Creativity Quote by Robin Trower

There is a quiet provocation in Robin Trower saying he doesn't feel influenced by today's guitar players. It isn't a cranky dismissal so much as a declaration of allegiance: to an era when a guitarist's identity was built from tone, phrasing, and risk, not from the endless scroll of chops. Coming out of the late-60s/70s rock ecosystem (Procol Harum, then his own Hendrix-adjacent solo work), Trower is rooted in a lineage where influence meant osmosis from a few towering figures and a lot of time alone with an amp turned up.

The subtext is about speed versus voice. Modern guitar culture, especially online, rewards technical spectacle and hyper-polished playing; the incentives push toward what is impressive in 30 seconds. Trower's music lives in the opposite tempo: long bends, sustained notes, dynamics that require patience from both player and listener. By refusing the "influenced" label, he's defending a craft ethic where you earn a sound over decades rather than adopt one through exposure.

There's also an implied critique of abundance. When everything is available, influence can become background noise instead of a transformative shock. Trower came up when discovering a player could feel like a world opening; today, guitarists are omnipresent, and the shock of the new is harder to locate.

Still, the line is less about youth bashing than about artistic insulation: a veteran preserving the internal compass that keeps his playing singular. In a culture that confuses relevance with constant updating, he's staking out a different kind of credibility: continuity.