AC\/DC, \u2018You Shook Me All Night Long\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"Australian](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-acdc-shook-me-all-night.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Paul Natkin\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tThe giant ringing chords, platonically perfect snare drum sound, and throat-bleeding vocals of \u201cYou Shook Me All Night Long\u201d set a daunting standard, but Angus Young manages to somehow take a perfect song even higher with a taut, lascivious, no-note-wasted solo. With its shuddering vibrato, major-minor contrasts, and steady build, it\u2019s a quick, little Ph.D.-level school on the art of\u00a0rock lead playing, all from a guy in schoolboy shorts. It\u2019s impossible to imagine a change to even a single bend or flourish. Young\u2019s \u201csolos always had a purpose,\u201d Joe Perry once said. \u201cInstead of using all the traditional tricks, he found a way to get inside those licks and be inventive.\u201d <\/em>\u2014Brian Hiatt<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nBuddy Guy, \u2018Stone Crazy\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"American](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/themes\/vip\/pmc-rollingstone-2022\/assets\/public\/lazyload-fallback.gif\")
![\"American](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-buddy-guy-stone-crazy.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Graphic House\/Archive Photos\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tOnstage, Buddy Guy was the first Stratocaster wild man, lacing his manic fretwork with distortion and feedback while Eisenhower was still in the White House. But in the studio, his label, Chess Records, relegated him to session work, urging him to turn down his amp while he was backing Howlin\u2019 Wolf and Muddy Waters, trying to smooth out his sound to the point of suggesting a new name: Buddy King. But in the series of increasingly untamed solos on \u201cStone Crazy,\u201d cut in late 1961, Guy\u2019s actual sound came to life on tape, even if the full seven-minute version was shelved for nearly a decade. \u201cStone Crazy\u201d was Hendrix before Hendrix, and it gave Eric Clapton an entire lexicon of licks to skim for Cream. \u201cSomebody come get me,\u201d Guy mutters before one manic flurry of licks \u2014 but try as they might, no one ever managed to catch up with him. <\/em>\u2014B.H.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nGeese, \u2018Getting Killed\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"Geese,](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-geese-getting-killed.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Griffin Lotz\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tSure, enigmatic Geese frontman Cameron Winter gets most of the attention, but the band\u2019s elliptical art-rock epiphanies wouldn\u2019t hit nearly as hard without Emily Green\u2019s guitar playing, especially on \u201cGetting Killed.\u201d The first half of the song is a salvo on all fronts, with each band member attacking their instrument, and then abruptly pivots to a lush and layered solo from Green. Her playing is lithe and spry like Tom Verlaine of Television, but also woozy like mid-career Radiohead, and so well-crafted you can imagine her mapping out every note she plays before she picks a string. \u201cGetting Killed\u201d isn\u2019t flashy or freewheeling, but that\u2019s not the point. Green\u2019s style captivates you with its minimalist flair. <\/em>\u2014Jaeden Pinder<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nMegadeth, \u2018Hangar 18\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"UNSPECIFIED](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-megadeth-hangar-198.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Mick Hutson\/Redferns\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tUsing a sophisticated chord sequence he concocted while in Metallica (see: \u201cThe Call of Ktulu\u201d), Megadeth singer-guitarist Dave Mustaine laid the foundation for lead guitarist Marty Friedman\u2019s acrobatic fretwork. Friedman had spent the better part of his 20s playing 1,000 notes per second with the shred-metal group Cacophony. But with Megadeth, he could finally consider the music. \u201c[Producer Mike Clink] told me to look at the lyrics, which were about aliens, and try to reflect the subject matter as much as I could in my playing,\u201d Friedman once said. \u201cI\u2019d never cared about lyrics before, so it was a revelation to suddenly have to think hard about making my solos sound like they came from Mars.\u201d Playing jazzy, Middle Eastern-influenced scales with slippery flourishes in between the notes and Mustaine\u2019s own rapid-fire leads, he elevated what would\u2019ve been another thrash goof into high art. <\/em>\u2014Kory Grow<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nRed Hot Chili Peppers, \u2018Scar Tissue\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"Red](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-rhcp-scar-tissue.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Frank Micelotta\/ImageDirect\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tWhen the first single arrived from the Red Hot Chili Peppers\u2019 1999 album, Californication<\/em>, fans weren\u2019t sure what to expect. It had been a long four years since their last album, 1995\u2019s One Hot Minute<\/em>, a psych-funk stomper that failed to continue the momentum of 1991\u2019s Blood Sugar Sex Magik<\/em>. A big reason for that was the absence of guitarist John Frusciante, who had been replaced by Jane\u2019s Addiction\u2019s Dave Navarro. But now Frusciante was back, and all doubts were laid to rest on \u201cScar Tissue,\u201d a blissfully beautiful welcome-home party that\u2019s still the most mellow these guys have ever sounded. Using a slide on a 1960s custom Fender Telecaster, Frusciante lays down a solo that melts each note so that it flows like one long, groovy river. It was the start of a whole new era for the band. \u2014Angie Martroccio<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nLes Paul and Mary Ford, \u2018How High the Moon\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"16th](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-les-paul-mary-ford-how-high-the-moon.