The 10 Best Fucking Places to Rock Out a Guitar Solo:
For a guitarist, the quest to find the best place to rock out a guitar solo is eternal. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been playing, or even if you know how. All that matters is that you look fucking bad-ass while you do it. For the sake of this list, let’s assume you already have long, greasy hair, leather, a cigarette hanging out the corner of your mouth, tattoos, and your trusty Les Paul. A couple important things to remember when choosing a place to rock out are:
You will see these criteria will come into play in different ways. So let’s get to it:
10) The middle of the desert during a dust storm
(Ignore those houses...he's in the middle of the desert)
You’ve been stranded in the desert for a week, your skin is burned and peeling, your tongue is swollen from lack of water, and if that wasn’t bad enough, you see a giant wall of dust headed your way. Is this the time to take shelter or try to protect yourself? No, this is the time to grab your guitar and start shredding because everyone knows that anyone who can solo in the middle of a dust storm in the desert is hard as stone. Just think of all the chic's that will want to bang you after this.
9) On the edge of a chic’s nipple
(John Petrucci shreds on the tit of a hot supermodel. Nice.)
Rock n’ roll and sex go together like sushi and pot, so it’s only fitting that we take full advantage of this fact. It doesn’t matter if you’re male or female, everyone knows that there is nothing better in this world than a perfect pair of breasts with firm, pert nipples.
You can go about this two different ways: a) find a woman with gigantic breasts. This narrows your options and could be pretty gross. I prefer b) find the guys who made “Innerspace” and ask them how they shrunk down Tuck Pendelton and have them shrink you and your Six String Bringer of Mayhem down. This is the better option because once you are shrunk down, you don’t have to go looking for women; they’ll come looking for you. And I’m talking Penthouse Pet quality tits here and nothing less.
Afterwards, you can go out back to the limo and do lines of blow off of her inner thigh and revel in how amazing you are.
8) On the coffin during grandma’s funeral
(Personally, when I die, I want Slash to solo on my coffin. None of you bitches could beat that.)
Mourning is for pussies. It’s time to kick this party up a notch.
Sure, grandma wasn’t the metal head everyone wished she could be, but she had her moments. And it was no secret that she was a closet Ozzy fan, so you can be sure that she would appreciate this.
One of the most important things to making this work is having a kick ass entrance. Wait outside until there is a moment of silence, and then, as soon as it’s quiet, kick the door down with your steel towed and move toward the center of the church (it’s better if the church has wooden floors; the sound of your heels hitting the wood will echo forever, emphasizing just how cool this is going to be). Once you are positioned, take a deep breath, hold your hand high up in the air, and let everyone look upon you.
When you’re ready, leap onto Grandma’s coffin and start tearing shit up. I’ll bet that everyone will be so pumped that they’ll be doing keg stands in the back and body surfing in the front.
This will be the funeral to end all funerals.
7) Edge of a cliff…during an earthquake
(Even in death, Dimebag still has the power to level mountains.)
So, you’re out on your morning constitutional through the hills, and you’re enjoying everything around you: the trees, the creeks, the fresh air, and the sounds of nature. But there is a fork in the path, and you’ve only taken one way before…you can feel that today is a day for adventure and you take the other road.
It leads you to the cliff.
Not just a cliff. –THE- cliff.
This is where the masters of the axe went when they wanted to astound the world with their astonishing skills, because there are few things cooler than seeing someone solo on a cliff. But there’s something different about the cliff today. All the birds have gone quiet, and below your feet, the ground begins to shake.
This is it; this is your moment. All that came before you will pale in comparison because you are going to solo during a mother-fucking earthquake. The rest of the earth will crumble away but you will be the lone beacon of all that rocks, as you stand high on your perch, shredding like no man has shredded before.
After the destruction, those below might see you as a god. Let them believe this. Because you are a god.
A god of rock.
6) Your boss’s office during an important meeting
(Kirk Hammett demolishes shit with his guitar as your boss sits there like a scared little pussy.)
Fuck business/casual. Fuck collating. Fuck your boss.
You can tell him everything you’ve ever wanted to say without saying a word. Kick that door down when his boss is in town and they are in the middle of their oh-so-vital meeting. On your way in, toss file cabinets aside, ignite stacks of paper with your butane lighter, and kick his ‘Boss of the Fucking Year’ mug right into his chubby smug face.
Turn up the distortion. Push it to 11. Unleash the fury. This is the opportune time to be the definition of ‘head-banger.’
More than likely, his superior will see what a pussy is, join in, and start a mosh pit with the coworkers who have gathered around to witness your sonic chaos.
Make sure that fine-ass Latina chic from reception is there to see this, because immediately after the storm settles and everyone clears out of the office, she’s going to lock the door, wrap her legs around your face, and call you Thor.
5) As you walk on water
(You can't touch this shit and you know it.)
Otherwise known as the “Jimmy Page”.
(NOT recommended for amateurs)
4) At the apex of that devastatingly massive F6 tornado
(SRV dodges cars, lightning, and your sister's whiny fucking dog as he rips out a behind the head guitar solo. Bow down.)
Everyone knows that there’s no reason to ever, ever go to Oklahoma unless you want to go toe to toe with some massive fucking tornados. Weaker guitarists will go there, wait until a tornado forms, quickly hash out a solo, and then seek shelter from the storm. These guys are fucking pussies, and all they want is some “bad-ass” story to go tell their fat, ugly girlfriends who think that their boyfriend is some “amazingly sweet guitarist”. (Even in #10 on this list, we can see that taking any kind of preventative measures or protection would destroy any bit of street cred you might have. So, don’t be a fag; if you can’t handle it, step aside).
