If you're not anticipating some anti-shredder salami, you just ain't been hangin' about the Rockhouse long enough, young bluesman.
That boy can play scales like a fox chasing a mouse in the snow but the infinite subtlety of the original is lost in an act which is much like an elephant doing pratfalls for peanuts.
Ed: whew ... that was brutal
Sometimes I surprise myself.
Therein, lads, lies the danger inherent in the soloist with the inevitable I am the Best mentality when you, yah, you ol' bluezman, you know there's no such thing as any best. Any type of real best hardly ever comes alone and almost always comes with the synergy from the rest of the band. It's not that you can play lead guitar but rather whether you lead the band and that's the mark of the musician.
Ed: what about lassies since I'll smoke your old arse on electric guitar!
I bet you could, Ginger Girl, but do it in front of your band and I'll be there with bells to hear you play. Go ahead and smoke me that way and I'll die smilin'.
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