It is hard to forget the poignancy of what is, perhaps, the greatest Christmas flick of them all. To watch It’s a Wonderful Life is to witness the power of one person in changing their world – and even the cynics among us know this isn’t just some fairy tale. Every year we contemplate these individuals in top 100 lists, to remind us that it is possible for one person to change the world, to fundamentally alter the way we live, to change existence. Though billions of humans live on this planet now, and billions have come before, the list is always short, comprised of politicians, artists, humanitarians, athletes, theologians, inventors, rulers, and even despots.
When compiling such lists, it is easy to fixate on the famous and powerful, those who stood most squarely in the spotlight of their time. And we should do so, since it is almost impossible to overstate their importance. The lives and influence of people like Einstein, Mother Theresa, Ghandi, Buddha, Moses, the Beatles, Jesus, Mohammed, Caesar, Da Vinci, Bach, Gates, Newton, Gutenberg, Beethoven, and Edison have left such wakes that we will ever drift in them.
But, with the hype that surrounds the publication of the top 100 – with all the focus on who is number one – we forget that what makes these people special is not their influence, but – like George Bailey – the reminder that all our lives matter and make a difference to someone. Instead of fixating on the “winner,” we ought to look for others to add to this inestimable roster. It sounds easy, but can there really be anyone left whose work has radically altered the direction of humanity and yet still languishes in popular obscurity?
Of course.
In fact, there are probably many such individuals, because unless fame accompanied their work and their lives, we haven’t heard of them. How could we have? Without a little luck, you won’t simply stumble upon one.
If you were going to start your own search, I’d recommend studying inventors or artists: inventors, because they worked so often in totally anonymity that it can be easy to gaze on the machination of the great and powerful Oz and look right past the shy little man standing behind the curtain; and artists, because, while their names and artifacts might be well known to us, the effects of their art trickle in the cultural river – helping steer its course – long after they have ceased to create. Both of these have creativity as their centerpiece – creativity to see or hear and then represent that which no one else perceives; creativity to think, not about what is necessary for the moment or easily observable, but to think in the present and look towards the future, to see the possibilities of what might be. That is the way the way the great artists and inventors thought. That is the way Les Paul thought.
One cannot underestimate how music, its players, writers, critics and tinkerers, changed the course of humanity’s Western society. Ancient ceremonial chants, the sacred motets of the high church, the fantastic spectacles of 19th century European opera houses, and the pulsing rhythms of jazz and blues all heralded new directions for the west. Developments like the piano, violin, symphony orchestra, and saxophone also brought new ideas and opportunities to make sounds that never been heard – yet most of these had a limited, albeit powerful, reach. The music of Asia, South America, India, and Africa were barely a blip on the radar of the Western juggernaut even well into the 19th century (and vice versa). It wasn’t until the middle of the 20th century that the different parts of the world became widely aware of other cultures’ indigenous styles.
Rock and roll was indisputably the first idiom to break down the musical walls built over millennia. It begin to unite cultures, incorporating all kinds of new sounds, spreading philosophies learned from all corners of the globe, and creating worldwide fads and phenoms and fans. Thus, we look at the great champions of pop/rock as those who ushered us into this (ahem) brave new world – names like the Beach Boys, the Stones, Hendrix, Zeppelin, Clapton, U2, Madonna, Run DMC, Michael Jackson, Nirvana, and most importantly, the Beatles.
But missing from that list is a humble man from Waukesha, WI, born Lester William Polsfuss and known to the world as Les Paul-the Wizard of Waukesha. (In the interest of full disclosure and braggadocio, Waukesha is my hometown, and my grandfather grew up on the same small block with Les.)
In the window of just about any guitar shop anywhere in the world is a curvaceous and sultry guitar with Les Paul scrolled on the top of the headstock. Of course, that’s because he invented it. And, I don’t mean just that version you see for sale. I mean he invented the modern electric guitar.
Les was a pioneer in developing the solid-body electric guitar. Unlike the amplified hollow body guitars of 1930s (the type played by Charlie Christian and others), which looked more like acoustic string instruments, this new instrument was solid wood from top to bottom. All the vibrations of the strings resonating through that wood are captured by “pickups” underneath them and cabled over to an amplifier.
At this point it would be fascinatingly tangential to get any more technical, but thanks to Wikipedia that’s not necessary. Suffice it to say that a tipping point had been reached in the history of guitar making, and subsequently, playing. Another guitar maker, Leo Fender, was almost simultaneously moving in the same direction as Paul, though Paul is most often credited as first crossing the finish line. He was simply looking for a solution to the performance problems that the instruments in common use presented. (Fortunately for everyone, Fender vs. Paul was never anything like the great AC/DC debacle – not that AC/DC – of the late 18th century.)
How would the world be different if Les Paul hadn’t ever finished that first prototype? Fender may have still developed his version, still leading to the widespread use of the solid-body guitar and the future of the sound of rock and roll (early rock was often acoustic/semi-hollow guitar- or piano-driven). But while rock may still have continued on its course, Fender’s guitar advancements were not the same as Paul’s more revolutionary technological developments.
(Side note: I would be remiss if I failed to mention that Les Paul was also a highly accomplished guitarist and musician that had dozens of chart-toppers from coast to coast that spanned two decades, with his wife, singer Mary Ford. Even at 93, Les still plays two shows a week at New York City’s Iridium Jazz Club. But his musical influence on rock and a generation of guitarists is another matter. )
Perhaps even more important to music than the digital revolution were several of Paul’s other inventions (multitrack recording, overdubbing, and other recording advancements) which he single-handedly developed. Multitracking, in brief, allows the recording of music element-by-element (i.e., track-by-track) while enabling playback of previously recorded material. Before Paul’s invention, music was recorded with all parts played at once, or not recorded at all. If any of the musicians made a mistake, the entire song would be recorded again.
These advancements – initiated by the gift of small reel-to-reel recorder from Bing Crosby – ultimately led to an eight-track reel-to-reel recording device, thereby revolutionizing the music industry and the conception of the way of recording music. Paul’s visionary mind led to the development of technology, not out of necessity, but out of great curiosity. If necessity is the mother of invention, Les Paul was an orphan.
What if Paul had simply put that reel-to-reel recorder in a closet and forgotten about it? What if, by missing that crucial moment, the entire evolution of the recording industry had been delayed by five or ten years? What if the eight-track recorder wasn’t used widely until the late 1950s? Imagine no Beach Boys, Stones, Hendrix, Zeppelin, Clapton, U2, Madonna, Run DMC, Nirvana, and maybe most shockingly, no Beatles – at least not as we know them. These artists’ widespread fame was dependent upon both the instrument and recording technology that Les Paul brought into the world. Imagine the world without even just one of these artists. Imagine how the dominoes would tumble. If you think I’m stretching this point for effect, consider this: every time anyone listens to recorded music they are listening to the creativity of Les Paul.
That’s the difference Les Paul made; in some sense, our world is the world Les Paul made.