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Express\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tYou can essentially chart the history of the electric guitar as Before Les Paul and After Les Paul. The musician had been messing around with customizing his own electric six-string for years when he finally developed what would become his signature solid-body guitar \u2014 and nowhere is Paul\u2019s influence on how that instrument could be played better heard than on this cover of the Morgan Lewis and Nancy Hamilton standard. The song had been part of the repertoire of Paul\u2019s trio in the 1940s, but when he and his wife, Mary Ford, cut their Western-swing version of the track in their home studio in Queens, he sped up the tempo and seriously ramped up the solo. Everything chugs along nicely as Paul picks out what sounds like a Django Reinhardt line until right before the song\u2019s minute mark \u2014 and then our man simply lets loose. The violent strums and sustained notes seem to echo decades into the future. \u2014David Fear<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nSmashing Pumpkins, \u2018Mayonaise\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"Smashing](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-smashing-pumpkins-mayonnaise.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Gie Knaeps\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tBilly Corgan drew directly from the classic rock that shaped him \u2014 Iron Maiden\u2019s harmonized dual-lead runs, Pink Floyd\u2019s atmospheric slow-burn climaxes, Jimmy Page\u2019s intricately-layered soundscapes \u2014 and supersized his ambitions via lavish production and a total absence of modesty. Yet the comparatively restrained solo on \u201cMayonaise,\u201d tucked between the face-melting freakouts of \u201cGeek U.S.A.\u201d and \u201cSilverfuck\u201d on Smashing Pumpkins\u2019 1993 masterpiece,\u00a0Siamese Dream<\/em>, hits the hardest because of its vulnerability. Corgan does nothing by accident, so it likely took careful construction to make something that sounds like it\u2019s falling apart. From the trembling sustained note that feeds back erratically to the aching bends on the verge of cracking, Corgan sets a template for the grand, distorted, beautifully wounded sound of nascent Nineties alt-rock. <\/em>\u2014Jason Roth<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nThe Commodores, \u2018Easy\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"1977:](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-commodores-easy.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Hulton Archive\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tThe Commodores\u2019 Seventies classic \u201cEasy\u201d might sound silky smooth, but its snapping, melodic guitar solo illuminates the tensions in its lyrics. The man who made it happen is Thomas McClary, who wrote or co-wrote many of the group\u2019s hits and played a huge role in shaping their unique mix of soul, funk, country, and gospel. \u201cWhen you have lyrics in a song that say, \u2018Why in the world would anybody put chains on me? I\u2019ve paid my dues to make it,\u2019 you have to match the intensity of those lyrics,\u201d McClary said of \u201cEasy\u201d in\u00a0a 2017 interview.<\/a>\u00a0\u201cA lot of ballads, the song would just end, but we wanted the guitar solo to take it to another level of intensity.\u201d <\/em>\u2014Maura Johnston<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nStephen Malkmus and the Jicks, \u2018Share the Red\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"MADRID,](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-stephen-malkmus-and-the-jicks-share-the-red.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Mariano Regidor\/Redferns\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tWith his band Pavement, Stephen Malkmus was the flippant Nineties indie jester, with a bratty love for art-damaged punk feedback. But the Northern California boy soon revealed himself as the shaggiest of shredders. He explores his gorgeously lyrical solos all over indie-rock classics like Pavement\u2019s Brighten the Corners <\/em>(\u201cFin\u201d<\/a>), Silver Jews\u2019 American Water<\/em> (\u201cNight Society\u201d<\/a>), or his solo records with the Jicks, like Pig Lib <\/em>and Real Emotional Trash<\/em>. The recent Pavement reunion tours were so jammed-out, he introduced the band as \u201cPhishport Convention.\u201d But he\u2019s never reached higher than \u201cShare the Red,\u201d from 2011\u2019s Mirror Traffic<\/em>, two decades into his career. It\u2019s a wistful ballad of feeling lost in adulthood (\u201cForty with a kid\/Living on the grid\u201d), but Malkmus lets his guitar tell most of the story, with elegiac hippie ripples full of mellow Seventies soft-rock gold-soundz. It\u2019s the most beautifully unguarded and soulful playing of his life \u2014 so far. <\/em>\u2014R.S. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nAerosmith, \u2018Walk This Way\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"NEW](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-aerosmith-walk-this-way.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Richard E. Aaron\/Redferns\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tWhile this deeply horny cut from Aerosmith\u2019s 1975 landmark,\u00a0Toys in the Attic<\/em>, is best known for its funk-tinged central riff, guitarist Joe Perry\u2019s showy solos give Steven Tyler\u2019s flirtations a playful edge. After Tyler\u2019s first plea to \u201cjust give me a kiss,\u201d Perry offers a taste of his virtuosity with a squealing solo that,\u00a0according to\u00a0Guitar World<\/em><\/a>, he overdubbed using a double-cutaway Gibson Les Paul Junior with a single P-90 pickup; after the second go-round he played a late-Fifties model Stratocaster that he also used on his final showcase, a lengthy solo that veers back and forth between longing squeals and fast-fingered blues jamming. <\/em>\u2014M.J.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nPaul Butterfield Blues Band, \u2018East-West\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"NEW](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-butterfield-blues-band-east-west-mike-bloomfield.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Don Paulsen\/Michael Ochs Archives\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tIn late 1965, Michael Bloomfield stayed up all night on acid listening to Indian sitar music. He emerged with \u201cEast-West,\u201d the 13-minute psychedelic jam that blew minds in the summer of 1966, mixing up modal jazz, raga drones, and Chicago blues into a new breed of screaming rock monster. He was already a top guitarist \u2014 that\u2019s him all over Bob Dylan\u2019s Highway 61 Revisited. <\/em>But \u201cEast-West\u201d is his timeless visionary trip \u2014 \u201ca different kind of blues,\u201d Carlos Santana called<\/a> it. The Butterfield Blues Band would improvise on it for a half-hour or more live. \u201cPre-\u2018East-West,\u2019 I was listening to a lot of Coltrane, a lot of Ravi Shankar, and guys that played modal music,\u201d Bloomfield said<\/a>. But for bands like the Grateful Dead, Santana, and Quicksilver Messenger Service, it was a door into the future. \u201cWe were all just awestruck,\u201d the Dead\u2019s Bob Weir recalled<\/a>. \u201cWithin about six months everybody copped all his licks.\u201d <\/em>\u2014R.S.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nGerry Rafferty, \u2018Baker Street\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"Gerry](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/guitar-solos-gerry-rafferty-baker-street.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Gie Knaeps\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\t
