Iva Davies is searching for his stolen Gibson Les Paul Custom "Black Beauty".
Iva Davies wants his guitar back – and he’s prepared to pay for it.
“Good money, no questions asked.”
The Icehouse singer and founding member hasn’t seen the instrument in 45 years, after it was stolen following a gig in Sydney.
“It broke my heart,” says Davies.
It was 1980 and Davies and his band Flowers (soon to be renamed Icehouse) had just recorded their debut album – also called Icehouse, though it hadn’t yet been released.
“So, we’re still playing in tiny, tiny little bars, and we were just packing up and I’d left it in a corridor – unbeknownst to me, that corridor had a dog leg on it that went out to the street,” says Davies.
“Somebody just simply walked past, looked through the glass door, and there it was, sitting, you know, 12 paces away down the corridor. So, while I was collecting more gear, it went.”
Davies credits the sound of the guitar with bolstering the success of the acclaimed album, which featured hit songs such as We Can Get Together, Icehouse and Can’t Help Myself.
He concedes it could be anywhere by now – even on our shores.
Davies thinks he bought it around 1977 from the lead guitarist of Air Supply.
“It was a late-60s or early-70s Gibson Les Paul Custom ‘Black Beauty’ – and it’s quite distinct,” says Davies, who adds its distinction was down to the long list of modifications he’d made to it.
“I now know that I shouldn’t have touched anything. They’re much more valuable when they’re totally original, just like vintage cars,” says Davies.
But in the late 70s he had a different attitude, and altered everything from the frets to the guitar strap hook – among others.
“If you go to our Facebook page, there’s actually a link to a YouTube video that we put together, talking through all the various kind of distinctive features of the horrific modifications I made to that guitar.”
Adding to the mystery of its whereabouts was a conversation Davies had with a former roadie for the band.
“It was last seen apparently by a guy who worked for us very briefly as a roadie, and he said, ‘I know where that guitar of yours is. It’s under somebody’s bed in Fairfield’. Now, that was a very long time ago,” says Davies.
With the number of modifications Davies had made to the instrument, its value is likely to be more sentimental than fiscal – but it’s priceless to Davies.
“I’d be happy to pay ‘proper money’ for it, no questions asked. If anybody has any idea, please let me know!”