the line between noise and music. The capability to accurately cover damn near the entire spectrum of human emotion without uttering a single word.

One minute classical and clean finger-picking, and the next screaming feedback and ripping strings off guitars. All with an attitude I can only describe as chaotic indifference. Robin Finck doesn't play guitar. He commands it.

Why am I writing this?

I don't know. It's on my mind.

Occassionally I've been called a guitarist. But that's not accurate. I'm not a guitarist. I play guitar. 

I think there's a distinction that needs to be recognized more often. Calling me a guitarist seems disrespectful to the people, like Robin Finck, who have achieved a level of both skill and voice in their playing. There's also a certain amount of dedication that I believe should be factored in. How much time, energy, and love have you poured in to those six strings? There are no casual guitarists. Only guitar players. 

I'm a guitar player.

Robin Finck's a guitarist.