Scottish bard Gerry Rafferty\u2019s \u201cBaker Street\u201d is one of the most iconic moments in soft-rock history, a Number Two hit in 1978 that continues to occupy a preeminent place in today\u2019s yacht-rock canon. For its guitar solo, session vet High Burns was saddled with the tough job of coming up with something that might match the grandeur of Raphael Ravenscroft\u2019s towering sax solo, and he nailed it with a soaring, crystalline performance that perfectly echoes the mood of the sax. Burns has enjoyed a huge career as a studio great, including work with Paul McCartney and George Michael, who he backed on \u201cCareless Whisper.\u201d <\/em>\u2014J.D.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nGenesis, \u2018Firth of Fifth\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"UNITED](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-genesis-firth-of-fifth.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Ian Dickson\/Redferns\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tLike many of the best early Genesis songs, the prog-rock epic \u201cFirth of Fifth\u201d was largely written by keyboardist Tony Banks. And he originally planned on wrapping up the nearly 10-minute epic with a keyboard solo. \u201cBut then I started playing it on electric guitar,\u201d guitarist Steve Hackett told Rolling Stone<\/em> in 2019. \u201cIt happened to work particularly well with the pedal I had and the fuzzbox I had back in the day \u2026 it was a particularly good melody played on guitar. Played on piano, it sounds like a French Impressionistic thing. But when played on guitar, it\u2019s got something Egyptian or Middle Eastern. Once I started playing it on guitar, Tony was like, \u2018Oh, let\u2019s do it as a band. Let\u2019s do it with big keyboards.’\u201d It was a fortuitous decision that gave Hackett a signature solo he continues to play at theaters all across the globe to adoring fans. <\/em>\u2014Andy Greene<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nGirlschool, \u2018C\u2019mon Let\u2019s Go\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"UNITED](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-girlschool-cmon-lets-go.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Donna Santisi\/Redferns\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tKelly Johnson played guitar in the all-female band Girlschool, part of the New Wave of British Heavy Metal that also produced Iron Maiden and Mot\u00f6rhead, who Girlschool teamed up with in 1981 for the Valentine\u2019s Day Massacre <\/em>EP. \u201cKelly Johnson, on a good day, is as good as Jeff Beck in his rock & roll days,\u201d said Mot\u00f6rhead\u2019s Lemmy. Johnson was as good as any other Eighties shredder at mixing punk aggression, blues-rock grind, and metal flash on songs like \u201cYeah Right, \u201cHit and Run,\u201d and, especially, \u201cC\u2019mon Let\u2019s Go,\u201d the opening track on the band\u2019s great album Hit and Run<\/em>. On \u201cC\u2019mon Let\u2019s Go,\u201d she gets in and out quick, packing scads of weapons-grade shredding into compact package. <\/em>\u2014J.D.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nPantera, \u2018Cemetery Gates\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"UNSPECIFIED](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-pantera-cemetary-gates.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Mick Hutson\/Redferns\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tBeyond the tragic circumstances of his 2004 death, Dimebag Darrell\u2019s true legacy lies in his unique ability to combine flash and feel \u2014 where dazzling technique meets raw emotion \u2014 without sacrificing power on either side. At a time when hair metal and hyper-speed thrash ruled the land, his playing on 1990\u2019s \u201cCemetery Gates\u201d helped to define an emerging \u201cgroove metal\u201d scene that was less frenetic, more inward-looking, and viewed guitars as potential storytelling tools rather than just blunt weapons. In the soaring solo, Darrell sonically helps to tell the song\u2019s story of grief and loss in three distinct acts. First, a melancholic passage of vocal-like bends that counter Phil Anselmo\u2019s guttural growls. Then, a furious, tension-building climb of breakneck runs and harmonic squeals. And finally, a cathartic, high-register release that wrings every ounce of drama from the moment. <\/em>\u2014J.R.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nJohn Mayer, \u2018Gravity\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"IRVINE,](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/guitar-solos-gravity-john-mayer.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Amanda Edwards\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tA standout track on the aptly named album Continuum<\/em>, Mayer\u2019s maturing sound was informed by his own guitar hero, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and by touring and recording with the blues-based John Mayer Trio. \u201cGravity,\u201d which the voluble Mayer has described as \u201cthe most important song I\u2019ve ever written \u2026 [with] the fewest words,\u201d and its deceptively straightforward solo, is a study in negative space, gently swooping and surging, with moments of silence baked in like glimmers of sun through the trees on a late summer evening. Some players rely on loud amps or effects to get the tone across, but it\u2019s all about the fingers here (a skill Mayer would hone further during his decade-long run in Dead & Company, where he was tasked with the solo work). There\u2019s no bluster or bravado to offset the stillness of \u201cGravity\u201d in its recorded version. A live take released in 2008 (paired with Otis Redding\u2019s \u201cI\u2019ve Got Dreams to Remember\u201d) bends even more at nearly 10 glorious minutes.