NEVILLE’S ADVOCATE

While Nev is not immune to some jealousy about the abilities of other players, sometimes the only response is pure joy

Guitar Techniques has a ‘60 Seconds With…’ feature with a set of questions that includes ‘Is there anyone’s playing, past or present, that you’re slightly jealous of?’ Invariably the answers begin with, “Well, I don’t like to call it jealousy, more like respect” or something similar. And, indeed, my own position usually contains reverence for a player, but there have been occasions…

In the past, when being introduced to a player of whom I wasn’t aware, if they were clearly better than me and played in my general style, my first response was one of jealousy. But jealousy tempered with annoyance at myself – if I’d worked harder maybe I could have been as good. In my 20s I shared a house with a mate who was a pretty tasty player. We were similar yet different enough to gel, but he did like to put me in my place from time to time. He’d say things like, “You think you’re great, but so-and-so and so-and-so [local players who I didn’t know] would blow you off the stage.”

Just a couple of years later I was depping with a band and the other guitarist was ‘so-and-so number one’. I had no idea what to expect, but I’ll admit to a bit of trepidation. When we played, it was clear that, while we had areas where one was slightly better than the other, the sum of the parts wasn’t so different. But I was still a tad jealous of the areas in which he was better than me.

The following week I was depping with the same band and, I kid you not, this time the other guitarist was ‘so-and-so number two’. My experience of the previous gig left me feeling confident about the coming evening. We had no soundchecks in those days, so just launched straight into the set. You know what’s coming: he totally and utterly wiped the floor with me. He was superior in all areas. Even worse, he was using a Telecaster copy and I was brandishing a real Gibson Les Paul! However, here’s the funny thing: he was so much better that there was no jealousy at all. I loved everything he did and felt privileged to share the same stage.

The reason for this preamble is that something similar happened at the UK Guitar Show in London recently. I watched – alongside my colleagues from our magazines and websites – the unbelievable Eric Gales. I’d not seen him before, but there was lots of buzz and hype, so I wasn’t sure how good he was actually going to be. Well, it was a jaw-dropping experience. We stood there with huge grins on our faces, mesmerised at his brilliance as a player, his aura, his humour and selfdeprecation, even though he surely knows he’s amazing.

He had every base covered: brilliant chords, stunning lead – seemingly infinite ability at everything he tried. He improvised his way through almost an hour of the most amazing blues-jazz-rock I’ve ever seen. It culminated in a totally ‘invented on the spot’ version of Little Wing, the likes of which none of us had ever witnessed.

While it was a humbling experience there wasn’t a whiff of jealousy from anyone. He was so far above us that all we could do was adore him. Eric’s from a family of musicians and has been playing since he was a kid. He’s had struggles but grown as a musician to the point where I’d suggest he’s probably the greatest blues guitarist out there – so much so that Joe Bonamassa is producing and guesting on his new album next year.

I don’t get jealous any more. I’m fully aware of my strengths and weaknesses and that we all have a little something that no-one else has. Let’s just revel in that.