A Consumer’s Guide To GUITAR HEROES

The guitar has always had its own special niche in the hierarchy of blammo. When you picture a rock ’n’ roll group, who do you think of first. The goalie? Nah, it’s the guitar tamer, his holy instrument slung extra low on his hip like a fetus gunfighter and the same serene expression on his face as a rock critic with a dollar.

These six-string silverfish have their own pecking order, their own cliques and even their own magazine. Have you ever seen a copy of Xylophone Player? Koto Notes? Or a good rock ’n’ roll band without a guitarist? (There are fourteen worldwide and they all stink.) Not to mention the phallic possibilities, which I wouldn’t touch with a ten foot strip of Sizzlean. I mean, bottleneck guitar? Kee-rist!

The strumbag’s sometimes negligible contribution to the overall noise is commonly overrated, but what can you do? Both in sound and image, the guitar is rock ’n’ roll. It’s not music we’re talking about here—this is sex, this is re//gion/The rhythm section may be the power behind the throne, but only the guitar player gets to hump the princess.

Traditionally the province of apprentice adolescents (regardless of age or sex) the whole caboodle has become a coming-ofage ritual without antlers or jumping off cliffs. Whether they’re actual participants of just those goofy guys in the crowd who play inaudible solos on invisible guitars, it piles up enough macho points to temporarily assuage their worries about chest hair and crotch rot. Listen, it could be worse. What if they collected sidewalks or dead nuns?

Just what is a guitar hero (hereafter referred to as G.H.)? Is it anything like a roller derby star? The president of an electronic realtors association? Someone who regularly bowls over 192?

Not exactly. A G.H. is more like a cop, except that people give him money to shoot them. As as with most occupations, it’s not how you perform, it’s how you look.

Onstage posture is the single most important skill the budding G.H. must learn. His knees have to be as flexible as a soft layette frame so that he can move from Electrocution Staggers to Duckwalk to Just A Big Violin to Boner Silhouette to Charging Penalty, all in eight bars.

Facial expression runs a close second. Although the only people that can see your loving puss are the first nine rows, they do, after all, contain the most important members of the audience: the hardcore faithful, the guitar groupies and the munitions team, who stand a pretty good shot at you. that close up. Oh yeah, the critics too, most of whom are standing on their seats trying to show off their new net socks.

Depending on just how the G.H. wants to come off at any given tweedle. there are certain standard expressions to call on: My strings are so clean I can see my face! Inside lam watching Brady Bunch. I wonder what I’m earning per chord? This isn’t Brisbane! I should hav& put my watch on the other way. Plus till tuffy—Aw shit! I coulda had a V-8!

Is it advantageous to have one of these fretboard fools in your band? Who knows? This debate has been going on as long as the who-makes-the-best-Tammy (Debbie Reynolds? Sandra Dee? Mrs. Preston Gomez?) controversy. On the one hand, the G.H. attracts the spenders and the pudendoids, but he’ll also hog the spotlight and distract ihe fans from the really important stuff, like popsicle fog, what kind of cymbals the drummer uses and the number of run nets on base.

The resulting unevenness of reporting and publicity splits groups just like the presence of a free agent superstar on your corn-shucking crew will cause dissension and jealousy among the other shuckers. After all, how would you like to be a second guitarist in the Pat Travers Group? About as much fun as counting the walls, right?

Fun or no fun (or No Fun) as the case may be, lets hover on down for a closer scan the Planet of Guitar Heroes, the better to seee them Hey—it’s better than listening to ’em!

THECREEM READERS'TOP TEN

1. EDWARD VAN HALEN-They say we’re young and we don’t know! Ha! Dutchie’s concoction of paranoid electrons, telepathic doorbells, reversed soundtracks of tapdance flicks and clattering charm bracelets from the Forge of PoPeel earned him the top spot this year, finally knocking off ol’ debbil-breath. Ed’s got balls enough to say You Call This Lunch?to Ted Nugent, and he’ll remain kingpin of Feedback Nation as the others fade away.