\u2013Shirley Halperin<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nPearl Jam, \u2018Alive\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"Pearl](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-pearl-jam-alive-mccready.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Steve Eichner\/WireImage\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tWhen Mike McCready first met up with Mother Love Bone\u2019s Stone Gossard and Jeff Ament \u2014 before Eddie Vedder entered the picture \u2014 they played him a rough track titled \u201cDollar Short.\u201d \u201cI remember hearing it, thinking, \u2018OK, this is cool. What can I do with this,’\u201d McCready recalled in 2024. \u201cThe pattern led me to playing the Ace Frehley \u2018She\u2019 solo, which I later found out was the Robby Krieger \u2018Five to One\u2019 solo.’\u201d The influence of Frehley and Krieger is clear on the solo he eventually composed, but he turned it into something distinctly his own. And once Vedder put hit lyrics on top of it and called the song \u201cAlive,\u201d Pearl Jam were born. <\/em>\u2014A.G.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nTalking Heads, \u2018Born Under Punches (The Heat Goes On)\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"Talking](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-talking-heads-born-under-punches-adrian-belew.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Lynn Goldsmith\/Corbis\/VCG\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tAdrian Belew\u2019s otherworldly guitar playing made him a highly sought-after musician in the Seventies and Eighties, including gigs with King Crimson, Frank Zappa, and David Bowie. He was especially interested in creating sounds that didn\u2019t seem like they were coming from a guitar at all, and he really outdid himself on Talking Heads\u2019 1980 masterpiece, Remain in Light<\/em>, especially its opener, \u201cBorn Under Punches (The Heat Goes On).\u201d Against a dense, frenetically funky track, he used an arsenal of gear to create elliptical blips that sounded like a dial-up modem gone nuts or an interplanetary distress signal. \u201cI recorded a guitar solo and then ran it through an expensive piece of studio gear called a Lexicon Prime Time,\u201d he revealed years later, \u201cwhich allowed me to alter the [bandwidth] of the sound while capturing quick little loops I could fool with.\u201d <\/em>\u2014J.D.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nRichard and Linda Thompson, \u2018The Calvary Cross\u2019 (Live at the Oxford Polytechnic)<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"UNITED](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-richard-thompson-calvary-cross.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: David Redfern\/Redferns\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\t\u201cI took up music,\u201d Richard Thompson once told Rolling Stone<\/em>, \u201cso I wouldn\u2019t have to talk to people.\u201d He\u2019s always reigned as the guitar hero of British folk rock, ever since his Sixties band Fairport Convention, with morbid classics like \u201cSloth\u201d and \u201cMeet on the Ledge.\u201d For him, folk music was the dark stuff. \u201cThere\u2019s more murder in it, more death, more of the supernatural, and more industrial grit.\u201d But this live version of \u201cThe Calvary Cross\u201d is his peak, a 13-minute Stratocaster seance full of late-night Celtic dread. It\u2019s from his Oxford Polytechnic show on Nov. 27, 1975 \u2014 one of the great evenings in six-string history. (Don\u2019t get us started about \u201cNight Comes In\u201d<\/a> from the same gig \u2014 both are on the essential Guitar, Vocal<\/em>.) His shivery tremolo solo is haunted by accordion, wife Linda Thompson\u2019s harmonies, and an ancient sense of doom, casting a unique spell. <\/em>\u2014R.S.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nMJ Lenderman, \u2018Knockin\u2019\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"MJ](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-mj-lenderman-knockin.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Griffin Lotz for Rolling Stone\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tFor many listeners, North Carolina singer-songwriter MJ Lenderman\u2019s sad-guy musings have practically made him the poet laureate of 2020s indie rock. As a guitarist, he\u2019s a brilliant inheritor of aching-noise greats like Neil Young and J Mascis.\u00a0 On \u201cKnockin\u2019,\u201d he weaves together scenes of twentysomething ennui and delivers a knockout punch with a guitar part that distills heartbreak and loneliness in sonic form. When Lenderman launches into his solo, he stretches it out like taffy, making each note feel as enveloping as the embrace his character pines for throughout the track. <\/em>\u2014J.P.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nSteve Vai, \u2018For the Love of God\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"AMSTERDAM,](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-steve-vai-for-the-love-of-god.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Frans Schellekens\/Redferns\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tWhen Steve Vai released Passion and Warfare<\/em> in 1990, he had played with Frank Zappa, filled the unimaginably large shoes of Eddie Van Halen in David Lee Roth\u2019s post-Van Halen group, faced off with Ralph Macchio in the hit 1986 film Crossroads<\/em>, and recorded and toured with mega-platinum hard-rock veterans Whitesnake. Given Vai\u2019s high profile, it\u2019s not surprising that Passion and Warfare<\/em>, albeit largely instrumental, entered the albums chart in the Top 20. The epic \u201cFor the Love of God\u201d <\/strong>vividly illustrates that Vai wasn\u2019t just at the height of his visibility, he was also at the apex of his creative powers. The six-minute track sees him exploring the song\u2019s languid theme at length before falling into a fever dream where bizarre whammy-bar warbles punctuate angular phrases, flurries of tremolo-picked notes peel from the speakers, and descending legato runs eventually return Vai (and the listener) to waking reality. \u2014Tom Beaujour<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nYes, \u2018Starship Trooper\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"English](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-yes-starship-trooper.