Link Wray’s guitar playing embodies the dictum “less is more.”
BY JIM CAMPILONGO
WHEN I MOVED to New York City from California 21 years ago, I was frustrated by how differently I communicated in my new environs. I felt like a fish flopping around in the desert. One very difficult NYC day, I thought I’d console myself by going to Joe’s Busy Corner Deli, in Brooklyn’s Williamsburg neighborhood. Great food, no frills. “I’d like something like a meatball sandwich,” I told the guy behind the counter. Without looking up, he asked, “Do you want a meatball sandwich or do you want something like a meatball sandwich?” I was chagrined. “Yes,” I muttered, “I want exactly a meatball sandwich.” Why was the language I spoke misunderstood? And why was everyone picking on me?
Months later, as an acclimated New Yorker, I ordered a slice of pizza by holding up one finger and saying, “One.” To which the guy at the counter held up two fingers and said, “Two.” Translation: “I’d like a slice of pizza, please.” “That will be two dollars.” Finally, I was a Roman in Rome.
Twenty years later, I’m back in California, adjusting to the West Coast speaking etiquette, with its extraneous niceties and counter staff who tell me the details of their “real” lives outside their “not real” jobs.
In the geography of guitar playing, Link Wray lives in New York. He plays how a New Yorker speaks — just the facts, please. This is all evident on Rumble (1956–62), a 2023 release on the Acrobat label that contains Link Wray and the Raymen’s classic performances from the stated period. Wray’s Raymen include brothers Vernon and Doug on guitar and drums, respectively, and bassist Shorty Horton. Together, they craft a style of X-rated surf music that had its heyday in the years preceding the Beatles’ arrival in 1963.
Side one opens with the 1956 single “I Sez Baby,” a raw, Gene Vincent–style blues that offers a hint of what’s to come. It’s followed by “Rumble,” a classic whose simplicity cuts right to my heart. I’ll never tire of this track, nor of playing open D to open E. I think it’s the greatest rock instrumental ever written. Up next, “The Swag” expresses Link’s plodding, monolithic concept that simple and distorted guitar lines are best. Raising the ante, “Rawhide” finds Link
