The Inspirational Buddy Holly

At lunch yesterday, Simon and I had a chat about Buddy Holly. We're both without a CD collection of the Holly. For me, it's because I've generally resisted buying a CD version of something I previously owned on vinyl. Not just because I don't want to pay twice for something, but because CD transfers - particularly in the first 10 years of the medium - were shoddy, half-baked, money-grabbing efforts which did not serve the material well.

And record companies wonder why people hate them.

But I digress. I was thinking about the Holly overnight, his shockingly short career and his enduring influence. I think there are a number of things about him that serve to inspire. First, he was a geek, wasn't he? No rock god, just a skinny guy who wore glasses. That's almost enough on its own, but of course his songs and arrangements were fantastic, too.

The key thing about his songs, I think, is their stripped-down simplicity. Easy to sing, easy to play, and, for the aspiring songwriter, like a bolt of lightning. I think it was when I realised how straightforward his songs were, and how many variations on the same theme he did, that I started writing my own.

His story is also another reason to hate the record business, and the way it harnesses the energy and talent of individuals, and then thrashes them into submission, sucking as much income out of them before they burn out, or crash and burn. There's never any long-term plan, just a need to hit as many venues as possible while they're hot, and if something terrible happens, well it sells more records.

Warmed over Buddy Holly compilations are as ubiquitous as warmed over Elvis or gently sautéed Lennon, though I guess you gotta have one. But Holly will be out of copyright soon, won't he?