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Michael Putland\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tA couple of years before Steve Howe joined Yes, he was in the struggling British rock band Bodast. The group is little more than a footnote today, but its song \u201cNether Street\u201d \u2014 written entirely by Howe \u2014 provided the framework for the third section of \u201cStarship Trooper\u201d on 1971\u2019s The Yes Album<\/em>. Once Howe was working alongside true visionaries like bassist Chris Squire, drummer Bill Bruford, and singer John Anderson, his guitar solo at the end took off like a starship entering the cosmos. It was prog-rock fans\u2019 first glimpse at Howe\u2019s genius. All these years later, Howe is the only classic-era member of Yes still in the band. Nearly every show ends with \u201cStarship Trooper,\u201d and the solo never fails to bring the entire crowd to their feet. It\u2019s prog-rock at its most majestic. <\/em>\u2014A.G.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nJudas Priest, \u2018Painkiller\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"UNSPECIFIED](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-judas-priest-painkiller.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Mick Hutson\/Redferns\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\tThe double-bass-drum-powered riffs and breakneck tempos of Judas Priest\u2019s 1990 album, Painkiller<\/em>, proved the veteran metal band was still a force to be reckoned with. Hungry to establish their relevance in a world dominated by a new generation of young-gun shredders, guitarists Glenn Tipton and K.K. Downing clearly logged serious time in the woodshed before laying down the solos for Painkiller<\/em>\u2019s unrelenting title track. Tipton takes the tune\u2019s main (and most frequently dissected) solo, bursting off the starting blocks with a flurry of sweeping notes before throttling his whammy bar, nailing a sequence of hammer-on arpeggios and speed-picking his way to the finish line. Downing, whose style is more aggressive than technical, closes the song with a blues-based burst of notes that incorporates dive bombs and squealing pick harmonics to devastating effect. <\/em>\u2014T.B.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nAlbert King, \u2018Crosscut Saw\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t![\"UNITED](\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/guitar-solos-albert-king-crosscut-saw.jpg?w=300\")
\n\t\t\t\t\tImage Credit: Michael Ochs Archives\/Getty Images\t\t\t\t<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<\/p>\n
\n\n\t\u201cMy music is different from any blues player you hear,\u201d Albert King declared late in his career. \u201cI guess it\u2019s because I\u2019m wrong-handed.\u201d The blues pioneer was a massive man with giant hands, a leftie playing his right-handed Flying V upside down, never using a pick. He grew up on a Mississippi Delta plantation with no electricity, teaching himself to play on a cigar box \u2014 \u201cI rehearsed to myself seven years before I played with anybody\u201d \u2014 yet became one of the most influential blues legends. As Gregg Allman said, \u201cI don\u2019t know a guitar player alive who didn\u2019t cut their teeth on Albert.\u201d The Stax hit \u201cCrosscut Saw\u201d showcases the Velvet Bulldozer\u2019s string-bending power, cut in Memphis with Booker T. and the MG\u2019s. \u201cThis gives me goosebumps,\u201d Rush\u2019s Alex Lifeson told Rolling Stone<\/em> of this solo. \u201cIt\u2019s all feel. His vibrato. The way he plays the notes. How he chokes them out.\u201d <\/em>\u2014R.S.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n- \n
\nJimmy Eat World, \u2018The Middle\u2019<\/h2>\n\n\t\t\t
\t<\/p>\n
\n\tThe giant ringing chords, platonically perfect snare drum sound, and throat-bleeding vocals of \u201cYou Shook Me All Night Long\u201d set a daunting standard, but Angus Young manages to somehow take a perfect song even higher with a taut, lascivious, no-note-wasted solo. With its shuddering vibrato, major-minor contrasts, and steady build, it\u2019s a quick, little Ph.D.-level school on the art of\u00a0rock lead playing, all from a guy in schoolboy shorts. It\u2019s impossible to imagine a change to even a single bend or flourish. Young\u2019s \u201csolos always had a purpose,\u201d Joe Perry once said. \u201cInstead of using all the traditional tricks, he found a way to get inside those licks and be inventive.\u201d <\/em>\u2014Brian Hiatt<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tOnstage, Buddy Guy was the first Stratocaster wild man, lacing his manic fretwork with distortion and feedback while Eisenhower was still in the White House. But in the studio, his label, Chess Records, relegated him to session work, urging him to turn down his amp while he was backing Howlin\u2019 Wolf and Muddy Waters, trying to smooth out his sound to the point of suggesting a new name: Buddy King. But in the series of increasingly untamed solos on \u201cStone Crazy,\u201d cut in late 1961, Guy\u2019s actual sound came to life on tape, even if the full seven-minute version was shelved for nearly a decade. \u201cStone Crazy\u201d was Hendrix before Hendrix, and it gave Eric Clapton an entire lexicon of licks to skim for Cream. \u201cSomebody come get me,\u201d Guy mutters before one manic flurry of licks \u2014 but try as they might, no one ever managed to catch up with him. <\/em>\u2014B.H.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tSure, enigmatic Geese frontman Cameron Winter gets most of the attention, but the band\u2019s elliptical art-rock epiphanies wouldn\u2019t hit nearly as hard without Emily Green\u2019s guitar playing, especially on \u201cGetting Killed.\u201d The first half of the song is a salvo on all fronts, with each band member attacking their instrument, and then abruptly pivots to a lush and layered solo from Green. Her playing is lithe and spry like Tom Verlaine of Television, but also woozy like mid-career Radiohead, and so well-crafted you can imagine her mapping out every note she plays before she picks a string. \u201cGetting Killed\u201d isn\u2019t flashy or freewheeling, but that\u2019s not the point. Green\u2019s style captivates you with its minimalist flair. <\/em>\u2014Jaeden Pinder<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tUsing a sophisticated chord sequence he concocted while in Metallica (see: \u201cThe Call of Ktulu\u201d), Megadeth singer-guitarist Dave Mustaine laid the foundation for lead guitarist Marty Friedman\u2019s acrobatic fretwork. Friedman had spent the better part of his 20s playing 1,000 notes per second with the shred-metal group Cacophony. But with Megadeth, he could finally consider the music. \u201c[Producer Mike Clink] told me to look at the lyrics, which were about aliens, and try to reflect the subject matter as much as I could in my playing,\u201d Friedman once said. \u201cI\u2019d never cared about lyrics before, so it was a revelation to suddenly have to think hard about making my solos sound like they came from Mars.