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Guitar master Robin Trower makes a show of learning 
 From "Sign On San Diego" Interview - 1999 
  
 
 By James Healy 
 STAFF WRITER

 Four decades as a rock guitarist  have left Robin Trower, Mr. Bridge  of Sighs, with little to fret about. Aside from the loss of his  vintage-guitar collection, which  vanished in the 1970s ("an inside  job," he says), and some albums he  wishes had never materialized, the  British guitarist looks back over the 
 ages and practically shrugs. "I like to think about the future 
 more," he says by phone after  arriving stateside for a national tour.

 Trower, who confesses an aversion to practicing and says he's "not a very  practical person," won't even venture a guess as to how many solo albums he's  released since his 1972 departure from Procol Harum, which he'd joined as 
 guitarist in 1967.  "I honestly don't know how many. Too many, actually.  There's a few in there that I wish I hadn't made, I can tell you that -- a couple in the '80s that I wish 
 would disappear off the face of the Earth."

        The guitarist, whose 1974 album "Bridge of Sighs" 
 evoked a gush of comparisons to Jimi Hendrix (a  primary influence to this day, he admits), continues to hone his skills in a Holy Grail-like pursuit.

   "You're always learning about your  instrument. It's a never-ending task, really. I'm just  trying to move forward. Like the blues album  (1997's "Someday Blues"), which was a real 
 challenge. I feel like I progressed a long way to  get that stuff right.

 "I'm always trying to come up with something that  tickles me, anyway."

 A recent challenge for Trower, who until  "Someday Blues" was vocally silent, has been  learning to simultaneously play guitar and sing.

 It was longtime bass player James Dewar who sang on classics like "Lady  Love," "Too Rolling Stoned" and "Messin' the Blues." Although he and Dewar  were to reunite in 1983, Trower said collaboration is no longer possible. "I'm  afraid Jimmy had a stroke some years back. It's a great shame, a great loss to  the music world."  Singing, he says, "is a whole new thing I've had to learn. But I'm now a bit more 
 comfortable with it. Starting so  late in life, it's quite a trick to 
  pull it off."

     ITs also added a dimension to  his live performance, which 
 Trower says is the mainstay of his musical career.

                                          (Look for 
                                      "This Was Now," a double 
                                      live disc on V-12 Records, in 
                                      the near future, Trower says; 
                                      one disc is from a 1974 
                                      concert, the other from last 
                                      year's tour.)

    "I want to keep up on the  instrument, and performing live 
 is the best way, because I'm not a practicing player. I can't sit and practice at  home -- I find that very difficult. And it must be because I'm lazy,  fundamentally, that way.

 "But you're inspired in front of an audience, you've got to get on with it and  there's no prevarication about it."

 Back to basics Procol Harum aside, Trower almost always has played in a trio -- including a  1980s stint in BLT, which featured Jack Bruce, himself an alumnus of prototype 
 power trio Cream, on bass. Trower says he enjoys the challenge offered by a trio's somewhat tenuous  framework. "With a three-piece, you're on the edge the whole time of it 
 working and not working. Because, really, with a three-piece there is a guy  missing."

 Once spellbound by technology, Trower prefers a simpler approach today. "I  use pretty much the same pedal setup as I did then. But I had a period through  the middle '70s where I was really into effects, on albums like 'In City Dreams' 
 and 'Caravan to Midnight.' I was trying to synthesize the guitar sound into  something else, basically. But I fell out of favor with that and decided to go  more back to the basic guitar sound."  By no means does Trower shun the  modern tools or toys of his trade. But he's  careful with their use.

 "I tend to like the sound more of the old-  fashioned stuff, tape and tubes. It's more musical  sounding. It's possible to use technology, even  the most modern, as long as you keep in mind  what the possibilities are, and what you're trying 
 to get out of the sound. I prefer a mixture of the  two."

 The guitarist, whose smoldering, occasionally  mystical, blues-tinged rock was a staple of FM radio's "progressive rock" era 
 of the mid- '70s, laments the airwaves' now-distorted mission.

 "I get the impression it's not so important, artistically. It just turns into something  to sell product. It's all about the advertising people, isn't it? Whereas I  remember in the late '60s and around that period, a big part of what they were 
 doing was just putting on music that they really believed in. I don't think it's such  a cultural development thing as it used to be.

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