There are guitar collections… and then there was David bloody Gilmour’s.

For decades, the Pink Floyd legend surrounded himself with instruments that hadn’t merely been played on famous records — they had become part of rock history themselves.

The Black Strat. The famous #0001 Stratocaster. Guitars connected to The Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here, Animals and The Wall.

These weren’t just guitars hanging prettily on a wall.

They were working pieces of Pink Floyd history.

So when David Gilmour announced that he was auctioning more than 120 instruments from his personal collection in 2019, guitar fans collectively made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a bank manager screaming.

And Gilmour?

He was surprisingly ready to let them go.

“There’s going to be a feeling of loss but a huge sense of relief… I’ve had my time with them. I’m finding new friends now and they can move on.”

That might sound almost brutally practical for a bloke talking about instruments responsible for some of the most recognisable guitar sounds ever recorded.

But there was a bigger purpose behind it.

The auction would ultimately raise more than $21 million, with the proceeds going towards environmental charity ClientEarth.

Not bad for clearing out the guitar cupboard, eh?

🎸 THE DAY GILMOUR DECIDED TO LET ROCK HISTORY GO

The David Gilmour Guitar Collection went under the hammer at Christie’s in New York on 20 June 2019.

There were 123 lots in total.

For guitar obsessives, the catalogue was ridiculous.

Fender Stratocasters.

Telecasters.

Gibsons.

Acoustic guitars.

Lap steels.

Instruments used in studios.

Instruments taken on tour.

And guitars intimately connected with recordings that have been listened to by hundreds of millions of people.

Imagine opening someone’s guitar case and discovering half the soundtrack to modern rock music sitting inside.

That’s basically what we’re dealing with here.

But Gilmour wasn’t giving up playing.

Far from it.

The point was that he’d accumulated an enormous number of instruments throughout his career, and eventually the collection itself had become something that needed addressing.

Rather than treating every guitar as an untouchable museum exhibit, Gilmour appeared comfortable with the idea that these instruments could begin another chapter somewhere else.

He’d made his memories with them.

Now somebody else could.

And, crucially, their sale could achieve something genuinely worthwhile.

🖤 THEN THERE WAS THE BLACK STRAT

Oh yes.

That guitar.

If David Gilmour has one instrument permanently attached to his mythology, it’s the famous Black Strat.

Gilmour bought the black Fender Stratocaster in New York in 1970, and over the following decades it was modified, rebuilt, altered and played relentlessly.

It wasn’t some pristine collector’s item kept behind glass.

It was a tool.

And what a bloody tool it became.

The Black Strat became closely associated with Pink Floyd’s golden era and Gilmour’s unmistakable guitar sound.

It featured during the creation of some of the band’s most celebrated music and became particularly famous for its association with “Comfortably Numb”.

Yep.

That solo.

The one responsible for approximately 94% of guitarists closing their eyes, leaning backwards and pretending they’re standing on top of The Wall whenever it comes on.

Probably.

The Black Strat’s importance meant everyone expected serious money when it appeared at auction.

Nobody was expecting loose change.

But even by ridiculous rock memorabilia standards, things got tasty.

💰 $3.975 MILLION FOR ONE STRATOCASTER

When the hammer finally came down, the Black Strat sold for an extraordinary:

$3,975,000.

Nearly four million dollars.

For a guitar.

At the time, it smashed the auction record for the most expensive guitar ever sold.

And here’s the thing — if you’re looking purely at the materials involved, it’s obviously madness.

Wood.

Metal.

Pickups.

Strings.

Some electronics.

But that’s not what somebody was buying.

They were buying history.

They were buying an instrument connected to David Gilmour and Pink Floyd at their creative peak.

They were buying something whose sound had travelled through amplifiers, studios and stadium PA systems before eventually reaching millions upon millions of ears.

How do you put a price on that?

Apparently, about four million dollars.

😂

🔥 AND THE BLACK STRAT WASN’T THE ONLY MONSTER SALE

This wasn’t one superstar guitar surrounded by 122 forgotten instruments.

Several pieces attracted enormous interest.

Among the most famous was Gilmour’s beautiful 1954 Fender Stratocaster carrying the serial number #0001.

Despite that intriguing serial number, it wasn’t necessarily the first Stratocaster ever manufactured — guitar history is rarely that tidy.