\u201d Playing jazzy, Middle Eastern-influenced scales with slippery flourishes in between the notes and Mustaine\u2019s own rapid-fire leads, he elevated what would\u2019ve been another thrash goof into high art. <\/em>\u2014Kory Grow<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tWhen the first single arrived from the Red Hot Chili Peppers\u2019 1999 album, Californication<\/em>, fans weren\u2019t sure what to expect. It had been a long four years since their last album, 1995\u2019s One Hot Minute<\/em>, a psych-funk stomper that failed to continue the momentum of 1991\u2019s Blood Sugar Sex Magik<\/em>. A big reason for that was the absence of guitarist John Frusciante, who had been replaced by Jane\u2019s Addiction\u2019s Dave Navarro. But now Frusciante was back, and all doubts were laid to rest on \u201cScar Tissue,\u201d a blissfully beautiful welcome-home party that\u2019s still the most mellow these guys have ever sounded. Using a slide on a 1960s custom Fender Telecaster, Frusciante lays down a solo that melts each note so that it flows like one long, groovy river. It was the start of a whole new era for the band. \u2014Angie Martroccio<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tYou can essentially chart the history of the electric guitar as Before Les Paul and After Les Paul. The musician had been messing around with customizing his own electric six-string for years when he finally developed what would become his signature solid-body guitar \u2014 and nowhere is Paul\u2019s influence on how that instrument could be played better heard than on this cover of the Morgan Lewis and Nancy Hamilton standard. The song had been part of the repertoire of Paul\u2019s trio in the 1940s, but when he and his wife, Mary Ford, cut their Western-swing version of the track in their home studio in Queens, he sped up the tempo and seriously ramped up the solo. Everything chugs along nicely as Paul picks out what sounds like a Django Reinhardt line until right before the song\u2019s minute mark \u2014 and then our man simply lets loose. The violent strums and sustained notes seem to echo decades into the future. \u2014David Fear<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tBilly Corgan drew directly from the classic rock that shaped him \u2014 Iron Maiden\u2019s harmonized dual-lead runs, Pink Floyd\u2019s atmospheric slow-burn climaxes, Jimmy Page\u2019s intricately-layered soundscapes \u2014 and supersized his ambitions via lavish production and a total absence of modesty. Yet the comparatively restrained solo on \u201cMayonaise,\u201d tucked between the face-melting freakouts of \u201cGeek U.S.A.\u201d and \u201cSilverfuck\u201d on Smashing Pumpkins\u2019 1993 masterpiece,\u00a0Siamese Dream<\/em>, hits the hardest because of its vulnerability. Corgan does nothing by accident, so it likely took careful construction to make something that sounds like it\u2019s falling apart. From the trembling sustained note that feeds back erratically to the aching bends on the verge of cracking, Corgan sets a template for the grand, distorted, beautifully wounded sound of nascent Nineties alt-rock. <\/em>\u2014Jason Roth<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tThe Commodores\u2019 Seventies classic \u201cEasy\u201d might sound silky smooth, but its snapping, melodic guitar solo illuminates the tensions in its lyrics. The man who made it happen is Thomas McClary, who wrote or co-wrote many of the group\u2019s hits and played a huge role in shaping their unique mix of soul, funk, country, and gospel. \u201cWhen you have lyrics in a song that say, \u2018Why in the world would anybody put chains on me? I\u2019ve paid my dues to make it,\u2019 you have to match the intensity of those lyrics,\u201d McClary said of \u201cEasy\u201d in\u00a0a 2017 interview.<\/a>\u00a0\u201cA lot of ballads, the song would just end, but we wanted the guitar solo to take it to another level of intensity.\u201d <\/em>\u2014Maura Johnston<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tWith his band Pavement, Stephen Malkmus was the flippant Nineties indie jester, with a bratty love for art-damaged punk feedback. But the Northern California boy soon revealed himself as the shaggiest of shredders. He explores his gorgeously lyrical solos all over indie-rock classics like Pavement\u2019s Brighten the Corners <\/em>(\u201cFin\u201d<\/a>), Silver Jews\u2019 American Water<\/em> (\u201cNight Society\u201d<\/a>), or his solo records with the Jicks, like Pig Lib <\/em>and Real Emotional Trash<\/em>. The recent Pavement reunion tours were so jammed-out, he introduced the band as \u201cPhishport Convention.\u201d But he\u2019s never reached higher than \u201cShare the Red,\u201d from 2011\u2019s Mirror Traffic<\/em>, two decades into his career. It\u2019s a wistful ballad of feeling lost in adulthood (\u201cForty with a kid\/Living on the grid\u201d), but Malkmus lets his guitar tell most of the story, with elegiac hippie ripples full of mellow Seventies soft-rock gold-soundz. It\u2019s the most beautifully unguarded and soulful playing of his life \u2014 so far. <\/em>\u2014R.S. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tWhile this deeply horny cut from Aerosmith\u2019s 1975 landmark,\u00a0Toys in the Attic<\/em>, is best known for its funk-tinged central riff, guitarist Joe Perry\u2019s showy solos give Steven Tyler\u2019s flirtations a playful edge. After Tyler\u2019s first plea to \u201cjust give me a kiss,\u201d Perry offers a taste of his virtuosity with a squealing solo that,\u00a0according to\u00a0Guitar World<\/em><\/a>, he overdubbed using a double-cutaway Gibson Les Paul Junior with a single P-90 pickup; after the second go-round he played a late-Fifties model Stratocaster that he also used on his final showcase, a lengthy solo that veers back and forth between longing squeals and fast-fingered blues jamming. <\/em>\u2014M.J.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tIn late 1965, Michael Bloomfield stayed up all night on acid listening to Indian sitar music. He emerged with \u201cEast-West,\u201d the 13-minute psychedelic jam that blew minds in the summer of 1966, mixing up modal jazz, raga drones, and Chicago blues into a new breed of screaming rock monster. He was already a top guitarist \u2014 that\u2019s him all over Bob Dylan\u2019s Highway 61 Revisited. <\/em>But \u201cEast-West\u201d is his timeless visionary trip \u2014 \u201ca different kind of blues,\u201d Carlos Santana called<\/a> it. The Butterfield Blues Band would improvise on it for a half-hour or more live. \u201cPre-\u2018East-West,\u2019 I was listening to a lot of Coltrane, a lot of Ravi Shankar, and guys that played modal music,\u201d Bloomfield said<\/a>. But for bands like the Grateful Dead, Santana, and Quicksilver Messenger Service, it was a door into the future. \u201cWe were all just awestruck,\u201d the Dead\u2019s Bob Weir recalled<\/a>. \u201cWithin about six months everybody copped all his licks.