Please email
stories and reminiscences; they will be added to commemorate Robert Quine's
career. I just wanted to say a few things. First, thanks for the Web site. Second, yesterday
I was remembering one of my dreams, just because these things come when you don't even imagine
them. I was a teen the first time I saw Quine. I was in the house of a friend of mine, watching
a video of Lou Reed, some concert. My friend told me, pay attention to the guy with sunglasses.
I did, and after that moment I couldn't forget him anymore. I started to look for information
about him. I listened to Hell, Reed, Waits - any song where he was playing, and it just came to
my mind, as a dream, I said to myself: I'd like to know this man, just to say hello to him, just
to listen him playing live. Just to play a song with him, but I guess it was too much. I felt
something from him that still today I can't explain and I still feel. Neither can I explain the
anguish I have today, after seeing the web site, and to know that he is not longer with us. For
this I just have silence, and it's not a selfish feeling I have because I couldn't make my dream
true; it is for all those who didn't know him, who didn't know that it was he, Robert, who was
playing guitar behind many extraordinary musicians. My friends and I called him el pelado,
very tenderly, as if he was an old friend of ours. He was the charismatic man that we were
looking to find on a new album of some artist to hear his guitar. I'm very sad today. I just
had to tell you this. Thanks again for creating this place where Robert will always be among
us. By the way, I couldn't tell you which is my favorite piece of his guitar playing, but what
I listen to most often is "Blind Love" by Tom Waits. Thanks, Henry I was also at that Grand Rapids gig mentioned on your site, but the date was October or November '84, and Lou was out promoting New Sensations... "I Love You Suzanne" had been a big hit that summer, so it was all over the radio like the proverbial cheap suit. I, too, remember being surprised and excited about seeing Lou in such an unlikely place - knowing I'd get to see Quine sealed the deal. As I recall, it was a midweek/school night - I'd transferred to Michigan State - but how could I pass up the chance, especially when I was only 90 minutes away? My friend Don and myself duly made the trip, while several of my fellow record geeks traveled separately. They were in the front rows, while Don and I had balcony seats. Fountain Street Church was indeed a beauitful Gothic structure, right in downtown Grand Rapids: we couldn't believe our luck at seeing Lou in this intimate setting, instead of the mammoth enormodomes a hit record might have demanded. Most folks hung out in the lobby while the support band (Swimming Pool Q's) played: naturally, there was this mad stampede when Lou and company took the stage. I'd made Lou's music (Velvets and solo) a big part of my high school years - but hearing Quine's strangled, angular brilliance put all those memories in a totally different context. Quine's feelings about that tour are pretty well-documented, but I do recall one moment that contradicts them. Just as the band was primed to do "Martial Law," they had to stop - because Lou suddenly turned to see Quine fiddling around with his amp. Quoth Lou: "As soon as Quine is ready, we will break into song." I swear that a wry grin crossed Quine's face: "Sure, try it without me! See how far it gets you!" What made Quine's playing unique was his ability to meld all those disparate influences - Jimmy Reed, free jazz, and the rock 'n' roll of his formative years - into something that sounded like nobody else. He could play as rootsy or noisy as the mood - or song - demanded, and make it work every time. This is no small point: then and now, most guitarists don't bother to delve too far back; they just go with the flow of whatever's happening because they've gotta eat, don't know themselves, or half the audience won't know, nor care... sad, but true. I hope the career retrospective comes off, so more people realize what made Quine special. Needless to say, I left that night with a totally different idea of what music was about. That was the beauty of Quine's style: it always followed its own logic. You either bought into it, or didn't - and once you've seen somebody with those qualities, you don't ever forget it. Enough said! —Ralph Heibutzki Thanks for the excellent Quine page. I discovered your page a few months before he passed and I remembered
how much I had been influenced by Quine interviews, almost more than the music. —Larry Marotta I just wanted to pass on my condolences to the Quine family and those who knew Robert. He fills a role of 'guitar hero' for me - I don't know what he would have thought about that! I don't even know a great deal about him, but I have consistently considered him one of my favourite musicians. Shortly after I started playing guitar, the Matthew Sweet album Altered Beast came out. His playing on that has slowly filtered into my style. At least I hope it has! His touch and timing seemed to be unique. I rave about him to anyone if we're talking guitarists - they invariably don't have a clue who he is! I guess the whole 'balding accountant/guitar maniac' thing is pretty cool, too; but it's the music that will last - he made so many things sound great. What a guy. Rest in peace, Robert Quine. —Matthew Douglas Quine and I were the closest of friends for 35 years, ever since we met at Washington U Law School until his death. My wife spoke with him a few weeks before his death to invite him to my surprise 60th birthday party in Berkeley, California in June. He indicated that he was seriously considering coming; the next thing we knew, he was dead. I'm a guitar player, and Quine and I formed a band called "Bruce's Farm" in St. Louis. I could tell a million stories about our adventures in the band, and in law school, but the bottom line is that we had very similar musical tastes and fed off each other while fending off the horrors of law school during the Viet Nam years. I'm a fairly conventional player, who's capable of doing "happy hour" material, while Quine was strictly a rocker in his playing (although he knew more about jazz than anyone I've known). A mutual friend of ours once said that he thought I was a "better" player, but he'd rather hear Quine play anytime. I knew exactly what he meant and wasn't offended in the least. Quine had a unique style that although not technically adept, was somehow a synthesis of all he'd picked up from Miles, Bill Evans, Fats Navarro and countless others. He could not get past the death of his dear wife Alice, and although I tried to keep his spirits up as we spoke on the phone every few weeks or so, I suspected that the end was not far off. And though I miss him terribly, I am happy in the knowledge that, in the end, Quine succeeded beyond all expectation. I attended the Velvet Underground concert with him in St. Louis (captured in The Quine Tapes) in the late 60s, and we never dreamed that someday he'd be on stage playing with Lou Reed. Nor that he would be named the 80th best guitar player in the history of rock 'n' roll by Rolling Stone. Anyone reading this is probably aware of the other milestones in his career and the esteem in which he was held by the music community. He got to where he wanted to be, and I'm thankful for that. I just can't get used to the idea that he won't be calling to tell me about his latest musical discovery (or disaster). But that's my problem. —Barry Silverblatt; Berkeley, California I don't watch mainstream media so I'm sorry about sending this belated
email regarding Robert's passing. I was just notified by my wife reading the
obit from and old time magazine from the library swap table! Anyway, I felt
compelled to pass on our experiences with Robert. Back in 1983, my girlfriend
(and wife-to-be) and myself had the great pleasure of seeing Robert perform
with Lou Reed on the Legendary Hearts tour in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Truth
be told, We were there to see Robert. We had followed his career for years
and couldn't believe the great fortune in having him fall in our laps, so to
speak, in this little backwater town. For once, we didn't have to drive to
Detroit or Chicago to see a musician of this caliber! For months we had been
building up this must-see event to our friends as the Robert Quine band
(with Lou Reed). We got front row seats in the most unlikely venue for a
show; the gothic Fountain Street Methodist Church. It was truly amazing to
see the passion and feeling being displayed by Robert being only 10 feet away
from us for the entire evening. Near the end of the show, Lou introduced everyone
in the band and when he finally got to Robert, My girlfriend and I both spontaneously
jumped up and gave him a standing ovation. Since we were in the front row, directly
in front of him and being the only 2 people in the church that did so, Robert was quite
startled and cracked a big smile at both of us. We were happy that he could see two
people that very much appreciated his creative brilliance. Our prayers go out to
the Quine family - may you all find peace at some point in the future. Robert was
a special gift to the world. —Jack and Elaine Faulkner I live in Australia, and I was well pleased when I found your site a while ago, and even more
pleased that Mr. Quine indulged his fans with Q&A. I enjoyed reading it, and I loved reading his
interviews that you linked to. I stopped by the site on Monday for the first time in a while, saw
his years of birth and death below his name, and my blood ran cold. You handled his passing very
gracefully, and I did some research on the Web and was (and am) distraught to find out what
happened. I had no idea; his death never even made the news here, so six days ago was the first
time I heard. It's devestating. I first heard Mr. Quine's name in the eighties, when a friend
mentioned that he played the lead solo on "Sweet Jane" from Lou Reed's Retro LP (I have no idea if
this is true or not). But then I heard his work on Girlfriend and subsequent Matthew Sweet LPs, an
artist my friend was very much into, and then as my knowledge of rock music increased, I heard him on Lou
Reed's work and then the Voidoids and various other LPs that he played on. His brilliant guitar playing was
enough to hook me as an admirer of his skill, but when I read interviews and articles subsequently, and his
intelligence, knowledge and wit shone through, I was extremely proud to call myself a Robert Quine fan.