Still, it was an extraordinary instrument.

It sold for approximately $1.8 million.

Then there was Gilmour’s 1955 Gibson Les Paul Goldtop, another gorgeous piece of guitar history.

That sold for $447,000.

And the numbers kept climbing.

Hundreds of thousands here.

Tens of thousands there.

Collectors were effectively throwing money at the stage like they’d discovered an infinite cheat code.

By the end of proceedings, the auction had generated an astonishing total.

💰 MORE THAN $21 MILLION RAISED

The collection ultimately brought in $21,490,750.

Twenty-one.

Million.

Dollars.

That’s not a guitar sale.

That’s a financial event with strings attached.

Quite literally.

🥁

Sorry.

Couldn’t resist.

More importantly, Gilmour announced that the proceeds would benefit ClientEarth, an environmental organisation using legal action to tackle environmental problems and climate change.

Suddenly the auction became about something much bigger than rock memorabilia.

These instruments had already produced music that had travelled around the planet.

Now their financial value was being used to try to protect it.

That’s a pretty remarkable second act.

🌍 GUITARS BECOMING SOMETHING BIGGER

Gilmour explained at the time that environmental issues required urgent action.

And instead of simply making a statement, he put one of the most valuable collections of celebrity-owned musical instruments ever assembled behind it.

That’s what makes the story particularly fascinating.

There would have been absolutely nothing wrong with keeping the guitars.

Plenty of musicians maintain enormous archives of instruments.

Some establish museums.

Some leave collections to their families.

Others simply keep buying guitars until their house begins resembling Guitar Center after closing time.

But Gilmour chose something different.

He recognised that the instruments had tremendous monetary value because of what he’d already done with them.

Rather than allowing that value to remain locked inside cases and storage facilities, he converted it into something useful.

That’s quite a legacy.

🎸 “I’VE HAD MY TIME WITH THEM”

Perhaps the most interesting part of the entire story is Gilmour’s attitude towards the guitars themselves.

Musicians can become incredibly attached to instruments.

And understandably so.

A guitar can be there during songwriting sessions, tours, career breakthroughs, disasters, rehearsals, arguments and those magical nights where everything somehow clicks.

After decades together, they’re more than objects.

They’re memory banks.

But Gilmour seemed remarkably philosophical about saying goodbye.

“I’ve had my time with them.”

What a line.

There’s something beautifully simple about it.

He’d played them.

Recorded with them.

Changed them.

Taken them around the world.

Made history with them.

What more could he realistically ask from a guitar?

Instead of viewing himself as their permanent owner, he seemed to regard himself almost as their temporary custodian.

Now they could move somewhere else.

🖤 THE BLACK STRAT FINDS A NEW HOME

And the Black Strat certainly found an interesting one.

The buyer was Jim Irsay, the late owner of the Indianapolis Colts and a passionate collector of music memorabilia.

Irsay assembled an extraordinary collection containing instruments and artefacts associated with some of the biggest musicians in history.

The Black Strat therefore didn’t disappear into some anonymous billionaire’s basement never to be seen again.

It became part of a much broader collection celebrating popular music history.

And considering the instrument’s importance, that feels rather appropriate.

🌈 COULD YOU REALLY SELL YOUR MOST FAMOUS GUITAR?

That’s the question, isn’t it?

Imagine being David Gilmour.

You’re standing there looking at the Black Strat.

You remember studios.

Tours.

Pink Floyd.

The Dark Side of the Moon.

Wish You Were Here.

Animals.

The Wall.

Decades of gigs.

Millions of people.

One of the most celebrated guitar careers in history.

Then someone arrives with a case and says:

“Right then, we’ll take that now.”

I’d be clinging onto the neck like a toddler refusing to leave the toy aisle.

😂🎸

But perhaps that’s exactly why Gilmour’s decision remains so interesting.

He didn’t need the physical object to validate what he’d accomplished.

The recordings still exist.

The performances still happened.

The memories remain.

And let’s face it — David Gilmour wasn’t exactly going to wake up the following morning and discover he’d run out of guitars.

🎶 A GUITAR IS SUPPOSED TO HAVE A LIFE

There’s another lovely element to Gilmour’s comment:

“They can move on.”

