Remembering John Sinks… and “Hope”

Co-author of perhaps the most melodic and delicate piece of Crafty repertoire that the short lived but absolutely brilliant Robert Fripp String Quintet performed live at their remarkable shows back in the early 1990s – John Sinks was not just a musician, composer, or Crafty Guitarist – he was all three of those things certainly, but he was also, so, so much more – guitar tech extraordinaire for King Crimson / Robert Fripp, John worked in the industry for many, many years and gained an amazing wealth of audio knowledge that he shared freely and with great kindness to all he came into contact with.

I was fortunate enough to be on a Guitar Craft course during the same week as John was and the following remembrance examines an afternoon spent in John’s company – which changed my entire life dramatically and sent me down so many new and exciting “musical paths” that I am still exploring today so, so many years later.

When I learned on January 15th, 2020 that John has passed away back on December 29, 2019 (may he rest in peace) I was immediately moved to try and capture something of the indomitable spirit of the man by recounting my one and only encounter and interaction with him – one of the best experiences I ever had and one that has helped me, encouraged me and informed me every since that day back at the beginning of the 1990s.

At the Guitar Craft course that both myself and John Sinks were at, I do not know however if he was only present in his capacity as Robert Fripp’s guitar tech, if he was attending that course in full as a Crafty Guitarist – or perhaps both – but by sheer chance I ended up in John’s company for one remarkable, rainy wish of a day in Los Angeles, California – as I had rather recounted the following experience in a Facebook post on January 15, 2020 I thought I would present it here in a less raw, more formal setting as part of a blog – rather than in the “unedited not proof read” version that I accidentally-posted-before-I-was-even-done-writing-it original Facebook post.

Here is that post in a much more readable form:

 

Eulogy – John Sinks – who passed on December 29, 2029

Written on January 15th, 2020 by Dave Stafford – as a remembrance of a gentle, giving person and of an astonishing and unusual day spent in John’s company.

 

 

[Written immediately upon reading the announcement from Robert Fripp of the passing of John Sinks late on January 15, 2020:]

 

 

This is so so sad.

I have an abiding memory of an afternoon spent listening to John speak at length about RF’s then guitar system’s signal path, speaking to a group of Crafty Guitarists who had accompanied Robert to a secret recording studio in Michael Kamen‘s house in Los Angeles, CA on a very, very stormy, rainy afternoon – and while RF was laying down guitar tracks with Midge Ure (whose album he was contributing to at Ure’s request) in the main studio, outside in the studio’s anteroom, John Sinks held court to perhaps a dozen of us who were on a very short hiatus from a week-long Guitar-Craft -course-in-progress a couple of hours away outside of Los Angeles.

An unforgettable day for myself which began with suddenly meeting Midge Ure – as he and i both ran full tilt – (absolutely bolting since it was such a torrential downpour) through a blinding, stinging rain, running up Michael Kamen’s driveway to get out of the downpour…then ending up out in the studio’s anteroom, hearing both the recording session through the playback monitor as we all sat transfixed listening to John carefully and meticulously, step by step, explaining exactly how Robert’s complex stereo looping guitar system worked.

I had very little technical expertise at that time and I think I learned more about signal flow, signal routing, alternative ways of achieving audio goals – sheer genius pedalboard and rack mount design – that day, certainly more than I had ever known to that date, and possibly more than I have learned SINCE that time – it was an absolute master class in sound design, and even though I did not understand some of it, I would ask questions and John would patiently backtrack through the explanations made so far and clarify the meanings as needed.  His patience was amazing and his ability to clearly explain difficult audio or routing concepts was impressive to say the very least.

He made this somewhat specialist and possibly “dry” topic come alive and his enthusiasm was infectious – soon, almost all of us in the room were joining in with questions and observations – making it one of the most interesting and most challenging technical discussions I have ever had the pleasure of taking part in.

And what I learned just from listening to John Sinks speak about Robert Fripp’s guitar system, has helped me and inspired me when I have subsequently tackled audio technical designs of my own making – for many, many years to come and still today.

(Literally as we speak, I am designing a new guitar and synth pedalboard that I could not have made without what I learned that day from John – so his skill and knowledge is still working through my hands as I prepare my own built-from-scratch pedalboard for my upcoming live shows later in 2020 with Mach 17)…the legacy of that day and the value it had to me and for me, technically and philosophically – lives on into the future as I build this new board…

Even still today, that eye-ooening opening master tutorial on looping, guitar signal path options has stood me in great stead as a source for creative, innovative ways of routing audio signals to achieve just about any goal for your guitar sound, whether it be for a live or a studio project, and I owe a real debt of gratitude to the memory of John because in one afternoon, he imparted so much experience, expertise, skill and valuable, valuable information to myself and that small group of Crafty Guitarists who had opted to travel with RF to this rainy day Midge Ure recording session at a secret home studio in Michael Kamen’s house…

I have never forgotten that remarkable afternoon, set to the unbelievable audio backdrop of Robert Fripp playing guitar solos onto tracks for the then-next Midge Ure solo record, listening to John Sinks speak – with passion, at length – about a topic he clearly loved and knew so, so well – it changed my own perception of what a guitar system was and what it could be if one applies intelligence, logic and creative design to the process of getting a signal from a guitar – through a carefully and thoughtfully designed sound system – ultimately to the ears of the listener as beautiful looped, stereo guitar sound – an absolutely amazing experience.

