I Had an Allan Holdsworth Cassette Once

 

I had an Allan Holdsworth cassette once
I can picture it now in the trunk of my car
I think it was Bill who gave it to me
He knew I played guitar
He said I needed
To listen to it
To consider myself
A real guitarist
The tape was red and white
With Allan Holdsworth’s name
In blue pen on the label
Somehow I knew I would never
Listen to this cassette
But in my mind I acted as if I would
I transferred it from the trunk of my car
To a shoebox with other cassettes
Close to my boom box
It traveled to different cities with me
Milwaukee Chicago Baltimore
But remained laying down in the box
What are those things we do not like
But do not know why?
Did the name Allan Holdsworth
Sound like a math teacher to me?
Did I think he was cold & analytical
Not an organic player?
I remember hearing this other guitarist say
That he thinks he plays around 12,000 notes a night
And I thought: That might be 11,000 too many
And maybe that's what I was afraid of
With Allan Holdsworth
A bee swarm of notes I couldn't escape
But he deserved better from me
I need to listen to Allan Holdsworth