Unfortunately, in Australia, it's hard to find other people who have heard of him, but so be it. The
circumstances of the tragedy of his passing, particularly in light of the loss of his wife earlier (I had
no idea about any of this until his own death), horrifies me because of the pleasure he gave me (and,
obviously, so many others) with his conversation and his playing. It's bad enough when you lose your
heroes, but the way I found out, and the fact it was so long after his death, makes me feel worse. I
found out too late to even join in the memorial activities, so this weekend I'm going to light a belated
candle, have a Jim Beam Black Label (his pick in the I-94 interview) and watch him in action on the
A Night With Lou Reed DVD. Steve, you did Mr. Quine such a great service with your site; it reflected
what my perception of his personality was, informative, honest, functional, and understated. Without it,
who would have known what he was up to? I appreciate your hosting and linking to the tributes which soften
the blow. It's nice to know that he had such an effect on so many other people, when my own circle of friends are not
familiar with him and cannot share my grief. The photos of the memorial, too, were terrific; I'm so
pleased there was a memorial there. Your site will continue to be an invaluable resource as his legend
inevitably grows after his passing, and I will continue to be a frequent visitor. Thanks for all your
work, and all the very best for the future. —Paul Golobocov We will never forget this guy. —Syd, Motosierra Mr. Quine is easily one of the most overlooked and underrated guitar players
of all time. I was deeply saddened by his untimely demise; I live about 2 hours
from NYC and I am fortunate enough to visit NYC six or seven times per year, so
I am familiar with the Quine haunts. I bought my first Kellycaster (a
Telecaster-type guitar) from Rick at Carmine Street Guitars, and I have had the
honor of speaking with Michael Carlucci about Quine, about Lou Reed,
and about the Velvets at Subterrenean Records on Cornelia Street. It was
really a privilege for me because Quine was a regular at both
establishments, and I always hoped that I would one day run into him so I could
thank him for the magic that he created on the great The Blue Mask and
Blank Generation LPs - and for turning me into an axe-nerd. I have been a
Lou Reed freak since I was 14, and one of my first records was The Blue Mask.
I was blown away by the solos on "Women", "Average Guy", and especially,
"Waves Of Fear". I knew it wasn't Lou - if I hear 1000 guitars playing at the
same time, I can always pick out Lou (the same is true of Quine) - and I wondered
who was the insane, albeit stunningly brilliant, guitar sidekick responsible for
this hybrid of beauty and rage. It was Quine, of course, and I had to find more
records of his playing; as influential as Lou was, Quine was really responsible
for sending me over the edge and entering a love affair with the Fender
Telecaster - my new rig. I went out and bought Blank Generation. Fell
in love with Quine's solos on "Betrayal Takes Two", "Liars Beware",
"Love Comes In Spurts", and the pretty rockabilly on "The Plan". My favorite Quine
solo is a tie between the solos from "Time" found on the recently released Time
anthology by Richard Hell, and the solo on "Satellite Of Love" from the DVD
A Night With Lou Reed. —T.D. Thimis I am very sorry to hear about Robert Quine passing....
—Vivienne Dick In England we have a Lottery which we all play in the vain hope of getting rich.
When - every few months - I fantasize about winning it, I always imagine what I'll
do first. Not buy a big house, or have a big holiday, but set up a record label, fly
to NY, find Robert Quine, and say "make a record, please". Now, as I belatedly
find out the news, I know I never will. But somebody ought to try. Not compiling
the well-known Reed/Sweet/Cole stuff, but intelliegently treasuring maybe live,
demo, rare, unreleased stuff. Because just ahead of Verlaine, and therefore miles
ahead of every other guitarist ever, Quine is the man. Listen to the fade-out choking
sobs of guitar on Sweet's "You Don't Love Me" and then the virginal purity of the Live In
Italy solo on "Satellite of Love", and then the best bit of guitar 'playing' ever - the
moment of inexplicable yet utterly perfect silence right in the heart of the squealing
scream of a solo in the Bottom Line "Waves of Fear", and tell me who can do more, say
more, feel more, make you feel more... the answer is no one. So someone over there
(i.e. USA/Japan) with money (Lou?), do the decent thing, and give this man the tribute
he deserves. Thanks. —Stephen, England. During the 1980s and early 90s I was involved in an
independent record label in England, called Lazy. If
remembered at all, it is as the label that The
Primitives started on. After they signed ot RCA we
then started working with other bands. First of all
Birdland, a Patti Smith/Bunnymen type thing, then I
listened to a demo by See See Rider. We released a
single and the people who did the video knew Lloyd
Cole. He was doing a tour of theatres, Hammersmith
Odeon, etc. in England and decided he wanted SSR to
support. At the time they were playing very small
venues. I was tour manager but missed the first date because I
had to finish a tour with Birdland. When I joined SSR
Stephen and Tracy from the band told me that Robert
Quine was playing guitar with Lloyd Cole. We used to
stand at the left hand side of the satge during the
tour in order to listen to him. His amp had what
seemed like a 3 sided box in front of it that
reflected the sound back to the mic behind, or it
could have been facing backwards, and we were in a
priveleged position. It sounded so beautiful. We knew
of him from the Voidoids, Lou Reed and had gone on
from that to learn about Coltrane, etc. The whole of
Lloyd's group and he himself were friendly and helpful
to us but I was too in awe to approach Robert. I saw
him around venues, and at one point he mentioned
visitng places in 1977. I waited until the last night
of the tour, in Birmingham, before I asked him to
autograph my bootleg 7" single of The Voidoids doing
"I Wanna Be Your Dog". He looked surprised and asked
me where I had got it from. It's downstairs with my
records and I'm going to go and play it after
finishing this. I have started to cry because I only
found out he died when I logged into your webised, via
one on Ralph Carney. He played some of the most beautiful guitar I ever
hope to hear in my life and.... Sorry I have to stop now as I can't stop crying and
have become incoherent. Hope I don't regret sending
this later. —Tony I'm a Japanese fan of Mr. Quine. Although I never saw him play live on stage, I met him a
few times. To my surprise, these meetings just "happened". The first time was at Matt Umanov Guitars,
when I was in NYC on vacation at the end of 1995. When I found him trying an Epiphone acoustic
guitar, I was not sure at first that "he" was my long time guitar hero (at the time, he wasn't
wearing his well-known sunglasses!). What confirmed that it was "him" was his way of doing hand
vibrato on his guitar neck - exactly the same as I had seen so many times on Lou Reed's video! To my
sudden offer of talking, he kindly had a brief chat with me, and when I asked him for some pictures
together, he held my shoulder and said: "This way, it seems like we're good friends, and aren't we?"
Leaving, I told him I was sorry for bothering him on his day off. He smiled and answered: "Oh,
it's alright, it's very rare this kind of thing happens to me!" The last time I met him was at
Subterranean Records, New Year's Eve or the day before (New Year's Eve is my birthday, and later
I noticed that the day before - December 30 - was his!) of 2001, again while visiting NYC on
vacation. To my surprise, he remembered my face and asked "Are you living in New York City? No?
Japan? Oh, you're such a busy guy". I was so happy at that time. I found a record he played on
there and asked him how it was. He answered: "Guitars are alright, because I played them all,
but..." and shrugged his shoulders. In spite of his words, I decided on buying that one, and
asked him to autograph it. He wrote: "Hello Hiro— Glad to see you again. This record is not so
good! —Thanx, Robert Quine". My impression of him is an always tender and humorous person. That
time was my first trip to NYC after 9/11. When I got off the subway at the West 4th Street station
and looked south, there were no Twin Towers anymore - what had existed naturally for so many years
was lost - I felt the sense of incongruity and loss so strong at that time. Now I'm feeling the
same - I always thought that I'd see him again and again, every time I visit NYC and walk around
the Village, and thought about what I'd like to talk to him about next.... Along with all his great
music, I won't forget those private memories. For me, a "repeat NYC visitor", he was a part of that
city. It's so huge a loss. Very sad. I pray for him and Alice, that they will meet somewhere above
again. —Hiro Nishiyama, Japan I was a law school classmate of Robert's (Washington University, 1968)
and told people this story for years: We were Vietnam era law students, many of us
probably more motivated in avoiding the draft than learning law. (It was about a year
before the draft lottery.) There was one copying machine available for law school
students, and, around finals time, usually a long line of worried students waiting to
xerox notes from more diligent students. I recall Bob running up to the front of the line,
a wild look on his face, a sheaf of papers in hand, saying he had to copy this stuff right away,
could he please cut into line? He seemed stressed; the folks at the front of the line were
sympathetic and let him in. He copied the papers, and, when someone asked him what
class it was for, he smiled and said "Class? No man. It's music!" and left. One of
my classmates graduated and opened a bar in San Francisco. I practiced law for about
five years and went on to about a dozen different careers, none of which were law. Bob
made music and got an obit in The New York Times. The rest of the class, from a
photo I saw from a recent reunion which I didn't want to attend, looked like they were
living "quiet lives of desperation". Long live Robert Quine! —Hap Freund; Santa Barbara, CA
Such a sad year for the loss of such leading beings in the world of art. Unfortunately
it hit New York the hardest this year taking Spalding, Pedro Pietri and another ultimate
inspirtation: Quine. Man, Robert touched so many people with what he expelled, mostly with
musical inspiration, but the man inspired my poetry. Very rarely will you find that muse -
that one musician who could stir your own words to such heights if only for 10 or 20 seconds.
