I started playing at nine years old. From the moment I got my hands on a battered £20 nylon-strung acoustic and a Kay's Catalogue SG copy, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my spare time.
Over the last 50 years I've made my fair share of mistakes — in practising, in gigging, in planning — and I still get the odd bout of GAS, like most guitarists (more on that below). Those mistakes are exactly why I can steer you round them.
Sorry, parents — that's Gear Acquisition Syndrome: the itch for just one more guitar. Most of us catch it sooner or later; if you never have, you're one of the lucky ones ;).
What everyone learns eventually is that gear matters — especially when you're first starting out — but as the price climbs it hits diminishing returns, like most things. That said, if that piece of kit is what makes you pick the guitar up each day, then it's worth its weight in gold.
…there, I've talked myself into it again. "Spugs — it's time for a new guitar." Yes. Again. :)
For 40 years I've gigged in bands — show tunes, through Elvis, through rock and punk, to punky, rocky show tunes. So whatever you want to play, chances are I've been there on a Saturday night, and I can show you how it's really done.
I taught guitar for a good few years in the early 2000s, and I've realised it's time to relax into it — and try to make a difference to everyone tied up in their playing. Break those bonds, and hopefully love the guitar for the rest of your life. I hold a Cert Ed. and have worked in teaching environments for decades — with people far worse than disobedient kids or grumpy adults. Yes, you guessed it: firefighters. So I know how to get the best out of the individual: teaching the songs you've asked to play, the principles that fall out of them, and a whole array of teaching tools, in my specialised teaching studio.
Fifty years ago I was well and truly stuck. A cheap guitar, no lessons, no money for them, and every record I loved spinning far too fast for my fingers to follow. So I did the only thing I could think of. I dropped my grandma's record player down to 16 RPM, and suddenly I could hear it — every note slow enough to catch, but now an entire octave lower than it was ever meant to be.
So that's how I learned it: an octave below, note by note, scribbling it all down in the dark. Then I'd walk home and transpose the whole lot back up an octave to where it actually belonged. Slow, awkward, full of wrong turns — and honestly, the making of me.
Because I only ever had three tools. A record player that changed the speed and the pitch but let me hear the fast bits. My ear. And enough energy and enthusiasm to keep going when it wasn't working. That was it. And it was enough.
Now? Now there's AI, YouTube, and my own practice tools that slow a track down, loop a bar, and ramp you back up to speed. They're brilliant — they'll help you nail the exact lick you want. But here's the thing none of them do: they won't tell you why that lick sounds good, why it's worth learning the whole song, or why building a real repertoire is what turns a collector of bits into a player. It's far too easy to flit — three bars of this song, the chorus of that one — and never truly finish anything. Believe me, having too many tools can leave you every bit as stuck as having too few.
That's why I teach the way I do. Building up a little library of licks under your fingers has its place — but it's only part of the plan. One skill at a time, learn the song all the way through, and understand what you're playing and why. I kept every mistake I ever made so I can hand you the map and save you the years I spent lost.
That's Spugs, really — our little mummy, all wrapped up and desperate to break free through music. It's exactly where I started, and exactly where a lot of you are now. So let's get you unwrapped. Get Strumified, not Mummified.
Being self-taught means I remember every wall I hit and every wrong turn I took. Mix that with decades of training people, and you get lessons designed to actually stick.
Motivation comes from playing music you love. Every lesson plan is built around a song you genuinely want to play — that's what keeps you coming back.
I draw on what really helps people progress — demonstrating everything, breaking skills apart, and playing along with you rather than just talking at you.
Learning an instrument is genuinely hard. I praise the effort, keep the pressure off, and celebrate the wins — because that's what makes people stick with it.
Spugs is our little mummy — wrapped up, a bit stuck, and desperate to break free through music. He's the face of Strumified, and he'll pop up all over the place learning right alongside you. Whenever there's something new to master, Spugs is there having a go too. Because breaking out of the bandages is what this whole thing is about: get Strumified, not Mummified.
The first chat and first lesson are free. Let's find the songs that'll set you free.
Book your free first lesson 🎸