File under "biting the hand that feeds"

I've been playing guitar for going on four years now, and taking lessons for a little over three.

My acoustic is a Seagull, made in La Patrie, Quebec - quite a nice instrument with a full, rich tone. My electric is a G&L Legacy - basically a Fender Stratocaster-type, built by the company started by the guys (George Fullerton and Leo Fender) who started Fender guitars, so I guess if anyone's going to copy the Fender style, it should be them. My Legacy, like all G&L guitars, was custom-ordered and hand-built in the G&L shop in Fullerton, California. The nice part is, since it's not a Fender, I was able to pay much, much less for a custom-built guitar. No one, apart from the luthier at the shop, played my guitar before I did (which, I was assured by the guitar geeks at River City Music and Sound where I ordered the instrument through, is very good guitar mojo). And, just to add an extra layer of cool (or nerdiness, you decide) - both instruments are left-handed. Being left-handed has had its limitations (shout out to Sherry, who knows this old saw quite well), but I finally get my revenge in that, in an average gathering of people, no one can play my guitars except me. Granted, I can't play anyone else's guitar, either, so if I want to play I always have to have my instrument with me, but still.

Anyway, I've actually reached a point where I can bang out a few songs. One of my favorites, and a really easy one to play, is "The Last DJ" by Tom Petty.

I was listening to the tune on the way home from my guitar lesson tonight, and I was particularly struck by the poignancy and sheer gutsiness of the lyrics, especially considering Petty's slamming the very people who sign his royalty checks, literally. I really dig the line about celebrating mediocrity - oh, how true, how true.

I guess this makes him one of my rock and roll heroes.

Here's the lyrics, in case you're interested:

The Last DJ
Tom Petty

Well you can’t turn him into a company man
You can’t turn him into a whore
And the boys upstairs just don’t understand anymore
Well the top brass don’t like him talking so much
And he won’t play what they say to play
And he don’t want to change what don’t need to change

And there goes the last DJ
Who plays what he wants to play
And says what he wants to say
Hey, hey, hey

And there goes your freedom of choice
There goes the last human voice
There goes the last DJ

Well some folks say they’re gonna hang him so high
Because you just can’t do what he did
There’s some things you just can’t put in the minds of those kids
As we celebrate mediocrity all the boys upstairs want to see
How much you’ll pay for what you used to get for free

And there goes the last DJ
Who plays what he wants to play
And says what he wants to say
Hey, hey, hey
And there goes your freedom of choice
There goes the last human voice
And there goes the last DJ

Well he got him a station down in Mexico
And sometimes it will kinda come in
And I’ll bust a move and remember how it was back then

There goes the last DJ
Who plays what he wants to play
And says what he wants to say
Hey, hey, hey
And there goes your freedom of choice
There goes the last human voice
And there goes the last DJ