There's always a reverse button. And with a Quine solo it was pressed excessively. Quine's
sound was the ultimate copper to carry the current of any poet's vision. He was beyond art.
Beyond poetry. And I am very glad he is so loved. —Julian Stockdale; NY, NY
It is with great sadness that I hear of Robert Quine's passing. In the 80's I used to do
public radio programs here in Adelaide, Australia and I often included Basic on my
play list, "Blank Generation" (one of my favourite singles of all time), The Blue Mask
and Live In Italy as well as the Material albums. I was fortunate to see him in this city
when on tour with Mr. Reed and I count it as one of life's privileges to have heard him live.
I'm sad there will never be another opportunity to hear him live in concert. I think I'll put
Live in Italy on now.... Thanks for the memories. RIP. —Paul Weston.
I'm a Lou Reed fan. When it came time for me to purchase The Blue Mask
from Subterranean Records and I was exposed to the subtle yet ultra-precise playing by
Robert Quine on that album, I quickly became a Robert Quine fan. I then purchased
the "Night With Lou Reed" DVD, recorded live from from The Bottom Line, February,
'83. FINALLY... I got to witness the frantic solo taken by Robert at the end of
"Waves Of Fear"... manic... tactile. There were many instances where I'd be
visiting my good friend Michael Carlucci, proprietor of the beloved, aforementioned
Subterranean Records in Greenwich Village. Oh, but how I always wanted to engage
him in conversation regarding his years with Lou Reed. I never did. I gave him his
space and observed him with excitement from afar. It was just one of those New York
experiences that was too cool to ruin by blabbering in someone's ear for an hour,
"Oh, Robert, tell me about each moment of the sessions in RCA studios...." I'm grateful
to have been exposed to Robert as well as share the same space with him for all but
a few moments. May he rest in peace and find true glory in the presence of our Lord.
—Chris Bisciello, NYC
Bob Quine was a friend of mine - I'd known him from the time I was 16
years old. The last time I saw him was October/November. I invited him to
our house for dinner after Alice's passing. I hadn't seen him for years before that -
he explained why - it was very important to him. And suddenly that night all the years
of not seeing him melted away - he was still Bob. Bob was such a sweet man and a lot of fun.
He mixed me my first martini. Once I said I didn't know anyone at a party and Bob said
sometimes a party could be the loneliest place you could be. And once I said I felt down
and he said when you feel like that get busy. We made plans to get together - soon! -
we talked on the phone - I thought I had all the time in the world. I wished I'd listened
more to some things he'd said - could I have helped? That last night we shared some of our
experiences. Bob said that he had felt the same way as I had - that sometimes when he'd
go on tour, things seemed surreal and that my experiences in what I did were surreal as well.
And yes, he was a great guitar player. I miss my friend. —Claudia Gammage
It goes without saying that Robert Quine had many followers over here
in the UK, and he will be sadly missed. I have him to thank as an inspiration
to me personally as a humble amateur guitarist, particularly his playing on
Lloyd Cole's first solo album and accompanying UK TV appearances - nobody
tortured a Strat like he did! My hearfelt condolences to his family and friends. —Steven Nicholls,
England
Just wanted to say how much Robert will be missed in the guitar world. He gave the coolest
interviews in guitar magazines, my favorite being the January 1986 Guitar Player
piece. I'm just a guy from the suburbs so I always romanticized his wonderful "New York Intellectual"
musician image as the highest form of American Cool. Brains and soul went together
in his playing. R.I.P. —Tenfingersofdoom
I see a lot of people hone on Robert Quine's prickly side when
remembering him, but my first encounter with the man was anything but tendentious.
It was some time in late 1977. I was 18, had just started college, and
was living in Lake Hopatcong in the middle of North Jersey. There was a
club in nearby Dover called the Show Place (a strip joint by day, I believe)
that hosted a lot of CBGB bands at the time - I imagine it was a pretty easy
out-of-town gig, just 45 minutes or so out of the city. I was a gawky,
geeky punk enthusiast cheering on the Voidoids. Afterwards, in a combination
of sheer fanboy enthusiasm and a vague hope of getting something quotable
for my college paper, I infiltrated the backstage area. I had long mistaken
the lack of backstage security at such shows as a token that punk was about
was a free, non-rock-star-oriented exchange of perspectives between
audiences and musicians. What a naif. Anyway, to say Hell was less than
enthusiastic about receiving me and my gushy questions was something of an
understatement. Flanked by two bottle-blondes intent on other
activities, he answered my earnest query "Why did you put a picture of Jean-Luc Godard
on the inner sleeve collage on the album?" with "I dunno, man, I just
think he's a cool guy." That was pretty much the highlight of the exchange.
Quine was a wholly different story. Soft-spoken and kind, he entertained all
my goofy queries with more than just bemused tolerance. I asked him
about the Berklee School of Music ID on the aforementioned inner-sleeve
collage (what was it with me and that inner-sleeve collage?) and he said the
only thing he learned there was how to play guitar with his pinkie. I said
that I had friends on their way to Berklee who all wanted to join Journey
(this was back, some may recall, when Journey was an all-instrumental band) and
he laughed and said when he was there the big ambition among students was
to join the Tonight Show band. So it went. He hipped me to the two
separate issuings of Coltrane's "Ascension," the early one being the big
collector's item (both takes are now on one CD set of course) and other jazz
obscurities. He was just unbelievably sweet, and it made my night.
Years and years later, after I had crossed the geeky fan Rubicon and
become a more-or-less full-fledged rock critic, I wrote a piece in the Village
Voice titled "Quine-Ola," focusing on Quine's contributions to Matthew
Sweet's Girlfriend and Lloyd Cole's Don't Get Weird On Me, Babe.
Said piece ended with my assertion, "If Jeff Beck deserves his own box set,
so does [Quine]." As it happens, a few weeks after it was published, I ran
into Quine at a little gathering in honor of Nick Tosches' Dean Martin bio.
The Quine/Tosches posse, such as it was, was in full effect (James Marshall
was also in attendance), getting quietly buzzed on Genesee Cream Ale. I was
reintroduced to Quine, who was over the moon about the piece. "Do you
think you could find a place where you could do a regular column, just about
me?" Now that he's gone, I think that the world could use that imaginary box
set more than ever. —Glenn Kenny
I'm a guitarist playing in the band called Das Boot. I'm a very very big Robert Quine fan.
I love very much his super cool guitar style. I love his work with the Voidoids, Lou Reed, Lloyd Cole, John Zorn,
Tom Waits, Mathew Sweet, Wiseblood, James White & the Blacks, Micheal Maxwell, Sion, The
Shams, They Might Be Giants, Marianne Faithfull, Dim Stars and Andre Williams! I'm so sad. Very very sad.
May his soul rest in peace! —Tetsuya Hayakawa, Tokyo
As a young composer, I discovered Robert Quine's playing in a context very different than Richard
Hell's band. I first heard him on various pieces by composer John Zorn - a couple of soundtracks
(White & Lazy and The Golden Boat) and that wonderful arrangement of "Once Upon A
Time In The West" on Zorn's The Big Gundown. Quine - along with Jody Harris, Bill Frisell,
Arto Lindsay, and Marc Ribot - changed the way I heard the electric guitar in a composed context.
It took years to find guitarists that I could work with who were familiar with the sound worlds
these guitarists were dealing with and who could work within a composed structure. When I first
heard these particular Zorn pieces, I was studying composition at a college in Columbus, Ohio.
The guitarists I knew had very pretty "straight" jazz-like tones. No one sort of bridged the
world of noise with the musicality of a "jazz" soloist. I hate to generalize and use words like
"jazz" and "straight" - but it took traveling to New Orleans and eventually New York for me to find
guitarists who could help me realize the sounds I was hearing in my head. I hope more people
listen to those works by Zorn - they have a real spark to them and offer a wealth of ideas for
the aspiring composer/arranger/musician. And Quine contributes several intense performances
in a variety of styles. —Chris Becker
My introduction to Robert Quine was the Voidoids LP Blank Generation.
You couldn't help but focus on the members of the group - they weren't the "normal"
looking rock stars of the day. Especially
Robert Quine. One evening in '77 as I walked down on the
Bowery, I walked right into Robert. I stopped so as to tell him how
much I loved his psychotic playing and how
much it reminded me of early Jeff Beck. It struck a positive chord.
