Back, in the late 80's, I joined a western swing band that did a lot of Spade Cooley covers and I had to learn Joaquin's solos. Not a simple task and at the time, since I was required to play a non-pedal guitar, I bought some Bigsbys. Keep in mind that nobody wanted a Bigsby back then.
One of the guitars had been Joaquin's, and since I had been having so much trouble learning his solos, I decided to call him up to ask him what his tunings had been and how did he get through those diminished structures so quickly. He was living in a trailer park, in Pacoima, not exactly a vacation destination, so I gave him a call. I also knew that he had some drinking issues.
He answered the phone and I introduced myself, told him I was learning his solos and that I had one of his guitars. To which he gruffly replied, "I had a lot of guitars". Umm, well ,ok, um, well, I was wondering what your tuning was... "I had had a lot of tunings....Hey listen, they wouldn't let me play what I wanted to play, so, f*ck them and f*ck you." Click, he hung up the phone.
Wow, that's the first time one of my heroes has told me to f*ck myself to my face. They usually say that behind my back, but never to my face. This could be the start of a trend.
I called Jerry Compton, one of Joaquin's friends, and he said, well, that sounds like Joaquin. Why don't you try asking him about his '48 Cadillac, he loved that car, and I'm a big fan of Cadillacs.
Photo of Joaquin's Cad, compliments of Paul Greenstein.
I gave it a couple of weeks, called him again and started the conversation about Cadillacs.
He said it was a wonderful car, sounded like a Chris Craft motor boat. But shortly there after, he figured out that I was a musician and I got a rerun of the f*ck them, f*ck you routine. Sometimes things don't go the way I want them to go.
Fast forward to around 1995. I get a call that Joaquin is sober and wants to play guitar again, would I let him play his Bigsby. I said, of course, but I'm going to want an autograph.
Then I get a call from Michael, that Joaquin doesn't really want that guitar, he wants one like the one he had, that got confiscated. I told him that somebody should hunt down those guys, chop off their hands, and of course I would help him get what he wants. Maybe we modify a single neck or something.
Now, some of you might be thinking, why would I help someone who had told me to go f*ck myself. First of all, that's hardly the first time someone has told me that and you have to remember the circumstances and who this man is/was.
Some time later, I get a call, from Michael, that they are all over at Don McGinness' house, about 8 blocks from mine, and could they come over to take some measurements, for the guitar. (Don and Doug McGinness had a bar, called the Mule Kick, that became the Palomino.) Whoa, I start having an anxiety attack. It's like if you're Catholic and the Pope is coming to your house. I'm also not known for my house keeping skills, but Michael assured me that it wouldn't be a problem, Joaquin's trailer was pretty creative.
There's a knock at the door, Michael and Don come in followed by this absolutely delightful, little old man and we start talking about guitars and music. Joaquin sits behind my Sho-Bud, it doesn't have his tuning or string spacing, but he takes out his picks, that look like straight darts off his finger tips and a bar that looks like he got it at a swap meet, strums the guitar a couple of times, starts picking around a bit saying, "now, where was that", then he launches into some solo runs.
My jaw hits my chest. He hasn't had a guitar in 14 years and I have no hope of playing like that, in my lifetime. He also had a "gift" where he could strum the guitar, a couple of times, and regardless of the tuning, would know where every note, for every string, was on every fret. His right hand was the lightest I had ever seen and he just skimmed over the strings.
One of the stories I had heard was, he was always experimenting with different tunings and regardless of what was on the guitar that week, he would take it and play the gig with what ever was on there. It also answered my question, how did you get through those diminished structures, so fast.