\u201d <\/em>\u2014R.S.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\t \t<\/p>\n \n\tLike many of the best early Genesis songs, the prog-rock epic \u201cFirth of Fifth\u201d was largely written by keyboardist Tony Banks. And he originally planned on wrapping up the nearly 10-minute epic with a keyboard solo. \u201cBut then I started playing it on electric guitar,\u201d guitarist Steve Hackett told Rolling Stone<\/em> in 2019. \u201cIt happened to work particularly well with the pedal I had and the fuzzbox I had back in the day \u2026 it was a particularly good melody played on guitar. Played on piano, it sounds like a French Impressionistic thing. But when played on guitar, it\u2019s got something Egyptian or Middle Eastern. Once I started playing it on guitar, Tony was like, \u2018Oh, let\u2019s do it as a band. Let\u2019s do it with big keyboards.’\u201d It was a fortuitous decision that gave Hackett a signature solo he continues to play at theaters all across the globe to adoring fans. <\/em>\u2014Andy Greene<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tKelly Johnson played guitar in the all-female band Girlschool, part of the New Wave of British Heavy Metal that also produced Iron Maiden and Mot\u00f6rhead, who Girlschool teamed up with in 1981 for the Valentine\u2019s Day Massacre <\/em>EP. \u201cKelly Johnson, on a good day, is as good as Jeff Beck in his rock & roll days,\u201d said Mot\u00f6rhead\u2019s Lemmy. Johnson was as good as any other Eighties shredder at mixing punk aggression, blues-rock grind, and metal flash on songs like \u201cYeah Right, \u201cHit and Run,\u201d and, especially, \u201cC\u2019mon Let\u2019s Go,\u201d the opening track on the band\u2019s great album Hit and Run<\/em>. On \u201cC\u2019mon Let\u2019s Go,\u201d she gets in and out quick, packing scads of weapons-grade shredding into compact package. <\/em>\u2014J.D.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tBeyond the tragic circumstances of his 2004 death, Dimebag Darrell\u2019s true legacy lies in his unique ability to combine flash and feel \u2014 where dazzling technique meets raw emotion \u2014 without sacrificing power on either side. At a time when hair metal and hyper-speed thrash ruled the land, his playing on 1990\u2019s \u201cCemetery Gates\u201d helped to define an emerging \u201cgroove metal\u201d scene that was less frenetic, more inward-looking, and viewed guitars as potential storytelling tools rather than just blunt weapons. In the soaring solo, Darrell sonically helps to tell the song\u2019s story of grief and loss in three distinct acts. First, a melancholic passage of vocal-like bends that counter Phil Anselmo\u2019s guttural growls. Then, a furious, tension-building climb of breakneck runs and harmonic squeals. And finally, a cathartic, high-register release that wrings every ounce of drama from the moment. <\/em>\u2014J.R.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tA standout track on the aptly named album Continuum<\/em>, Mayer\u2019s maturing sound was informed by his own guitar hero, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and by touring and recording with the blues-based John Mayer Trio. \u201cGravity,\u201d which the voluble Mayer has described as \u201cthe most important song I\u2019ve ever written \u2026 [with] the fewest words,\u201d and its deceptively straightforward solo, is a study in negative space, gently swooping and surging, with moments of silence baked in like glimmers of sun through the trees on a late summer evening. Some players rely on loud amps or effects to get the tone across, but it\u2019s all about the fingers here (a skill Mayer would hone further during his decade-long run in Dead & Company, where he was tasked with the solo work). There\u2019s no bluster or bravado to offset the stillness of \u201cGravity\u201d in its recorded version. A live take released in 2008 (paired with Otis Redding\u2019s \u201cI\u2019ve Got Dreams to Remember\u201d) bends even more at nearly 10 glorious minutes.\u2013Shirley Halperin<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tWhen Mike McCready first met up with Mother Love Bone\u2019s Stone Gossard and Jeff Ament \u2014 before Eddie Vedder entered the picture \u2014 they played him a rough track titled \u201cDollar Short.\u201d \u201cI remember hearing it, thinking, \u2018OK, this is cool. What can I do with this,’\u201d McCready recalled in 2024. \u201cThe pattern led me to playing the Ace Frehley \u2018She\u2019 solo, which I later found out was the Robby Krieger \u2018Five to One\u2019 solo.’\u201d The influence of Frehley and Krieger is clear on the solo he eventually composed, but he turned it into something distinctly his own. And once Vedder put hit lyrics on top of it and called the song \u201cAlive,\u201d Pearl Jam were born. <\/em>\u2014A.G.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tAdrian Belew\u2019s otherworldly guitar playing made him a highly sought-after musician in the Seventies and Eighties, including gigs with King Crimson, Frank Zappa, and David Bowie. He was especially interested in creating sounds that didn\u2019t seem like they were coming from a guitar at all, and he really outdid himself on Talking Heads\u2019 1980 masterpiece, Remain in Light<\/em>, especially its opener, \u201cBorn Under Punches (The Heat Goes On).\u201d Against a dense, frenetically funky track, he used an arsenal of gear to create elliptical blips that sounded like a dial-up modem gone nuts or an interplanetary distress signal. \u201cI recorded a guitar solo and then ran it through an expensive piece of studio gear called a Lexicon Prime Time,\u201d he revealed years later, \u201cwhich allowed me to alter the [bandwidth] of the sound while capturing quick little loops I could fool with.\u201d <\/em>\u2014J.D.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cI took up music,\u201d Richard Thompson once told Rolling Stone<\/em>, \u201cso I wouldn\u2019t have to talk to people.\u201d He\u2019s always reigned as the guitar hero of British folk rock, ever since his Sixties band Fairport Convention, with morbid classics like \u201cSloth\u201d and \u201cMeet on the Ledge.\u201d For him, folk music was the dark stuff. \u201cThere\u2019s more murder in it, more death, more of the supernatural, and more industrial grit.