Beck, Telecasters and the Velvet Underground would be three of our common links.
Only it would be some 15 years later before we would
speak again. He was to become one of my more
frequent customers throughout our 13 years of business. Again, Beck,
Telecasters and VU, only this time Robert would
introduce me to a whole other world of obscure guitarists, including Pee
Wee Crayton and Harvey Mandell - both of whom
influenced him immensely. In the last five years, Robert was to become one
of my best friends. I could tell him anything knowing
that it would not go beyond these four walls and the same with him and his
secrets. Another bond we shared were the women
in our lives. He adored my wife as much as I adored his. Alice adored
Robert. Alice and I shared a great many complaints about
how unfair these so called "Guitar" magazines were, praising all of the
Robert Quine wannabees but completely ignore Robert.
That is, of course, until he passed away - now they all wanna know, too
late. I think it was Richard Hell who once said, "Artists
should be compensated now for the notoriety they'll attain once they're
dead." Truer words were never spoken, for I can attest to that
being as bombarded as I have been with phone calls from all sorts of
journalists who somehow have found out about
Robert hanging out here and at Carmine Street Guitars. I'm going to miss
him walking down these stairs from Carmine Street.
Whether it was to see if I needed anything, complain to me about
someone or something, or just share a guitar/music
story. I am sure that I will never meet another person like Robert
again in my life. He was one of the most unique people
I have ever met: smart, intuitive and overly sensitive. A lot of people
had their opinions of Robert, I can agree with some of them, but not
all of them. He was always especially generous with me. Sadly, when Alice
passed away Robert would never be the same again. Since then, certain folks
started to tarnish his name as being difficult throughout the circle of
musicians. Others, so called "friends" he would co-hire for
sessions, would settle for less money than he was willing to accept so as to
get the gig over Robert. Alice
and a few close friends were the only stabilities left in his life,
those of us he knew he could trust, especially when the session work phone
stopped ringing. Alice's departure ripped out his soul; she took a part
of him with her. There was nothing I or anyone else could say to him
that was going to change this. He spoke about her every day, and all we could
do was listen. An alarm should have gone off
once he stopped talking about her, but then we thought, perhaps he's
getting better with the loss. He stopped coming around
as much as he did. He claimed that he was putting the word out, that he
was ready to work again, that he needed to start practicing again as he
once did for six hours per day, so he couldn't be hanging out in guitar
shops and record stores as he once did - it was time to get serious. Now I'm
not so sure that this was his plan, perhaps this was his way of
separating himself from those he loved, so as to make his departure that much
less painful both for him and us. Only the impression he made on us all
throughout the years would never make his departure that much less
unpleasant no matter how infrequently we saw him. Finally, on Monday
May 31st, early afternoon, I received a phone call from Robert reminding me to
order that Jeff Beck CD Beck-Ola with the new
bonus tracks (once again, one of our bonds). I told him, no problem,
it'll be here Friday at the latest. But the Robert I
knew would have started calling/stopping by on Wednesday to see if it
had come in yet. No phone call, not even on Thursday or D-day, Friday. I
knew something was up. Then someone else asked if we had seen or heard
from him. No one had. We had all feared
the worst, since this was not Robert's character at all. Someone we
know would have seen or heard from him. A close
friend of Robert's had the police break down his apartment door where
they found our boy with a note that read
"In Memory of Robert Quine Memorial Day 2004". A day well chosen, my
friend, for who will ever forget that day with
all the other veteran heroes? Robert was our guitar hero. He will
always be my hero for sticking to his roots and his beliefs. For Robert
dressed (white shirt, black jeans and jacket) and played (psychotic) exactly
the same as he did when I first met him in '77. I don't know many other
people who could say that. Robert, this Beck-Ola CD which has arrived
is played in memory of you. Only now I have no one to share the psychotic Beck riffs/solos
with. These are but some of the many memories I
have of Robert Quine. Because of knowing him as I did, my life will
never be the same, nor would I have it any other way.
Thank you, Robert, for being a friend. —Michael Carlucci;
Subterranean Records, NYC
Very sad news. My first exposure to Quine's work was Matthew Sweet's track "Girlfriend" - I
couldn't believe what I was hearing at first listen. His lead guitar is a leaping, flaming thread
running through the song, and I've never heard anything like it before or since. His solos pull you all
over the place in a perfect way, and are so powerful and integrated at the same time. Even more than
ten years later, whenever I hear the guitar on "Girlfriend", I'm riveted. Thanks, Adam
Just heard the sad news - used to bump into Robert at the NYC guitar shops: for him, a daily migration
from shop to shop - 48th street and Carmine/Bleecker. He mentioned that he was still practicing
multiple hours a day. Broke the ice in a Chinatown (Big Wong) take out line, trading Lou Reed
stories. Robert was a soulful player and gentleman. He will be sadly missed - so much more music
in him. —Chuck Hammer, Guitarchitecture
"I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate his
life by conscious endeavor." —Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862, American Essayist, Poet & Naturalist)
We were all very fortunate to have Bob enter our lives to whatever extent he did - a gift even just to have
come into contact with an artist of that magnitude.... Many things could be said. —Michael DuClos
I am a Robert Quine fan from Japan. Lou Reed's video A Night With Lou Reed is where I
heard him for the first time. Although it is sad, I will continue to listen to Robert's music:
Lou Reed, Tom Waits, Matthew Sweet, Richard Hell, etc. —Y. Wakisaka
I feel this sadness today, so sad. We love this one and only crazy guitar player. R.I.P. from Japan.
—Katsuyoshi Hashiguchi
I got the sad message about Robert's death while in the Alps,
and I listened to the music of Valdun, and I thought of him, wishing
that he is in a better place now and together again with his wife Alice. I
remember Robert saying: "Valdun takes away my headache" and that even
his mother liked the music on the Rumantsch album. He came
back to my mind with the strong music he played and his friendly way of
giving me compliments about my singing and the great support of his
music in NYC. It is a gift that I met him, a gift that he played on my
album, and I am always aware what a great experience it was to meet him and
play with this great guitar player. We both went together during an intermission
to the next door deli in Brooklyn and bought something to
eat. He told me that he gave his wife for her birthday a very exquisite, special guitar.
I asked him if his wife was a guitar player too, and in
his very special way he answered: "No, but it was just the most
wonderful unique guitar" and he had to get it for her. With my best regards, Corin Curschellas
Hi Bob, is it too late to say hello? I will miss your sounds and your guitar talking!
So long, Bob. —Luigi, Italy
What a tragedy. And I didn't know that Alice had passed away last
summer. I met them both in NYC some years ago. —Lily
Robert turned me on to so many amazing things and people. I met him on the street by Tower Records
in New York the first time. He was amazingly warm and gracious with his time. He answered questions
about players, music and the "biz". I've been listening to anything I can find that he played on.
He always played with heart and fire. Another time when I was searching for a decent Telecaster
at music stores in the village, he turned me on to Rick Kelly's guitars. Another great one's gone.
I'll miss his playing so much. —Duncan Cleary
I remember Robert Quine in the '60s as a bohemian fixture in St.
Louis's Central West End; always sighted with a guitar case. He was one
of a cadre of great guitarists from that place and time that, save him,
no one outside of St. Louis ever heard of: Kent Baue and Bill Potter
being two I would put up there with Quine. His band didn't play much,
if I recall. Anyone know who was in that band or if it was ever
recorded? Quine's been on my radar screen for 38 years. His signature remains,
though his body no longer reflects our signal. —Tom Lunt, Chicago
Just like to say how upset I was to hear of Robert's death ... a pure guitar genius. First became
aware of Robert through Lou Reed, but one of my favourite albums is Lloyd Cole's first solo album
and this CD would have been nothing without Robert's playing.... Very upset. —Eddie
The sadness overwhelms me.... The loss of a true innovator and probably genius in the music
world.... So much is racing through my brain ... it is impossible to say all that Robert Quine
means to me in my playing and his attitudes meant to my life.... I'll miss the Maestro.... —db
I remember being really depressed on a Saturday morning in late October 2003.
The news of Elliot Smith having committed suicide was still hanging in the air.
I had nothing to do that day and woke up early, just decided to walk around the city.
I wandered around the west village, and happened across a record store called Subterranean.
I was flipping through the MC5 records, and I overheard a conversation that was absolutely
impossible to ignore. An older gentleman was talking to what appeared to be a musical ignoramus.
I remember the older fellow saying "that was the time that I saw Screaming Jay Hawkins and Buddy
Holly on the same bill", to which the younger music fan replied "Buddy Holly is important
because he influenced the beatles, right?" Hearing that I just drifted off, centered
on the records before me. A few minutes later, the two were talking about CBGB's and I overheard the
older man saying "Yeah, we played CBGB's in 77 and we sold out three nights in a row... there was a
line around the block trying to get in." The younger man shot back with "Wow, did you ever get
to meet Blondie?" So at that point I looked over, and I realized that it was in fact Robert Quine who was talking.