2. JIMMY PAGE—Speak of the devil! Mr. kneejerk hoodoo himself was finally kicked off the top of the heap after dominating the division since 1973. Now that the fans are wising up to his brand of megadiddley, sitting still through an entire wash cycle of Jimmy’s weeniefingers will be as painful to them as re-evaluating the Buzzcocks.

3. PETE TOWNSHEND-Though personally reminiscent of hypnofascists like Carl Sagan and Mr. Rogers, ol’ nozzle-nose still retains much of his superb ear-to-heart coordination. Did You Know?: Snagglesnoot went to Woodstock to see the art exhibition.

4. RICK NIELSEN-Having dropped the shoe-tree melodics and returned to the power chords from whence he sprang. Rick's in line to become the next Pete Townshend, who was his original inspiration anyway. Just what we need! Well, either that or a cure for minor jewelry rash.

5.MICK JONES (Clash)-Definitely not a devotee to what Dr. Meltzer calls “the merry-go-round tirades of utter mere pleasantness,” Mick’s pick detrius can solve certain crimes and help to soothe all twelve cold symptoms.

6.KEITH RICHARDS-Crafty grappler in a perpetual grudge match with himself, Keith is a textbook example of the D.G. (Deeee-Generate) musician. He’s also the perfect master of physical diplomatic immunity and so rich, he doesn’t even care if his teeth are rotten!

7.BRIAN MAY—The ideal specimen of Genotype Cointoss. With all the squeaking and rattling going on in Queen albums, you need a geologist’s Null Indicator to register any guitar. I would like to see some of his fingers cast in a spinoff hand.

8. ANGUS YOUNG—Known throughout bizdom as The Blunder From Down Under, the angry baby’s only stage move is imitating a bronze pelican squatting on a diving rod. However, it should be noted that “Legs” and his crew have sold more LPs in the U.K. than Slim Whitman!

9. JEFF BECK—One of the many cohosts on hand at the birth of feedback, Beck’s legendary appearance with the Yardbirds in Blow-Up is still talked about. Says Jeff: “I had a fucking hard-on, man! I took my mother to see it and there you were... this horrible sinister thing hanging down the side of the screen.”

10. ROBERT FRIPP-The eggheads who read CREEM (all eight of ’em) voted unanimously for the Fripper and he edged out Debbie Watson for the number 10 slot. Personally speaking, I wish that his fingers could reach an out-of-court settlement with the rest of his hand.

TEN LITTLE INDIANS

1.BUCK DHARMA (BOC)-Even though Blue Oyster Cult’s records are getting progressively worse, Buck sniffs out the available airspace and dodges through it with suicidal swoops and dives that make your insides feel like dindin took the scenic route.

2. CARLOS SANTANA-Wherever Carlos and his little prayerlings appear, he first has to register his hands with the police as deadly yawn concealers. His often pointless scale-chasing reminds me of that Scrap Happy kit they advertise on Channel Ronco that shows you how to create useless-but-craftsy icons out of your household scraps. What next, Shit Happy?

3. BRIAN ROBERTSON, GARY MOORE,SNOWY WHITE, etc. (Thin Lizzy)—Twin lead guitars are awful gimmicky, but this two strainer household kicks the Double Jeopardy out of any similar line-up, particularly those of the hog persuasion. To keep interest up, they change guitarists every ten days or so. Result: you never know what those unpredictable newlyweds are gonna play.

LEAVE US ALONE

* JERRY GARCIA—the man who taught John Cippolina how to rip off Carlos Santana (or vice-versa) is finally being recognized as the overgrown fern he is. A frond indeed.

'NEIL YOUNG-Why did anybody ever think he was good, that’s my question. Young’s 3 BTU musicianship is about as easy to swallow as the Enquirer’s latest SPONGE SUES WOMAN headline.

'TODDRUNDGREN-His newest LP contains the most compelling performance by a cartoon character since Casper played Burpo The Fire Eater. His brain wouldn’t even make a good salad.

