The Brotherhood of Guitar Players

I seem to be becoming one of NYC’s great Langoliers, one of those mysterious yet relentless entities written of by Stephen King that arrive after each moment in time has passed, disposing of time and everything in it like garbage disposal units. Or rather, I happen upon things that the Langoliers have somehow missed after passing through. I had just come out of an employment agency, still in a suit and tie –I’m old school — and was walking down West 48th Street when I found a “painted ad” high on a building I was approaching. What used to be called the Powers Building, #723 7th Avenue, is on the northwest corner. It’s an ordinary medium-size building, nothing out of the ordinary, the kind of thing The Fountainhead‘s Peter Keating would design. There have apparently been several experiments in electrical engineering that went on early in the early 20th Century, and later the building was home to Associated Recording Studios beginning in 1961. Some of the biggest names in the biz, andPete’s habit of destroying his guitars at the end of most shows. He had to hastily repair them if they could be, or just seek out guitar shops and run up bills buying new ones. My favorite Manny’s moment of all time came on one of those day I’d cut school in the middle of the week to go stare at my candy-colored electric holy grails. I walked in and, to my shocked disbelief, Pete Townshend was standing at the back counter talking to head salesman, the truly legendary Henry Goldrich. I should point out that Henry was practically a surrogate father to me. He was not happy to see me at 2:30pm on a Wednesday. It was the first time I’d ever seen Pete anywhere other than onstage. It’s a dull-as-dirt cliche, but, I felt like I was in a dream as I floated up to Pete and Henry, just in time to hear, with my own ears, Pete ordering (and this is verbatim… my brain recorded it!)… “Give me ten Telecasters, ten Stratocasters, five Jazzmasters, five of those Corals, three Gibson Stereo 355s…” Henry,scribbling furiously, looked up and , “You really ought to try the Gibson SG Special, Pete. It’s the best buy out there.” Pete chuckled ruefully…”Okay, Henry. Spend more of my money, three of them, too, then…” [Henry was right. The Gibson SG Special was the guitar Pete would use for the entire "Tommy" era...]    Though , the owners sold the business to Sam Ash, which concentrated their music empire on both sides of West 48th Street, occupying space in several buildings, as seen in this Google Street View shot from May 2009. Sam Ash, in turn, early in 2013, leaving several empty storefronts, most of which remain empty in mid-2014. Ash’ departure once again revealed the Manny’s store signage that I discovered on West 48th…   … including the large vertical sign with the now-stopped clock.   Music isn’t dead on West 48th Street, though. , which counts U2′s The Edge as a customer, is still there and has been since 1978. Next door is . Since my father was an accordionist, playing only thebutton concertina type, he must have been familiar with this place. My father would get custom-made instruments complete with his name emblazoned on a side panel. I was unaware of this when I passed by, but Alex Carozza’s shop also contains an It’s free to the public, but an appointment must be made to see it. You never know what small fiefdom, or remains of one, will be spotted by meandering around the streets of NYC. 6/3/14