A COMMON question I get in the old world, as a musician, is “What is the best guitar to buy if I want to play guitar?”

But before I get on with how I respond to such a broad and frankly lazy question by random strangers, let me give you the lowdown on what I think about guitars.

A guitar is merely a tool to me. Specifically, a song-writing tool. And like any tool, it all depends on who wields it to suit its design and purpose to the user’s own needs.

This world we live in is littered with tools – so many tools that most of them have completely no use for us in our daily lives.

But the utility of the tools is marketed to us “for future use” or “for rainy days”.

How many times have you walked into a Mr DIY or any one of the chainstores that dot this fertile land, innocently browsing the aisle after picking up what you came for, and walked away with more than you originally intended to purchase?

When I ask my film and music students about the most important technology invented by humans, they are often stumped.

Some say fire, some say some the spear, or some form of hunting object.

When I usually tell them that the wheel is the most important technology ever made (you can retort or correct me in the comments section below, but for now I hold the proverbial mic in my hand) although I hardly back that with any research or citation.

I use this question as a tool to get their attention in class, a trickier proposition now with online classes.

Maybe because they entered university with the idea of specialising in a specific field (film and music in this case), they feel there is little need to understand anything else outside of filmmaking and music, which to a student means mastering the tools of their future trades like lenses, the video camera, lighting, instruments, or recording equipment amongst others.

In my years of teaching in the field of media arts, the performing arts and the general creative industry, the oftentimes forgotten aspect which tends to be overlooked is “context”.

To me, context is everything, especially in the arts. Context gives weight and depth to the form, not the opposite, which is the fallacy of many.

I’ll give you that stranger asking me about buying a guitar as an example. I could answer in a typical way of playing to brands: “Oh, depends on what you’re looking for – a Fender Stratocaster is a good reliable brand and it’s an iconic model in rock history – Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, you name it – it’s their go.”

And I’ll tell you one thing: I don’t own a Fender Stratocaster. I play a 1995 Mexican Fender Telecaster, my first and only electric guitar until recently, I bought first hand at 18 in KL with my years of duit Raya savings.

But the Telecaster is not a “common” model that is associated with the supposed image of the dexterous lead guitarist – the Stratocaster takes that honour.

A less typical answer to such a question would be: “Oh, what’s your budget?”

This is less typical because it really depends on the contexts of the socio-economic status of the person based on how they look, speak, and profession and the social occasion I encountered this person.

If he was a crusty kid at an underground punk gig, I would give a very different answer as to someone who would come up to me at an uptown jazz music venue.

This choice of answer would probably frustrate you the reader because I’m not giving you a clearer and more elaborate answer here and now. But that’s the exact problem of explaining context in the here and now.

Most of the responses to my answer tend to be “Oh I thought the more expensive the guitar, the better lah.”

The more expensive, the better. Such wishful thinking.

Is this how we have come to collectively perceive how life transpires? Everything and everyone has a price it seems and the simplistic one-way trajectory to prestige and glory increases if one can afford to pay for it.

It’s like those tycoons who can afford to buy a Ferrari but don’t know much about the engine. Or those tasteless and aesthetically misplaced Roman pillars on opulent bungalows.

There are no shortcuts, buddy. You learn, you make mistakes, then you learn from those mistakes, you grow, you keep playing, just play, get the feel… then maybe, just maybe, you’ll get ‘better”.

You get better by doing – or “practising”, to use a more laborious sounding word. It is through doing that one discovers context.

Oh yes, and you should also read and do your homework, don’t just live off the words of others – the root of our “fake news” phenomenon is a similar alchemy of ignorance and ease, ease that comes with ill-begotten wealth.

And just like that stranger asking for guitar tips, how society is run now – especially our national politics – we find ourselves in a familiar conundrum and stasis that boil down to “deals” for a price.

Will some change happen by this evening? Or maybe more of the same just bottled differently? The latter is already a national problem since the culture of “paying” for shortcuts has become standard practice in the halls of power.  

We never learn from history. Now I think I know why they made history such a boring subject in school: so that we won’t pay too much attention and don’t ask questions – and questions are the root of philosophical inquiry.

History is the plate of context and context is a tool – the ability to understand it will enable us to “use” the people we’ve entrusted with our votes.  

Don’t be that guy who asks for guitar tips and thinks he can skip practising just by buying the most expensive guitar.

Don’t let wealth turn you into an ignoramus par excellence. – August 20, 2021.

* Azmyl Yunor is a touring underground recording artiste, and an academic in media and cultural studies. He has published articles on pop culture, subcultures and Malaysian cultural politics. He adheres to the three-chords-and-the-truth school of songwriting, and Woody Guthrie’s maxim “All you can write is what you see”. He is @azmyl on Twitter.