Musical instruments are strange objects.

A painting can hang on a wall for centuries without changing.

But guitars are built to be touched.

Played.

Sweated over.

Dropped occasionally.

Modified.

Gigged.

Loved.

Sworn at when the bloody G-string refuses to stay in tune.

They’re functional objects capable of developing histories through the people who use them.

The Black Strat’s story didn’t necessarily end when it left Gilmour’s possession.

Its David Gilmour chapter ended.

That’s different.

And what a chapter it was.

🤘 FROM PINK FLOYD TO PLANET EARTH

David Gilmour could have kept those 123 guitars forever.

Nobody would have questioned it.

He had every right to.

Instead, one of rock’s most important guitar collections was transformed into more than $21 million for an environmental cause.

That’s the bit worth remembering.

Yes, the Black Strat selling for nearly $4 million was spectacular.

Yes, guitar collectors collectively lost their minds.

Yes, the prices involved were absolutely bonkers.

But beneath all the headlines about records and millions was something surprisingly human.

Gilmour understood that possessions eventually become memories.

He’d had his adventures with these instruments.

He’d written his chapters.

He’d made the records.

He’d played the solos.

And rather than letting the guitars spend the rest of their existence gathering dust as sacred relics, he let them go.

“I’m finding new friends now and they can move on.”

Somewhere out there, you suspect another guitar was already nervously wondering what Gilmour might make it do next.

🎸😂


🎤 THE RIFF REPORT SAYS…

There are few guitarists whose instruments carry the mythology of David Gilmour’s.

The Black Strat isn’t famous because it once belonged to a celebrity.

It’s famous because of what happened when David Gilmour plugged the bloody thing in.

Those notes.

Those bends.

That sustain.

That unmistakable tone.

You could put the Black Strat into our hands and, unfortunately, Comfortably Numb would probably sound like someone dropping a toolbox down the stairs.

But in Gilmour’s hands?

Magic.

And maybe that’s ultimately the point.

The legend was never really inside the guitar.

It was inside the bloke playing it.

The guitars moved on.

The music didn’t.

And more than $21 million went towards trying to do some good along the way.

Proper job, Dave. 🤘🌍🎸

💬 OVER TO YOU, RIFFERS!

Would you have been able to sell the Black Strat if you’d created some of the greatest guitar moments in rock history with it?

Or would it be getting buried with you?

Let us know.

Proudly Welsh. Proudly Loud. Zero Apologies. 🐉🤘

Michael is the founder, editor, and chief riff wrangler behind The Riff Report, an independent Welsh rock and metal publication built by fans, for fans. With a lifelong passion for loud guitars, unforgettable live shows, and the incredible community that surrounds rock and metal, he created The Riff Report to celebrate everything that makes the scene special—from legendary headline acts and grassroots venues to rising bands that deserve to be heard. A familiar face at festivals across the UK, Michael spends much of the year covering events including Download Festival, Bloodstock Open Air, Steelhouse Festival, Firevolt, Plumpton Revival, and many more. Whether he’s battling the Welsh weather on a mountainside, surviving a weekend in a muddy campsite, or squeezed against the front barrier with thousands of fellow fans, he’s always searching for the next great story to share. As editor of The Riff Report, Michael writes festival guides, breaking news, album reviews, gig reviews, interviews, opinion pieces, nostalgia features, and behind-the-scenes stories from across the rock and metal world. His writing combines honest opinions, humour, and a genuine love for live music, bringing readers closer to the bands, festivals, venues, and people that keep the scene alive. Michael is particularly passionate about supporting independent artists, local venues, charities, and the wider UK rock and metal community. He believes every band deserves a chance to be discovered and every festival has a story worth telling. Through The Riff Report, he aims to shine a spotlight on both the biggest names in rock and the future stars waiting to break through. When he’s not writing or interviewing artists, you’ll probably find him exploring festival campsites, photographing live shows, chatting with fellow fans over a pint, or planning the next road trip in search of more riffs, bigger crowds, and unforgettable moments. Above all, Michael believes rock and metal are about more than music—they’re about community, friendship, and creating memories that last a lifetime. That’s exactly what The Riff Report exists to celebrate. Proudly Welsh. Proudly Loud. Always chasing the next great riff. 🤘