I had never met John before that day – and I never encountered him again after it – but that one rainy afternoon in LA changed me and my perception o how guitar audio CAN be processed – with incredible ingenuity and undeniable creativity – if you just apply logic and patience to solving each audio or routing challenge – until you reach the point where things actually sound the way you intend them to sound – the way you “hear them” in your mind’s eye and imagination.

I went to that session with almost no experience of guitar sound design – and after just a few hours of discussion led by the amazingly knowledgeable John Sinks, I walked away with the basis for all of the audio / guitar sound design I’ve consequently done in the ensuing thirty years or so!!

That day changed everything – and thanks to John’s persistence and patience, I came away from that session with a new and exciting understanding of what is possible for the modern guitarist using technology applied with intelligence and care.

What an absolutely brilliant day that was – and sadly, I never had the opportunity to thank John for taking so much time to explain so very, very much about guitar signal processing – so I am saying it now:

“Thank you John Sinks.”

Thank you for sharing so, so much of yourself with us that day, and for giving so unselfishly of your hard-won knowledge, experience and skill that we who listened that day…might someday benefit from what we learned then – and the value of what i learned that day cannot be underestimated- it changed EVERYTHING for me…in such an incredibly good way.

The patient explanations and the generosity of spirit that moved John to share so very much of himself with a group of complete strangers – also cannot be underestimated.  What a remarkable gentleman and a great loss to all who knew him – and even those of us who only briefly encountered John – like myself.  But as in my case, that brief encounter was such a positive and uplifting experience that it was an all-encompassing, incredibly, and very practically useful for anyone pursuing the craft of playing the electric guitar well experience  …his skill and knowledge were an unexpected and truly valuable , and inspirational – input into my life.    

Thank  you,  John  Sinks.

 

And also thank you for co-composing (with Antonio de Honestis) one of the most singularly beautiful pieces of Crafty Guitar repertoire that will ever exist – the exquisite, delicate, ethereal, melodic and simply stunning one of a kind song that is “Hope”.

 

Rest now.

Post-GuitarCraft Depression? Is that a thing?

Hello again

I’m recently returned from my latest Guitar Craft adventure, working for a short week and then giving a live performance, along with 61 other “Symphony of Crafty Guitarists” guitarists, that was stratospheric in every way.

It was an incredible experience, and my first impulse was to write at length about it – which I may well do in the future, but right now, I wanted to ask a question – I am wondering if any other attendees of Guitar Craft (or, Guitar Circles, I am now beholden to say as well) courses, suffer from this (possibly imaginary) malady, not just now, but over time – across the years – which maybe I am the sole inventor of, I don’t know.

My life is pretty ordinary – I live in an ordinary town, I have an ordinary job in that ordinary town, and ordinarily, I work on music at home, with the occasional Internet collaboration, because of a disability that makes performing very difficult indeed.

So attending Guitar Craft courses, which I’ve done in a very, very intermittent way, over many, many years (since September, 1988 in fact!) is a huge, huge privilege and it’s a real highlight – a rarity, for a number of reasons:

  1. A chance to socialise with like-minded musicians and others
  2. A chance to practice Alexander techniques – great for highly strung or stressed out people (i.e. me, a lot of the time) or, do Tai Chi – and, meditate regularly, too
  3. A chance to perform with like-minded musicians and others
  4. A chance to spend one week in a very positive, very safe, very forward-looking environment
  5. It’s something enjoyed only rarely, recently, every five or six years perhaps – therefore, a huge treat for me
  6. It’s something very memorable
  7. It’s an occasion where you meet up with old friends, and renew those friendships (yes, I’m talking about you, Frank, and you, John Lovaas, and you, Ray Peck)
  8. It’s an occasion when you meet new friends, some of which, will stay so for many, many years (I’m talking about you, Pablo, and you, Jules, and you, Jamie! – you all know who you are!)
  9. It’s something very special in an otherwise very ordinary life

So when you only experience this once every five or six years, that strange, strange feeling – that people think you are a good guitarist, that people look up to you and respect your musical ability, that people want to jam with you, that people want to hang out with you – whereas, in your normal life, where there are few to no like minded musicians or people – doing any of those things is very difficult to downright impossible.

Recently then, since it’s now almost a week since the end of the course, I began to have moments where it all became a bit too much for me, and I really wished I could be back in that house, back at Koos Vorrink, in Lage Voorsche, in Holland – you just wish that the course could maybe run a bit longer, or you could somehow bring that environment back with you, and continue to live among like-minded colleagues, whom you respect, and, who respect you.

I am one of the most isolated of all Crafties, being the only Crafty guitarist in the northern part of Britain, and my disability prevents me from any chance of any regular meetings with those very few other Crafties who do reside in Britain – mostly, waaaay down south where that round yellow thing * can be sometimes seen in the sky.