This location might be the true test of any guitarist, because this one will be all about the music, and looking fucking harsh while you play it. Everyone else will seek shelter, leaving you all alone. The tornado is barreling towards you. But you don’t waiver. Instead, you just put one your sunglasses and stare right back until-
WOOOOOOOOSH!
That giant fucker scoops you up and starts spinning you around 200 feet in the air along with cars, trees, houses, dogs, the bodies of those other pussy guitarists who died along the way, your old stacks of Guitar World magazines, rocks, witches on bicycles, and some live electrical wires shooting bolts of blue fucking lightning around (mainly just for effect).
But you wait. You wait until you are at the top of this tornado, almost in the stratosphere until you start this solo. Then you shred that axe like the diabolical master of the frets that you are. Everyone cowering in their shelters will hear your song, and when the tornado dissipates and drops you back down, every family will bring their willing, barely legal, perky, hot-ass virgin daughter to be your eternal sex slave. But, being the chivalrous gentleman that you are, you will only take 6 of them.
3) On top of a speeding tank in the middle of a battle field
(Eddie tears shit up on the tank as he leaps over an enemy RPG. Huge fucking robots prepare to do battle as nukes explode and fighter jets go nuts.)
Ask any guitarist who has been around for any length of time and he’ll tell you that concentrating on a solo whilst bullets are whizzing past your skull is one of hardest things you could ask him to do. Ask that same guitarist if he’s ever had the stones to solo in the middle of a fucking fire-fight, and he’ll probably laugh and think you’re crazy. So you can take your Les Paul and crack his face in half because you’re for real as real. And as a kicker, when he’s lying there bleeding, tell him that not only did you shred out a solo on the battlefield, but that you did it on top of a goddamn speeding tank.
If he doesn’t shit, I’ll be surprised.
An important thing to remember here is that it can’t just be some little skirmish. You have to wait until there is mortar fire, bazookas, tracers, grenades, machine guns, bayonets, lasers, armed chimps, SWAT chimps, scud missiles, gigantic robots, and ninjas. Only then is it worth your time to enter this scene.
Scope out the fastest tank you can and plant yourself firmly on its roof, but DON’T start your solo yet. It’s important in a good solo to build tension. Instead, close your eyes and let the wind blow through your hair. The blood curdling screams of those crushed under the wheels of the tank will be your inspiration.
Now, once the enemy combatants have you in their crosshairs, nuke those bitches with your six-string fury. The power of rock will be the only shield you need.
2) After you’ve jumped out of a plane with no parachute
(Keith Richards lets it rip after showing some pussy with a parachute who the boss is.)
Get your guitar nice and tuned up as you’re sitting in the airplane waiting for the doors to open. And ignore the confused looks of the people around you as they stare at your Les with all its sweet abalone inlays, and wonder why you don’t have a parachute. These dipshits just don’t realize how hardcore you are.
Most skydiving consists of 60 seconds of free-fall and then about 5 minutes to land after you’ve pulled your ‘chute. But you’re so fucking hardcore, you would rather have 90 seconds to fall, and kick out one of the most massive solos ever.
Here’s how to go about it:
Make sure you’re the last one to jump out of the plane so that on your way down, as you’re getting medieval on your axe, you can stab holes in the parachutes of those fools who didn’t bow down when they had the chance. And even though you’re a fucking six string beast, it’s okay to take a moment and appreciate the humor in their terrified pussy faces as they realize they are gonna die. But because you’re such a fucking beast, you don’t need to worry that you’re probably gonna die too. All you need to worry about is how your mega shredding sonic fury sounds.
For bonus style points, try to do as many somersaults as you can before you smash into the ground doing 120 miles an hour.
1) On a stage in your hometown
(Boy, don't these guys look like fun.)
A real guitarist loves playing in his hometown. It's comfortable and fun, and the crowds are a lot more friendly. Perhaps your girlfriend or wife will come visit you.
-THE END-
HA HA, BITCHES! Did you think it would be that easy?!
1) During Mother Fucking Armageddon
(Jimi sacrifices his Les in honor of Satan as the 4 horsemen come by to scoop him up and deliver him to his new home in hell.)
Screams and cries, blood and corpses, rain of fire, war, demons, and beasts…you’re going to solo during the last moments of the goddamn human race. Fucking Satan himself will be there to observe the ultimate revelation, the paramount, the supreme shredding of all time during Armafuckingeddon.
The battle is over, and evil has prevailed.
Many met their demise when their head exploded under the forceful swing of your Les. Those weakling lambs of god have been mercilessly sacrificed to the real lord and master, Lucifer. But being the wicked cocksucker that he is, Beelzebub turned on his minions and struck them down leaving only one alive, one that he could not bring himself to snuff out, for the pure evil emanating from the six strings was the most miraculous thing he had ever heard.
Beautiful, sinful, chaotic, melodies played at inhuman speeds filled the air…and Satan wept.
He kneels beside you and puts his flaming arm on your shoulder.
“You. You my son,” he says, “will sit beside me in the eternal flames of hell shredding with the sonic fury that you have unleashed prior on this world.”
For a moment, you think about smashing his fucking head into the ground, but then realize that there is nothing as fucking harsh in this world as playing a solo show for Satan in the fiery pits of deepest hell forever.
So, you accept, with the knowledge that you are the most ruthless fucking axe master this world has ever seen.