Ritchie Blackmore is the sort of name I see on a sleeve and instantly expect sparks: born Richard Hugh Blackmore (1945), he’s an English guitarist who helped hard-rock riffing grow teeth and then politely refused to stop. His era-stamps are basically whole chapters of rock history: Deep Purple (1968–1975, 1984–1993), where the riffs got louder, sharper, and more dramatic; Rainbow (1975–1984, 1993–1997), where he leaned into melody and fantasy like it was a weapon; and Blackmore’s Night (1997–present), where the electric storm calms down into Renaissance-folk textures without losing that unmistakable Blackmore touch. I love that arc: from amp-stacks and arena thunder to lutes-and-candles vibes, like he just swapped dragons for different dragons.
"Blackmore Signature Strats" I’ve spent too many nights chasing that Blackmore chime. Fender’s Artist Series Strat is a love letter to his ‘70s obsession—Olympic White with a graduated scalloped rosewood board that makes your fingers feel like they’re floating. The electronics are pure Ritchie logic: two Seymour Duncan Quarter Pounds for the bite and a dummy middle pickup. It’s a prop, a plastic decoy for us mortals. Then there’s the Fender Japan ST72-145RB. MIJ builds have a surgical precision, keeping the ‘72 vibe alive for the obsessive collector. We hunt these like lost relics, justifying the cost because a standard neck feels one-dimensional by comparison. It’s a specialized tool for a very specific kind of madness. But then, isn't that the whole point?
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