I walked over and said to the younger guy "Man, haven't you ever heard of Richard Hell & the Voidoids?"
Suddenly, Robert and I were the ones talking. I told him that I was a fan of his music, and that I
really liked The Blue Mask, etc., etc. We spoke for about an hour, he went into details about
his life and the music that he had loved. Quickly though, things sort of took a downturn, when
he told me about his wife having passed away. We walked outside and went over to a guitar store.
He told me about how depressed he was; he even said that he was thinking about killing himself.
I did my best to say that he of course shouldn't, that he had a lot to live for and that
things would turn around for him. It was hard to gauge how serious he was being that a) his wife
had just died, and I didn't know him. So it was hard to tell how he would usually deal with
those sorts of things, and b) it was before noon and he had been drinking. Before we parted
I told him again to hang in there, and that he was a great musician. He told me to leave a copy of
my demo at the record store, and because I'm a jackass I never did. I kept putting it off.
When will I learn? Whatever you want to do, do it now, right now. Robert Quine is a great guitarist.
I'm glad to have met and spoken with him. I'm sorry that I don't have a better story for you,
about a time when I saw the Voidoids play, or something more along those lines. —Stephen Ericson
I hung out with Quine once at Mojo about 6 or 8 years ago. I was messing around with an old
Bigsby-equipped Telecaster and kinda liking it despite knowing that a real guitarist was
supposed to turn his nose up at such a monstrosity, what with the Bigsby ruining everything
that made the classic Tele tone: string-thru-body, 3-piece bridge, angle of
blah, blah, blah. Quine came in and, as he seemed friendly enough, I asked
him his opinion of the marriage of Tele and Bigsby. He was very
down-to-earth and told me he'd used 'em and liked 'em just fine. I almost
bought the thing on the spot figuring an endorsement from Robert Quine was
good enough for me. Then he told me he was having some dental work done which was going to
require some bone grafts. He said they were planning to use cadaver bone
and asked what I thought of it. I said it was fine as long as they didn't
harvest the bone from the cadaver of a serial killer. See, I'd seen this
movie where several people receive organs and such from the body of a serial
killer who, despite being a psychopath, had apparently been thoughtful
enough to check the "organ donor" box on his driver's license. Of course,
all the organ recipients proceed to go on murderous rampages and the doctors
involved in the surgeries act as though they couldn't have seen it coming. Yeah, right. Anyway,
from my brief encounter with Quine, I remember him as being
sort of a cross between Hubert Humphrey ("I'm as pleased as punch") and
Truman Capote. So I'm hoping we've lost all the 1970s punks we're going to lose for
quite some time and that the rest will live long into their 80s and beyond,
eh? —James Brown, legendary NYC Rock and Roll Dentist to the Stars/Guitarist/Nice Guy
Sad to hear about Robert Quine's death. I recently "released" another recording of Quine playing "Fun Time"
with the Erasers from the X Magazine benefit show
[Sharing the Groove]. —h Grape Minkoff
A year and little bit ago at MAGIC SHOP, recording studio in SOHO, NYC Robert was
in a production of Kazuyoshi Saito, overdubbing in the early afternoon. The call
was around noon and he was worried about being too sleepy and too hungry for
the session. He asked me if I can get a cup of soup from the nearest deli before playing.
As many of you know that he loved nice dishes, I thought it was my mission to get a nice one.
I was always ordering dishes for musicians every day and night for the sessions. I went to
Olives, a nice little corner place near the studio, instead of a lousy deli. Tomato soup
and a couple pieces of italian bread. He ate everything slowly and got up to go to the room
where his associates (Mr.+ Ms. EFFECTs, AMPs and GTRs) were waiting. He didn't say a thing.
He came out from the room 20 minutes later. He had a little kid-smile on him and came up
to me saying "The soup was great!" before going to have a listen to what he had just
played. He knew when he played what he liked to play on a song, or what he didn't plan to play but
sounded like his thing ... which seemed to excite him more than anything. He kept saying
"The soup was great!" I couldn't help hearing the words as "I did great!" Maybe I was
hallucinating. He was a little kid in a big body with a pair of cool sunglasses. He came up
to me at the end of that day before he headed home with Alice. He said "The soup was
great!!! Thank you." Alice was smiling next to him. So I said, "You did great!" to him and "He did
great!" to Alice. Kid-smiles on both of them!!! I finally did something more than just translating
the words for them as I worked with Quine twice through that particular Saito production!
They said many many "Thank yous" to me every day and night ... but the cup of soup was his thing.
I just thought I wanted to let his fans know. —Naomi Watanabe, Musician/Translator
I coordinated Robert for recording sessions with his Japanese
friend and musician, Kazuyoshi Saito several times. Today,
I got the call from his Japanese friend that they feel so sorry about his death.
At the same time, they feel surprised and shocked by this sudden news. —Yuki Watanabe
Years ago, we were doing another demo session for some label or another,
and we didn't have a permanent band as much as just "who was available for
whatever gig" - which was fine by me at the time. I needed a band for the
recording. I had laid down basic tracks with Lenny Kaye producing, Tony
Shanahan on bass, Joe McGinty on piano and organ and Joseph "Doggie" Hughes
on drums out at the wonderful Excello Studios in (yet to be hip)
Williamsburg. The songs were two I had just written called "She Had A Good
Heart" and "Small Town, New Semester". They needed 'something', and I had to
figure out what that was, quick. I was hanging out at Mojo's one day (a
daily occurrence then - my girlfriend would come home from work and say
"What did you do today?" "I hung out at Mojo's" "What else?" "Ummmm,
nothing, just hung out at Mojo's!" Ahhhhh, to be young and carefree!)
and I was playing some old Gretsch and butchering a solo off a Gene Vincent
record (which I still can't play) and Quine turned around and looked at me
and said "Is that 'Race With The Devil' by Gene Vincent??!!" I was almost
too ashamed to admit it. "Well, sort of!" Off we went. Talking about
music from that period when he hit paydirt with me by saying "I saw Buddy
Holly in Ohio, before he had his teeth capped." He actually SAW Buddy Holly
play. He went on to tell me he had two shrines in his house, one to James
Burton (see Elvis/Ricky Nelson/Gram Parsons/Merle Haggard, etc.) and one to
guitar great Mickey Baker. I got the nerve to say "Hey, would you be, by any
chance, interested in playing on something I'm doing right now?" (thinking:
there's noooo way). He said "Ahhhh, drop a tape off here and
I'll get back to you" (yeah, right). Well, the next day I dropped a
tape off, and that night I got a phone call, and right out of the gate,
barely past "hello" he said "Would it be alright if I played a Byrds type
thing on this one and...." In the words of Ralph Kramden: "Huminah huminah
huminah...!!!" Is it alright??? So he did it. And it was FUN. The song
he played "the Byrds thing" on was "She Had a Good Heart", and to polish the
song off, Jeff Buckley came in and did all the background vocals. It's
getting harder and harder to listen to that song with out getting a little
choked up! When I would see him after he did those songs, he would always
say "When are we gonna finish that record?" He said he wanted to play on the
whole thing! He was one of a kind. And I mean that. Robert never got over
the recent passing of his beloved wife, and now they're together again, and
he can continue to be the cantankerous pain-in-the-ass we all loved and will
remember fondly. Thanks, Bob, for all you've left us with! —Tom Clark,
Tom Clark and the High Action Boys
I saw the Voidoids at a Philadelphia punk rock club called the "Hot Club" in the late
seventies. Punk was new and a little scary so the Philly Police often raided it and
put everyone without a proper I.D. (twentyone in PA) in protective custody for a few
hours. After we were released from jail, we arrived just in time for the Voidoids set.
