From the first verse of “1952 Vincent Black Lightning,” you know you’re in the hands of a master storyteller. Between Richard Thompson’s sonorous brogue and his tight, evocative lyrics, he could probably sing me the ingredients on a container of orange juice and I’d be enthralled. His economy of expression is spectacular. Take the line “red hair and black leather, my favorite color scheme,” which sketches in one of the character’s physical descriptions while simultaneously providing insight into the other character’s mindset: most people would say “you look pretty,” but the motorcycle fanatic frames it in his own terms.
The song’s plot is out of a hackneyed romance, but with a uniquely British spin. The song is, in Thompson’s own words, “a simple boy meets girl story, complicated somewhat by the presence of a certain motorcycle”—the British-made Vincent Black Lightning, which was the fastest production motorcycle in the world in the late 40s. And that, I think, is what makes the song so powerful. Boy meets girl is a time-honored theme, but this song is really a love triangle: it’s boy/girl/motorcycle. By using the Black Lightning, Thompson situates a common theme in an unfamiliar setting, at least for most American listeners, who immediately think Beatles and Rolling Stones when they think about post-war Britain.
Oh, and the guitar playing. The guitar playing! Thompson is a master finger-picker, especially evident in the song’s introduction and the solo break at 1:57. I’m not actually sure how he’s able to fit so many notes in. The phrasing and note choice is vaguely Celtic, reinforcing the tune’s British character. The song’s time is ragged, speeding up and slowing down incrementally, what some musicians would regard as a sloppy mistake but in this instance gives the song a rough, straight-from-the-heart quality to it.
There’s so much more to write about this song, but you should just go listen to it.