I’m not going to blather about Andres Segovia. You either know him or you don’t and if you don’t you really should.

Segovia was born before the turn of the last century (1893), and by the time cameras caught up to him, he was already well aged. He played the guitar like an extension of himself, a spiritual extension. He was, in my opinion, the first of the guitar gods.In my mind, Segovia was born old, because He’d have to have been to play the way he does. But, then again, I’ve only seen pictures of him old.

Segovia is timeless to me. I’ve purchased every CD of his that I’ve ever seen and I can listen to them over and over again without feeling a need to change the tunes.

I know it drives my 13 year old insane, but, classical music is the foundation soundtrack of my day. Most of the time, I work better when it’s on, but, sometimes, I get a little lost, shut my eyes and just drift along with the music. More often than not, it’s Segovia that sparks the trip.

Segovia died in Madrid, Spain in 1987 at the age of 94 and, as happens to me with almost all my guitar icons, I heard him for the first time shortly after his death. It’s funny to me, though, the sense of loss I feel knowing he’s not around, even though my love for his work is posthumous. But, hey, I’m like that, I guess.

I hope you enjoy him.

A second one for good measure (get it? measure? nevermind)

And a quick last one