I was just seventeen or eighteen years old, a kid. All of the musicians on my record
albums were older than me, they were adults with jobs. I wasn't sure if I could relate
to Robert Quine, he was bald and had a beard! But man, when he played: lurching sideways
in his ripped stripped T-shirt, conjuring his guitar like Mickey Mouse's broom in
Fantasia, bringing forth music that was extraterrestrial, alive, and oh so groovy. —Philip Fleisher
I've just heard the sad news about Robert Quine, and was very saddened. I met
him in January of 2003, at a recording session in New York, when Quine played on my
album. I'm so sorry. —Kazuyoshi Saito
My heart goes out to all of Robert's friends, colleagues and family. To me - on
the other side of the globe - he was a guitarist on many of my favourite CDs, and
I will miss his music. —Jean Lindén, Åbo - Finland
Sad to know that one of world's best guitar players died. My
condolences. On our station Quine was well known and loved. He's in Rock 'n Roll
heaven now, may he play forever. —Jaap Boots, VPRO Radio, Holland
"Bandage Bait" (from Quine/Maher's Basic was the soundtrack to about
half my meditational night drives during high school and college. Something
about driving fast (too fast) at night seemed to open up the world, but never
moreso than when "Bandage Bait" played. It's a deceptively simple song, the
basic riff playing over and over, but there are these variations playing
almost subliminally underneath, like Quine and Maher are charting the whole
world. Then, only about a minute before the song ends, Quine kicks in with this solo
that takes off in a whole other direction. The song up until then has been
expansive and rich, but the solo just takes it UP. As a non-musician, I don't
have the words to describe what Quine was doing. As a writer, I can't find enough
words to describe how those moments truly felt. That he could conceive, perform, and
record such music in such a tiny space as his apartment studio is testament to his
considerable talents. Quine's presence looms large in much of the best music I've heard
throughout my life. He may have lacked the self-conscious flash and avoided the
overlong displays of virtuosity indulged in by other brilliant guitarists, but
he could hold his own against any of them. Every note he played sounded
strong, and right, and REAL. —David Robson, San Francisco
It's the night of the news, and my daughter, 14, is painting - it's an assignment for
school only she's a great painter, and she's listening to the Bootleg Series. I told her
about Robert Quine's passing, showed her the story: I also said I had the bootleg series,
volume 1. She was surprised that she didn't have all my Velvet tapes, records and CDs by
now. So many of them have disappeared into her room, with my permission, not that it
would be needed. Anyway, "Foggy Notion" is blasting away right now, audible throughout
the house. I only saw Robert Quine play a small number of times, and maybe only when he
was with Lou Reed and not in a multiplicity of circumstances, but I thought he was great
then, and I certainly hope and believe that my daughter listening right now to another of
his gifts is a fine thing. That, versus the media's shoving Ronald Reagan's alleged life
and legacy on us all - I know which course I put my chips on, when it comes to a world
of better things, now and later on. Thanks, Robert Quine. —Paul Michael Neuman
Robert Quine was one of my fave guitar players EVER. His style was so distinctively
angular and coming at you from any and all directions. His solo on "Blank Generation"
defines the genre. Get your head around that, hippies. Only the Captain's guitarists
before him can make any claim on his originality and sincerity. I hope he's found
happiness and peace. —Danny V, Detroit
I was very saddened to hear the news. I still have vivid memories of the 1st time I saw
Quine. Richard Hell & the Voidoids were opening for Patti Smith at the short-lived CBGB
Theatre on Second Ave in fall '77. After his first solo, you knew you were hearing an original,
brilliant voice on guitar. One of the greatest guitarists to come out of the NYC in those days. I
picked up the Escape LP at some little store on MacDougal Street - a basement shop - it came in a
plain white sleeve and didn't even have the album title or songs listed on the record label!
After that I had the pleasure of seeing that great band a handful of times. I also caught him with the
band Deadline, with Bill Laswell and Philip Wilson and others, where he showed off his incredible chops in
more of jazz setting. Unfortunately, having retreated to Miami in the early '80s, I missed seeing him on
stage with Lou Reed. He will be greatly missed. —Todd Ellenberg
Bob asked me to take [his portrait] in 1980 when a guitar mag needed a photo, and he always kept
a bunch of prints on hand for when he had a request. And always called
to let me know! Great guy. On my birthday 5 years ago, he helped my
wife pick out a guitar she wanted to buy me at Mojo Guitars. Blew me
away when she told me. —David Godlis
Robert Quine's guitar was the sound of downtown New York rock. There
was nobody who could play like him. I loved the way he combined melodic
twang styled country rock with experimental avant noise free jazz. His
lead guitar on Lou Reed's "Waves Of Fear" from The Blue Mask is a
brilliant example of his brilliantly controlled chaotic soloing. He was
also the coolest looking guy on that scene. I am so sad to hear about
his passing. I have a great deal of his recordings with Lou Reed,
Richard Hell and Matthew Sweet, as well as his bootleg tape box set of
live Velvet Underground. And - on cassette tape! - I have his great
instrumental album, Basic that he did with Fred Maher. I will treasure
these recordings and play them for days to come. He was a true master. —Bruce Kronenberg
Sadly it's only now after his death, that I realize what an important guitarist he was to
me. I only know his work with Lloyd Cole and some of the stuff with Lou Reed and Tom Waits.
But that is just outstanding. Especially his work on Lloyd Coles Love Story carries a
great, unique and heartmelting feeling. R.I.P. —Peter Oertl, Germany
This death saddened me so completely and took me back to a time at which music meant
so much. —John Donatich
Robert was always a tasteful and inspiring musician, as much for his
use of space and restraint as anything he chose to play. He added immensely
to any projects he worked on. Condolences to his friends and family,
and may he rest in peace. —Philip Papas
I was deeply saddened to learn of Bob Quine's death. I remember meeting him for
the first time on St. Marks Place and listening to his theories on guitars,
particularly his beloved Fenders. His enthusiasm for Mickey Baker and obscure
R&B records coupled with a deep sadness made him unforgettable. "I am the world's
finest guitarist who made only $3000 last year", was something that struck me as
tragically ironic. If only we could give the flowers to our artists while they are alive.
God bless and goodspeed, Bob. See you on the other side. —Chris Maguire, NYC
I have always considered Robert Quine my favorite guitarist. When I
first heard the Voidoids' debut album back in high school in the late 80s, I
felt that he perfectly captured the energy & intelligence of the early punk
scene (or at least my interpretation of it) within a classic rock &
roll framework - jagged, insistent & barely in control (but definitely in
control). "Blank Generation" is an undeniable classic, but all of the
tracks on the album are magic. I listened to the album over & over
again, trying to piece together the solos on my own guitar - it never quite
worked. When I discovered that he participated on Matthew Sweet's
Girlfriend album, it further cemented my opinions of Robert's status
as one of the greats of the electric guitar. I've taken pleasure in
finding him in sometimes unexpected places (Scritti Politti!!! Suzanne
Rhatigan!!! Wiseblood!!!), but it was always enlightening & inspiring
to hear his contributions. Whenever I would play a Quine track on my
radio show, I would often muse about what current projects he was working on
(often getting too deep into my musings - I think the last time I did
so, I referred to him as "Richard Quine" - that was embarrassing). I was
caught totally off-guard & shocked to hear the news of his passing. I am
really sad to know that we have lost such a great musical mind & pioneering
player. My thoughts are with the Quine circle of friends & family. RIP
—Eric J. Lawrence, host of "Dragnet" (Mon night/Tues mornings, Midnight-3AM),
89.9fm KCRW, Los Angeles
On my way to buy tickets for a reunion Rocket From the Tombs show last June, I ran into Robert
on Avenue of the Americas. I told him that he looked great and asked what he was up to which
turned out to be a Japan studio recording/music tour. He told me really appreciated hearing my
remark about him looking great. I'll miss seeing him on the streets. —Michael Fabian
I don't know you, or Robert Quine for that matter, but I feel like I know what you're feeling about now.
I wrote the following after hearing the news. My heart goes out to Robert's family and friends.
I'll be posting this at riftrock.com as well as my blog punkrockblues. Again, my sympathy for all our
loss. Damn.
I'm very deeply saddened to hear about the passing of Robert Quine. Robert's work has been a
massive inspiration to me. When I first heard Lou Reed's The Blue Mask in the mid-90s,
it was like a door had blown open; Robert and Lou Reed's performances are a master class of technique
and total abandon - mixing surf, blues, rock and roll, noise and lyrical beauty - with a real
honesty and without any false "surface". From that point on I realised that these things could
be combined and I was able to more fully develop an approach of my own. I went on to check out
Robert's other work and have never been disappointed. Robert has always made every note count
and opted to play for "the song" rather than for his ego - something that is very rare among
gifted musicians. I came across your excellent site about a year ago. I hope you will
keep it running as an archive to help more people to find out about this fine and original musician.
Thanks, David Reid (singer/songwriter/guitarist - The Contrast)
Nice of you to have taken time out to make this site up in Quine's honor of all the great work
he's done over the years, but never really widely acaimed or realized by the public. It's very
sad about Bob. He was a nice man. I sorta knew him by face through friends. We'd pass each other
in the street or places and say "Hi". It's very heartbeaking to hear the reasons why he became
so sad and decided to end his life. I hope that he went gently into wherever it is we go, or
like a poem by Keats or something, that he slid away into a dream of his own making. Take care, Deborah
Very sad. I was just looking at All Music Guide and reading their review of Lou Reed's
Live In Italy and then went to The Fall website to check in on the latest. When I read
the notice of Robert Quine's passing, I gasped. Having had the fortune to see him live with
the aforementioned Lou Reed on at least one occasion, I can't express the sadness I feel on
learning of his passing. I most recently have enjoyed his "bootleg" compilation of The Velvet
Underground. Well Robert, RIP. —Mitchell William Feldstein
I only "met" Robert Quine once. I was at Subterranean Records in the
Village and he came in and I immediately knew it was him. He was kind enough to
sign a CD for me and a friend. When I asked him for the autograph, he said,
"Well, I dunno. My hand hurts. I've been doing this all day long," without a
hint of irony. He signed both, though, and then went back to bashing Lou Reed and
Patti Smith's new guitar player/lover. Thanks, Josh
One of my very favorites.... He was only ever in town where I lived once and I missed him....
