Not Fade Away: The Legend and Legacy of Buddy Holly
Alex Baker
The unlikely rock and roll star was the first in a long line of fabled Stratocaster players.
Among early rock and rollers, Buddy Holly was an anomaly.

Tall, bespectacled, with a gawkiness he never lived to outgrow, he was no Elvis Presley, at least in terms of dangerous sex appeal. But Holly was a true rock and roll star, the first cool geek, opening the door for generations of glasses-wearing rockers like John Lennon, Roy Orbison, Elton John, Elvis Costello and Rivers Cuomo.

He was also a trailblazing innovator whose remarkably short careerâhe spent just 18 months at the topâleft a legacy that endures to this day.

While Elvis and other stars of the era had their hits penned by professional tunesmiths, Holly wrote his own material. With his band the Crickets, he pioneered the two guitar, bass, drums and vocals format for rock bands that would be adopted by the British beat groups and is still in use today.

He was also the first high-profile rock and roller to adopt the Fender Stratocaster as his guitar of choice.

Holly got his first Strat in 1955, at Adair Music in his hometown of Lubbock, TX after his older brother Larry loaned him the money. At the time, Strats were more popular with country musicians; which may have been part of what attracted Holly to the guitar, as his fingerpicking and twangy lead style owed a debt to his country-and-western musical roots.

With his band the Crickets, Holly pioneered a distinct guitar style that deftly merged rhythm with lead, and at times, seemed to parrot his hiccupping vocals.

He used techniques like sweep pickingâusing a downward pick stroke to push through three strings and an upstroke for the fourth noteâand would muffle his strings or toggle his pickups to create the exciting dynamics that made his records leap out of the speakers.

If there was one thing that really distinguished Hollyâs playing, it was his unconventional strumming technique. He used down strokes exclusively, keeping his wrist locked to achieve the furious, driving rhythm heard on early Crickets recordings. While he was a capable soloist, he often spurned the incendiary lead style deployed by the likes of Chuck Berry in favor of rhythmic, chord-based solos like the one on âPeggy Sue.â

With his Stratocaster plugged into Magnatone Custom 280 and later a Fender Bassman, Hollyâs guitar sound was stripped down and simple. But it was louder than most at the time, with the Stratâs full sound lending itself to the chunky rhythms that drove Hollyâs recordings.

Along with his thick-framed black glasses, the Stratocaster was also an enormous component of Hollyâs image, particularly in England, where few (if any) Fender Strats had been seen before.

As Frank Allen, guitarist of the Searchers told the Independent, âWhile we were skiffling away trying to find a fourth chord, Buddy was giving us the opening bars of âThatâll Be the Day,â with unbelievable expertise and on an instrument that was the equivalent of a bullet-finned â59 Cadillac. He looked gangly and geekish with those glasses but that guitar made him unbelievably cool.â

While he was a major star at home, Holly resonated with English audiences in a way few of his contemporaries, perhaps not even Elvis, managed to do. Itâs telling that the Beatles adopted their moniker because they wanted an insect name like the Crickets, and that the Stonesâ first top 10 hit was a cover of Hollyâs âNot Fade Away.â

âListen to the songs on the first three Beatles albums,â said John Mellencamp to Rolling Stone. âTake their voices off and itâs Buddy Holly.â

Hollyâs untimely death in the plane crash that also claimed the lives of Ritchie Valens and the Big Bopperâknown colloquially as "The Day the Music Died"â was a tragedy on a great many levels. Mainly the loss to his wife, Maria Elena Santiago, who was so stricken she couldnât attend her husbandâs funeral.

But putting personal tragedy aside, itâs tantalizing to imagine what Buddy Holly might have achieved had he survived into the â60s. Rock and rollâs first real singer/songwriter/guitarist, Holly was living in Greenwich Village at the time of his death, exploring recording techniques and had spoken to his wife about opening a studio in London.

Holly was always an unlikely figure for a â50s rock star. But the â60s would seemingly have suited him. His guitar chops, songwriting ability and curiosity about the recording process suggest he wouldâve weathered the turn of the decade better than many his early rock and roll contemporaries did. He would also have looked cool with Dylan hair and Lennon specs.