A friend told me about this last night: in 2008, Guitar World listed the worst guitar solos ever. The top slot went to C.C. DeVille from a Poison live album, and it’s really something to hear. I laughed out loud three or four times. The entire solo is like a fantastic spoof of ridiculous hair metal shredding, except no one but a completely serious C.C. DeVille could have pulled it off.
Here’s Guitar World’s description:
Remember when you were in high school and your novice shredder best friend kept insisting he’d “almost nailed” Eddie Van Halen’s “Eruption” solo, and you’d be stuck in his room wanting to kill yourself as he tried to play it again and again? That’s a little what listening to C.C.’s jaw-dropping nine-minute solo spot is like. Only instead of your friend going “No, wait!” and starting over every time he fucks up, there’s an arena full of idiots loudly cheering him on. And just to show you the breadth of his chops, C.C. also throws in a messy attempt at some “Hot Club”–style gypsy jazz licks (Django Reinhardt would surely be envious of the tres magnifique tones C.C. coaxes from his pointyheadstocked ax), a touch of polka, some searing Miami Vice blues bends and, of course, several more dive bombs and two-handed tapping runs whenever inspiration fails. Completely devoid of taste, structure or steady tempo, this should be required listening for budding guitarists everywhere. Surely they can’t do any worse.
The final minutes remind me of a soft-lit meditation/training scene from a Steven Seagal movie, like when he’s preparing for the action ahead by sticking lighted incense acupuncture needles into his skin, and Kelly LeBrock is peeking in, admiring his discipline, and they’re about to make tender love before he goes on his elbow-breaking revenge mission.
My favorite part (how to chose?) is right after the jazzy cruise-ship section. There’s a brief pause, an artificially amplified roar from the crowd… and then the hair-metalist of hair-metal shriek notes to reignite the action. I’ve queued that section up below, but really: treat yourself to the whole nine minutes.