Damn.... —Colin
I love Robert's recordings on the Matthew Sweet albums. His style is
truly unique and I am a better musician and man because of his recordings. —William Halsey
Played with Bob in jam situations up in my crib several times in the early '80s;
hooked him up with someone I perceived to be his guitar soul brother, Bill Frisell, with
whom we engaged in some very jazzy collective improv on a number of occasions. Visiting your
web site made me mildly nostalgic, as we had discussed Jimmy Raney, Bill Evans and James Burton
on numerous occasions. I still have a cassette compilation he made for me of Burton's best bits
with various artists. I also have the original Fender Super Champ that Bob heard at an early '81
roll-out of the new Paul Rivera-designed Fender amps that inspired Bob to get his. Last I heard,
he had seven. He also came to visit me once in 1982 when I was working at Rolling Stone, and had just copped
a review copy of a 30th Anniversary Les Paul gold top. He took it out of the case, stood it upright,
looked it over, and gave it one backhanded strum with his nails up on the neck by the nut, made a
kind of positive grunting noise, turned to me and proclaimed, "Don't ever sell this."
At which point I hadn't even bought it. But I still have it, am looking at it now, and
think of Bob nearly every time I play it. —Chip Stern
So very sad to hear about Bob's passing - condolences to all his family and friends. I met him in
Liverpool when he was playing with Lloyd Cole some 14 years ago - we chatted for a long time before
the show, I was "interviewing" him for a local rag, but notes were forgotten and we just had a
good ol' chinwag - what a nice guy, it felt like we'd been friends for years. When the piece was
published Bob was pleased to get a copy to add to his scrapbook.... Since then I moved to NYC
and bumped into him a few times, in particular one time we met outside J&R, where among other
things he had me laughing at his lottery ticket buying system.... If there was any justice in
this world I'm sure a musician of his stature wouldn't need to enter the lottery!!!
His playing was an endless source of inspiration and just pure entertainment to me - wherever
you are, Bob, keep blasting away!!! —Paul McCormick
I was a Robert Quine fan from the first time I heard the Blank Generation album by Richard Hell
& the Voidoids. His guitar playing was fiercely beautiful, and was incredibly defined. It wasn't
until later that I discovered his work with Lou Reed, specifically on the Live in Italy record.
His work with Lloyd Cole, and Matthew Sweet continued to amaze and delight. One sunny, summer afternoon,
I was walking down St. Mark's Place. Suddenly I noticed that Robert Quine was walking towards me. He looked
the way he was supposed to, with a black blazer, slightly-wrinkled dress shirt, and his dark sunglasses.
I stopped as he approached and stuck out my hand. "Hey Robert? I just wanted to tell you how much I love
your guitar playing." Robert shook my hand and asked me if I played guitar. I told him that I did, and
mentioned that my band was playing around town. Robert was incredibly warm and responsive to all my questions
about different people he had played with. We talked for about fifteen minutes, then I let him go on his way.
I was really impressed with how down-to-earth and genuine he was. Even though Robert Quine is gone,
I'll always be thankful that he made so much beautiful music. He'll be missed. —Brent Stavig
You were one of the greatest guitar players, you will stay in my musical memory forever!!
Thanks for your music. —Thomas Haelewyn, Belgium
I only found out yesterday, when I visited Patti Smith's website and saw the notice posted there
of Robert Quine's passing. He was one of my quieter heroes, and even though I didn't know him, I feel a loss.
I met him once only, at the annual vintage guitar show in the Village. I think he might have been
a little surprised to be recognized and approached. I asked for his autograph more as a way to get
him to stop and chat for a few minutes than as a memento. He griped a lot that day: griped about
turning 50, griped about how lazy Richard Hell is, griped about the cost of good old guitars and
amps. When I told him how I liked the Dim Stars album, he dismissed it as being sloppy. Did
I come away with a sense that he was a grumpy, discontented soul? No, not really. He came
across as a genuinely nice guy who was probably a bit frustrated at getting older (as we all are),
frustrated that musical collaborators might not have the same work ethic as him, and frustrated
because collectors were putting good old guitars out of the reach of those that need them as the
tools of their craft, a craft that he took seriously and which made him think the Dim Stars record
could have been done better. I have, of course, the Voidoids records and the records that Quine
did with Lou Reed, but among the more obscure records I treasure are his collaborations with Jody
Harris and with Fred Maher, and Lester Bangs's "Let it Blurt" single. This probably could have been
more artfully expressed, but suffice it to say that there's now a void in the music world, and
I miss the presence of Robert Quine. —Bob Farace
Forget the 'Bedtime for Bonzo' that's gripping my country, this makes me unbelievably sad.
My sympathies to all close to this visionary innovator. Sincerely, Matt Tewksbury
I met him in 1983 on West 48th Street. I had been a really big fan for years and that summer I
had seen him around Times Square a great deal (I was shocked to see him in daylight).
I was on 48th Street picking up my guitar from the repair shop at We Buy Guitars and Quine was walking
towards me. He said hello and we started talking. I told him he was my guitar god, to which he replied
"Open the case and show me." I told him I wouldn't dare do that in the presence of the master.
We talked for about forty minutes, I got his autograph (which I never do) as he told me there was an
interview with him in Guitar World magazine which covered some of the questions I had asked him.
I then asked him if he would sign it if I bought a copy. Years later, I told this story to my friend Dan
McCarroll (who toured with Lloyd Cole and roomed with Quine). Dan said, "You're the guy with the autograph?"
Obviously, Quine had told him the story. I last saw him several years ago in Matt Umanov Guitars, always
in guitar shops. He was a great player and a real nice guy. A hero to me, as a lawyer and guitar player.
He will be missed for sure. Best. —Michael Ackerman
I was very sad to learn of Robert's recent passing. Please
pass my condolences and sympathies on to his family - they
will be in my thoughts and prayers. Hopefully they will be
able to take comfort in the fact that he is at peace. As a music fan and musician,
I just recently discovered Robert's music. At 28, I thought I had "heard it all" and
doubted that there was any guitar player who could "surprise
me". But sure enough, Robert did just that. The first time
I heard Blank Generation (less than a year ago), it was one
of those moments that makes you step back and re-think guitar
playing. I was equally shocked to discover that Robert was
responsible for some of the amazing guitar parts on Matthew
Sweet's Girlfriend record. I had been listening to it for
over a decade, but it was only two months ago that I actually
looked in the liner notes to see who the musicians were. Ironically, this the same week that
I finally got a copy of Blank Generation on CD. So as it turns out, Robert had
been influencing my music for more than 10 years. Robert was an excellent guitar player - but there are a lot
of technically sound guitar players in the world. Robert was
able to take the guitar in new and unchartered territory - something only a handful of
musicians ever accomplish. In my
eyes, he was a visionary. —Jerry Lardieri
As Akronites, as a member (and wife of a member of...) of Tin Huey, as
someone who's lost people so very close, both older, and unnaturally
younger... but still all losses... please accept our condolences over your family's
loss. Robert will always be remembered, and truly, if I could know now, that
because of who I am and how I express myself, I too will always be
remembered, I'd always have a little insidious smile on my face, as I'm sure Robert has
as I write this. Now, it's all about those he's left behind, so all of you do what you
can to take care of yourselves. All of our hearts are with you. —Harvey and Dolli Gold
I am sincerely sorry to hear about the passing of Robert Quine. He was probably one of the most
gifted and unique guitarists I have ever heard, and I often wished I had his facility on the guitar.
My heart goes out to his family and friends. —Mark Saucier
His brilliance will be sorely missed. My deepest sympathy. —Jeff Sohn
Mr. Quine's music was human and emotional. In his hands an electric guitar was capable of anything.
He will be missed and his recorded legacy will be held in high regard. Sincerely, Blaine Schultz
Please accept my sincere condolences at the passing of Robert Quine.
While I never met the man, I was a great admirer of his music, which was deeply
eloquent. Mr. Quine created some beautiful, challenging and lasting
work that will doubtless keep his name and memory alive for many years to
come. Sincerely, Mark Deming; Ann Arbor, Michigan
The news of Mr. Quine's passing is very saddening. I have been a big
fan of his since the 70s and would like to send my condolences to his
family and friends. He was an extremaly gifted musician and as important a
guitarist as any who have walked the earth. I'm not kidding. Mr.
