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.