*ERIC CLAPTON—The only thing that could possibly be more beneficial to contemporary music than dropping a safe on Roy Thomas Baker would be going back in time to the dreaded studio confab where Clapton, George Harrison and George Martin invented that revoltingly saccharin guitar sound that infects virtually every record today and trimming their cuticles with a lawnmower.

Good Riddance: Dickie Betts, Alvin Lee, Robin Trower, Ronnie Montrose, Boxcar Willie, Rick Derringer, Dave Davies, Jorma Kaukonen, George Benson, Leo Kottke, Les Dudek, Ritchie Blackmore and Frank Zappa.

4. ALEX LIFESON (Rush)-If this guy was a cartoon character, he’d be Pepe LePew. Still, the big solo segment brings the fans crawling stageward like entire phylums of elongated marine worms.

5. NANCY WILSON (Heart)-It is now apparent that certain States of the Union should be sold or given outright to Canada pronto, because that’s where they belong. As any schoolchild knows, these states are Oregon, Montana, Wyoming, Utah (Utah, how deliciously decadent!), both Dakotas and the Northern half of Michigan. Also Seattle and Portland. California should be sent back to Africa, where it belongs.

6. K.K. DOWNING and GLENN TIPTON (Judas Priest)—Bob Hope summed up the reaction to these turkeys better than I ever could when he asked, “Why should you go through life with your head the same shape all the time?”

7. TED NUGENT-Mr. Terrible’s beefaloflavored bits are as deadly as a boxcar full of Wee Stinky Fly Traps (1.5 oz. size). With his producer generally asleep-at-the-Pause, Ted’s records are just like a game of Carnival Ears. You know, listen to these riffs and guess their weight.

8. PAT TRAVERS—Pat’s the one who started the fad of handing out cardboard guitars to the play-along chumps in the audience. Too bad Pat’s not cardboard himself. What, he is? How can anyone tell?

9. ELLIOT EASTON (Cars)-TV’s beloved Cold Air Crook takes on cloistered sap eaters from Inner Earth. Results next week.

10. ANDY SUMMERS (Police)-Although his pederastic hybrid of rock ’n’ reggae seemed as bizarre a concept as “Happy” Hour as first, he’s now in the position to give the entire music industry an Indian burn. It hurts, too!

BUBBLING UNDER

* SKUNK BAXTER-He may be the best know studio picker since Itchy Brother, but this polecat hasn’t even made his move yet. He wants to fully enjoy the pleasure of hiring all the Doobs and Dans he used to record with when he’s bigger than all of them.

* POISON |VY and BRYAN GREGORY (Cramps)—Surfabilly’s best tag team may be splitting up. Rumor has it the frankly horrifying Gregory has left to join a devil cult in L.A..Good luck, Bry, and don’t come back.

* GEORGE THOROGOOD-TV again: A beaver walks into a hardware store and says, “Can I see the new McCulloch chainsaw?” “But,” blurts the clerk, “you’re a beaver!” For fifteen points, contrast and compare guitar/chainsaw and Thorogood/ beaver. Time’s up!

* JOE PERRY—Trying to picture this Mr. Goodwrench with a new, not particularly unAerosmithy alignment is as difficult as accepting the actress who plays Mother Nature in a static cling ad instead. Sorry, Joe, but no more LPs until you’ve read The Farrah Fawcett Story, now available in flash cards.

'BRUCE ANDERSON (MX-80 Sound) —What are the two hardest-to-say words in the English Language? I’m pregnant? What money? Love Boat? Rover’s Dead? Nope, they’re Bruce Anderson, current record holder of the Talent vs. Exposure Ratio for guitarists. His magnetic brew of buzzing swivel aerators, electric stalk-shots and impressions of ant dreams is guaranteed to stub the toes of your ears.

AWOL: Rory Gallagher, Leigh Stephens, James Williamson, Fred “Sonic” Smith, the guy from Bubble Puppy.

Sneaking Up From Behind: Fast Eddie (Motorhead), Johnny Ramone, Patrick Barnes, Wayne Kramer.