The news of Peter Frampton’s condition, a degenerative muscle disease called inclusion body myositis, and announced by Frampton himself on February 23, 2019, is of course bitter news made bearable by the fact he’s not dead, but will just be slowing down some. Those blisteringly fast and sublimely melodic solos that he has created during 50 years of touring and recording will remain, as will he and that amazing smile. I am sure, even after he completes his upcoming blowout tour, there will still be a lot for Peter to complete.
Reading the news of his condition in a New York Times story led me to an another Frampton-related article from 2012, which talked about his reunion with his iconic triple-humbucker Les Paul Black Beauty that went missing after a cargo plane crash in 1980. The article, by New York Times writer James McKinley Jr (Twitter: @jamesmckinleyjr) describes how the instrument escaped a fiery obliteration in Venezuela, only to be adopted by an individual in Curaçao, then discovered by a customs agent who repairs guitars in his spare time, and returned to Peter with the help of a diehard fan in the Netherlands as well as the head of the island’s tourist board.
Frampton was naturally delighted to get his guitar back and it didn’t take him long to be sure it was genuine. That’s one of the benefits of being a full-time pro-guitarist. You get so intimate with your individual instruments, you can recognize them by touch alone. He took the pickups to Nashville to be replaced, but he kept the scorch marks on the neck.
A similar thing happened to April Wine frontman and composer Myles Goodwyn, who got his 1962 Gibson Melody Maker stolen in 1972 and returned only last year, December 31, 2018. He, too, knew it was the real thing as soon as he got got back in his hands.
It’s weird to see my two musical heroes in almost the exact same pose (and clothes) celebrating the exact same happy ending to a multi-decade mystery.
(As a side note, in tribute to these two great guitarists, I play a version of Could Have Been a Lady with a Frampton solo at the end, which always goes over well. You can see video of it here.)
I am sure there are many, many stories like this. The love for a particular guitar is made even more poignant by the fact that these artists can afford to buy as many guitars as they want, or have guitar manufacturers give some to them in exchange for an endorsement. When George Harrison lost his Gretsch Country Gentleman (it fell off the top of their tour van on the M1 in 1965 – read the story at the BeatlesBible here), he admitted he could have as many guitars as he wanted, but he had grown attached to that particular one. B.B. King’s Gibson, Lucille, enjoyed a better fate when it was rescued from a burning hotel. It was just that precious.
Mentioning George Harrison inevitably leads to the amazing story of Lucy, a 1957 Les Paul Goldtop that had been repainted red. It had been owned by Rick Derringer, John Sebastian, and Eric Clapton before arriving at George’s Beverly His home. It was then stolen and taken to Mexico where it was essentially held for ransom. The full story is available in Beatles Gear, All the Fab Four’s Instruments, From Stage to Studio by Andy Babiuk. An excerpt, focusing on Lucy, is also available at B&B Guitars here as well as in my post here.
Guitars have a style and a personality all their own, and these models, epitomize this. Great tunes were written on them, concerts were played with them, and many famous hands touched them. As such, the artists’ souls and physical selves have blended with the wood and the finish and they have all changed and matured over time.
As for Peter Frampton, he will always be one of the greatest guitar virtuosos of rock. His solos were not just blues scales – they sang. There was melody to them. George Harrison, (of course), Eric Clapton, and Myles Goodwyn – all that beautiful music. And part of it came from the inexorable connection between the artists and their guitars.