Quine played with such talent and sensitivity as to make one get goosebumps
at the sound of his first note on a given song. He made the musicians he
supported sound like they themselves were brilliant (Hell, Reed), but,
really, it was Mr. Quine who was the star in my eyes. The world has
lost a guitar legend. I am deeply saddened. —George Faulkner
Dear Family and Friends of Robert Quine, I am very sorry to hear of your loss. Please accept my
deepest sympathy and condolences. Robert Quine was much appreciated for his
strongly personal approach to guitar playing and contributions to many classic
records. Respectfully, Chris Ghiardi
I'd like to express my deepest condolences to Robert Quine's family. I don't know him personally,
never saw him perform live, but I deeply enjoy a lot of recordings he's made in the past.
I wish the family lots of courage in dealing with this loss. —Willem Huisman, the Netherlands
It saddens me that such a fine person, as well as a talented and respected guitar player is
gone. I'm truly sorry for your loss. Take comfort in your memories and know that he is with his beloved wife
again. —Ed Davis; Flint, Michigan
I have heard the terrible news. I'll miss him a hell of a lot. —Eric Veillette
I would like to express my condolences for the big loss of Mr. Robert Quine. I had the chance to meet him 20 years ago in Milan.
It is a very sad day. —Aldo Santini, Italy
Rest in Peace. The world lost a great guitar player. —Sven Behrens; Hamburg, Germany
I would like to extend my deepest sympathies to Robert's family and friends. I really loved Robert's
guitar playing; I always thought he was a very underrated musician. There aren't many players who combine
passionate punk sensibilities with precision and a style that is truly their own. His work with Lou Reed
is very special - one of my favourite albums is Legendary Hearts. His playing has an economy and a class that
is unusual in the rock world. As a Velvet Underground fan I was overjoyed with his release of The Quine Tapes,
and this testament to his passion for music and sharing it amongst fellow fans will survive forever.
See ya, Robert. —Gavin Roberts
Robert Quine made me want to play guitar. I heard The Blue Mask as a kid and was gone. He had style.
He played with great passion. A perfect balance between control and abandon. Beauty and aggression. He's
one of the great unsung muscians. My sympathy goes out to his family and friends. —Ben Michael
(guitarist for The Sand Pebbles)
Terrible and sad news. I knew Bob from our mutual days at Mojo Guitar
Shop. Bob was always showing me cool things and encouraging my playing as
well as making me crack up. I am going to miss him. —Jason (Jay) Braun
I am so devastated. I spent many a day with Bob at Carmine Street Guitars. He taught me so much. —EvHarperNY
I did not know Robert personally, but I saw him play live and heard him on records since I was fifteen.
I'm one of those kids who grew up at CBGB and Max's Kansas City, one of those kids whose heroes were in
bands, whose friends and lovers were in bands, whose lives revolved around music - so naturally Robert
was one of the gods in my NYC rock pantheon. Guys in my school tried to play like him - I can't think
of how many bands in NYC and beyond have been influenced by him one way or another. I love the fact that
over the years Robert never stopped, never grew out of rock'n'roll, but continued to be a part of the
scene and keep playing. Instead of becoming distant or an ol' fuddy-duddy, he kept playing to newer, younger
audiences. Please tell the people who knew and loved him best that there are folks like me who, even though I didn't
know him to speak to, still considered him with warmth and love as a part of my greater family, and who
miss him and grieve for him and mourn his loss. P.S.: I just realised I have something in common with Robert in that we both played with Tom Clark, except
I only sang backing vocals for Tom at a Loser's Lounge Easter show.... All my deepest sympathy and respect, Alison Harvey
I know Bob was not the easiest guy to get along with, but I was very
happy to count him as one of my closest friends and it was a joy to work with
him. With sadness, yours, Lloyd Cole
I know of Robert Quine through his work with Matthew Sweet and a few
others - he was an amazing guitarist. Musicians have a special place in
heaven. Peace to him and you, Missy
Quine played on a track on my CD and it was a pleasure having him come
into the studio. His solo is one of the highlights of my record, and
the snarky stories he told in his dry way were priceless and
memorable. My condolences to his family and friends. I was glad to have the
chance to meet him. With sympathy, Lys Guillorn
I never met the man but he was one of my favorite guitarists!! What a horrible loss. —Mykel
Quine was one of the greats - very very sad. —James Wheeler
Such a tragic loss. His guitar work brought me much enjoyment and I thank him for giving me
something I can forever listen to with great pleasure. —Chris O'D
Robert
Quine
1942 - 2004
On Sunday as I was reading the Boston Globe I was shocked to see the terrible news of Robert's death.
My 11 year old son was sitting with me waiting for his baseball practice when I read the news and
as I gasped he asked me what was wrong. I explained that one of my heroes had passed away and it
caught me by surprise. As he questioned me further I described the first time that I had witnessed
Robert's unique blend of passion and taste at a Lou Reed concert in the early 80s and how that had
sparked my interest in his overall work, especially with the Voidoids. At that point my son said
that he could play the opening chords of "Blank Generation" on the acoustic guitar that he had
received for his birthday six months ago. To be honest, I smiled and nodded knowing that the White Stripes and Nirvana were his favorites and that remembering the chords to a song that
he had heard in passing a few times at best was a remote possibility. When we returned home that
evening my son immediately grabbed his guitar and proceeded to play the opening to "Blank Generation"
as if he had been practicing it for weeks. It was then that I realized that the spirit and unique
musicianship of Robert Quine was not lost and I promised myself to expose him to as much of Robert's
music as I could, from Matthew Sweet to Lou Reed to the Voidoids and everything in between.
Who knows, maybe someday people will ask "Wow, how did such a brilliant guitarist come out of
New Hampshire?" as thay did when Robert came up from Ohio. Thanks, Bill Norton
ROBERT QUINE: 1942-2004
A friend just emailed me the link to CNN's story regarding Robert Quine's suicide and, even though I
never knew the man personally, I feel as if I've lost a brother. Robert Quine, guitarist extraordinaire,
founding member of Richard Hell & the Voidoids, and thus an inventor of what we now call Punk Rock, the
best foil that Lou Reed ever fired (and he fires them all, you ever notice that?) put a needle in his arm
for the last time, apparently on May 31st, despondent over the recent death of his wife. I first saw Quine
with the Voidoids at CBGB in the 70s and, while I failed (and honestly still fail, sorry Lester) to understand
the appeal of Hell's overblown death-wish bleating, I was instantly turned around by the stark angularity
and full blown anger that emanated from Quine's black Stratocaster. His guitar work veered from blistering
rockabillyisms to nails down the blackboard shrieks of divinely inspired atonality. Some people speak of
guitarists who can play like ringing a bell, Robert Quine played a guitar just like a-wringing a neck.
Beauty, horror, comedy, tragedy, insanity, wisdom and the best kind of stupidity, the kind of stupidity
that moves a young man to quit Law School to play punk rock, as Quine did in NYC, 1974, were all present
in the man's music. Quine had an encyclopedic knowledge of all rock guitar and rather than exploit his
knowledge as a curator or stylistic archivist, he blended it all, James Burton through John Coltrane,
into a startling and original guitar sound, free of cliche and of a boundless reach and grasp. That he is
perhaps best known for The Quine Tapes, the 2001 3 CD set of late 60s Velvet Underground shows he
bootlegged goes to the criminally unsung nature of the man and his music. It also shows his love and
respect for his music's past. He had recorded these shows for his own entertainment and decided to make
them available for all. I'm sure that there was an element of "rent's due" to the whole project, but I
believe there was a purer motive involved as well. Although basically treated like shit by Lou Reed, his
work on 1983's Legendary Hearts undermixed to the point of near non-existence by the Famous Death Dwarf
himself, Quine still found it in himself to honor his former employer's days of greatness by sharing his
tapes with the world. But Robert Quine was so much more than a sideman, he was an artist who never stopped
exploring, never stopped stretching boundaries, never stopped growing as a guitarist. His playing on records
by artists as diverse as Lydia Lunch, Tom Waits, Marianne Faithful, Lloyd Cole, Matthew Sweet, John Zorn,
They Might Be Giants, Michael DuClos, etc. shows a breadth and depth of style and intent as to shame many so
called luminaries of the instrument. But, in the end, none of this proved to be enough to save the man's
life. Despondency and heroin have taken another great from our midst. Fuck them both. Fuck the idea that
suicide is romantic. Fuck the idea that drugs are cool. Fuck the idea of cool. Right now I miss a friend
I have never met. Right now I am sad and angry. Right now I mourn for more than the loss of a picture on
a CD sleeve. I mourn for us all, for we have all just had our lives diminished, whether we know it or not.
Rest easy, brother, I hope you've found what you were looking for. Me, I'm gonna keep looking.
Tim Byrnes