Other symptoms include but are not limited to:

  • no desire to hear music of any kind
  • no desire to play or perform music of any kind
  • no desire to work on music of any kind
  • a craving for silence – silence is what I crave – silence as experienced at the course I was just on

So it can be daunting, coming back to that ordinary life, and not putting away the stack of spare strings you took with you to the course, or the gig flyer, just leaving them on your desk to remind you, to make you feel like you are still there.  Don’t get me wrong though, I am so, so glad to be home, home is where the heart is, and I truly missed home while I was away in Koos Vorrink.  I am very glad to be home, and especially glad to no longer be parted from my partner.

I am not depressed in the normal sense, I am fine, but there is an odd feeling to life now, I miss the routines of Guitar Craft, the communal feeling at meals and at other times of shared work or play – and I’ve rarely seen a course run so smoothly as this one did, the kitchen was amazing, Fernando should be crowned king and…some of those desserts – wow!  What can I say?  As a veteran of many, many Kitchen Craft courses, I know exactly what it takes to run a kitchen for a large group like this, and the hard work and intense effort that goes into it, is almost invisible when you are on the receiving end of yet another amazing dish or dessert – it’s flawless.

The quality of that performance, absolutely inspired and fed into the quality of the musical performance of October 15th, 2015 (at Koos Vorrink, Lage Voorsche, Holland) which for me, was one of the single most amazing things I have ever been a part of, in my entire life – simply astonishing.  I’ve never heard or seen anything like it before, even my original “Orchestra of Crafty Guitarists (I)” course performance in Sant Cugat, in 2009 – which was brilliant – was not quite the performance that THIS was.

And here I am now, talking about the course, rather than about my reaction(s) to the course – my recent feeling of being adrift in the ordinary world, so I will have to reign that impulse in, and not describe that amazing performance right now – that’s for another time.  At the moment, I want to say, I can remember this strange feeling from other courses – I remember after one California course, I had to go shopping in a brightly lit, clean supermarket, with very few people in it – and each time I came around the corner of an aisle, I fully expected to see one of the 75 faces that I’d just spent the last 8 days with – and inevitably, I would feel disappointed to find that it was just a stranger – I expected the face of a Crafty, maybe holding a guitar, maybe clearing away dishes, but – someone I knew.  those [however many] people on your course, become the whole universe, and when you walk out of that universe – it’s very, very odd indeed.  Disconcerting, even!

This feeling persists for days, you keep expecting to see __________ – put in the name of anyone you were just on the course with here, you expect to see that face, I expect to see Fumi coming around a corner, with that huge, huge grin on his face, always laughing, or perhaps it’s one of the Vicious Queens, intent and intense, on the way to a VQ meeting, or Fernando, worrying about the menu, but secretly, thinking about the dessert…

so – there are things that remind you – I am washing the strawberries…and I notice they are from Holland.  sigh.  I see the waffle cookies in the cupboard, which evoke every memory of Holland – too sweet, too good, too delicious to believe.

reminders, and then, going back to work, and remembering that this is my reality 99.9999 percent of the time, and Guitar Craft is some tiny, tiny minuscule part of my life – but, the impact it has, is absolutely not minuscule!  not at all.  It does stay with you, for weeks, for months, for years – and that’s both good and bad.  hopefully, I will have, perhaps, finally learned the right way to hold my pick.  I get Robert to fix it every time I see him, he fixes it, and, I get closer to the ideal, every time.  It’s progress, although it can be painfully slow progress.  But that is still preferable to nothing!  It’s an experience I wouldn’t trade for anything, I truly wouldn’t – but I just wonder if it affects other Crafties the way it sometimes affects me – it’s not so much a negative, as just a reminder of how ordinary life outside of Guitar Craft can be.  And how it makes you feel when quite suddenly, thanks to the extreme time compression of the Guitar Craft experience, you are thrust back into the ordinary world, and you start having to worry about connections and planes and trains and cabs and all that.

it’s jarring, it’s difficult to re-adjust, and after about a week, I don’t feel as if I have quite settled back into my ordinary life. Perhaps that is because I was part of an absolutely extraordinary group of people, that rehearsed and put on an absolutely extraordinary performance – probably.  Yes – that will be why.  And also knowing, that I won’t be able to take part in SOCGII – because it’s in South America, which is both a practical and a physical impossibility for me.  So that’s it – I was at the debut of the Symphony, but it’s doubtful that I will attend any future SOCG courses or circles.  It has just become too difficult, and, too geographically challenging.

sigh.  meanwhile, coming from a place of slight melancholia now – please let me know if you have experienced any post-Guitar Craft feelings of any kind, or, what other “reactions” you may have had within the first week or so after returning from a Guitar Craft or Guitar Circle course.  I’d like to compare notes, find out if others have had this kind of feeling before, upon returning to their normal life.  🙂 – whatever “normal” means, I suppose!

another sigh, then, before I go…

all the very best to everybody – thanks TEAM SOCGI, wherever you have scattered to now…

dave

* the sun