\u201d But this live version of \u201cThe Calvary Cross\u201d is his peak, a 13-minute Stratocaster seance full of late-night Celtic dread. It\u2019s from his Oxford Polytechnic show on Nov. 27, 1975 \u2014 one of the great evenings in six-string history. (Don\u2019t get us started about \u201cNight Comes In\u201d<\/a> from the same gig \u2014 both are on the essential Guitar, Vocal<\/em>.) His shivery tremolo solo is haunted by accordion, wife Linda Thompson\u2019s harmonies, and an ancient sense of doom, casting a unique spell. <\/em>\u2014R.S.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tFor many listeners, North Carolina singer-songwriter MJ Lenderman\u2019s sad-guy musings have practically made him the poet laureate of 2020s indie rock. As a guitarist, he\u2019s a brilliant inheritor of aching-noise greats like Neil Young and J Mascis.\u00a0 On \u201cKnockin\u2019,\u201d he weaves together scenes of twentysomething ennui and delivers a knockout punch with a guitar part that distills heartbreak and loneliness in sonic form. When Lenderman launches into his solo, he stretches it out like taffy, making each note feel as enveloping as the embrace his character pines for throughout the track. <\/em>\u2014J.P.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tWhen Steve Vai released Passion and Warfare<\/em> in 1990, he had played with Frank Zappa, filled the unimaginably large shoes of Eddie Van Halen in David Lee Roth\u2019s post-Van Halen group, faced off with Ralph Macchio in the hit 1986 film Crossroads<\/em>, and recorded and toured with mega-platinum hard-rock veterans Whitesnake. Given Vai\u2019s high profile, it\u2019s not surprising that Passion and Warfare<\/em>, albeit largely instrumental, entered the albums chart in the Top 20. The epic \u201cFor the Love of God\u201d <\/strong>vividly illustrates that Vai wasn\u2019t just at the height of his visibility, he was also at the apex of his creative powers. The six-minute track sees him exploring the song\u2019s languid theme at length before falling into a fever dream where bizarre whammy-bar warbles punctuate angular phrases, flurries of tremolo-picked notes peel from the speakers, and descending legato runs eventually return Vai (and the listener) to waking reality. \u2014Tom Beaujour<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tA couple of years before Steve Howe joined Yes, he was in the struggling British rock band Bodast. The group is little more than a footnote today, but its song \u201cNether Street\u201d \u2014 written entirely by Howe \u2014 provided the framework for the third section of \u201cStarship Trooper\u201d on 1971\u2019s The Yes Album<\/em>. Once Howe was working alongside true visionaries like bassist Chris Squire, drummer Bill Bruford, and singer John Anderson, his guitar solo at the end took off like a starship entering the cosmos. It was prog-rock fans\u2019 first glimpse at Howe\u2019s genius. All these years later, Howe is the only classic-era member of Yes still in the band. Nearly every show ends with \u201cStarship Trooper,\u201d and the solo never fails to bring the entire crowd to their feet. It\u2019s prog-rock at its most majestic. <\/em>\u2014A.G.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\tThe double-bass-drum-powered riffs and breakneck tempos of Judas Priest\u2019s 1990 album, Painkiller<\/em>, proved the veteran metal band was still a force to be reckoned with. Hungry to establish their relevance in a world dominated by a new generation of young-gun shredders, guitarists Glenn Tipton and K.K. Downing clearly logged serious time in the woodshed before laying down the solos for Painkiller<\/em>\u2019s unrelenting title track. Tipton takes the tune\u2019s main (and most frequently dissected) solo, bursting off the starting blocks with a flurry of sweeping notes before throttling his whammy bar, nailing a sequence of hammer-on arpeggios and speed-picking his way to the finish line. Downing, whose style is more aggressive than technical, closes the song with a blues-based burst of notes that incorporates dive bombs and squealing pick harmonics to devastating effect. <\/em>\u2014T.B.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\n \t<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cMy music is different from any blues player you hear,\u201d Albert King declared late in his career. \u201cI guess it\u2019s because I\u2019m wrong-handed.\u201d The blues pioneer was a massive man with giant hands, a leftie playing his right-handed Flying V upside down, never using a pick. He grew up on a Mississippi Delta plantation with no electricity, teaching himself to play on a cigar box \u2014 \u201cI rehearsed to myself seven years before I played with anybody\u201d \u2014 yet became one of the most influential blues legends. As Gregg Allman said, \u201cI don\u2019t know a guitar player alive who didn\u2019t cut their teeth on Albert.\u201d The Stax hit \u201cCrosscut Saw\u201d showcases the Velvet Bulldozer\u2019s string-bending power, cut in Memphis with Booker T. and the MG\u2019s. \u201cThis gives me goosebumps,\u201d Rush\u2019s Alex Lifeson told Rolling Stone<\/em> of this solo. \u201cIt\u2019s all feel. His vibrato. The way he plays the notes. How he chokes them out.\u201d <\/em>\u2014R.S.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\nBuddy Guy, \u2018Stone Crazy\u2019<\/h2>\n
Geese, \u2018Getting Killed\u2019<\/h2>\n
Megadeth, \u2018Hangar 18\u2019<\/h2>\n
Red Hot Chili Peppers, \u2018Scar Tissue\u2019<\/h2>\n
Les Paul and Mary Ford, \u2018How High the Moon\u2019<\/h2>\n
Smashing Pumpkins, \u2018Mayonaise\u2019<\/h2>\n
The Commodores, \u2018Easy\u2019<\/h2>\n
Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, \u2018Share the Red\u2019<\/h2>\n
Aerosmith, \u2018Walk This Way\u2019<\/h2>\n
Paul Butterfield Blues Band, \u2018East-West\u2019<\/h2>\n
Gerry Rafferty, \u2018Baker Street\u2019<\/h2>\n
Scottish bard Gerry Rafferty\u2019s \u201cBaker Street\u201d is one of the most iconic moments in soft-rock history, a Number Two hit in 1978 that continues to occupy a preeminent place in today\u2019s yacht-rock canon. For its guitar solo, session vet High Burns was saddled with the tough job of coming up with something that might match the grandeur of Raphael Ravenscroft\u2019s towering sax solo, and he nailed it with a soaring, crystalline performance that perfectly echoes the mood of the sax. Burns has enjoyed a huge career as a studio great, including work with Paul McCartney and George Michael, who he backed on \u201cCareless Whisper.\u201d <\/em>\u2014J.D.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/li>\nGenesis, \u2018Firth of Fifth\u2019<\/h2>\n
Girlschool, \u2018C\u2019mon Let\u2019s Go\u2019<\/h2>\n
Pantera, \u2018Cemetery Gates\u2019<\/h2>\n
John Mayer, \u2018Gravity\u2019<\/h2>\n
Pearl Jam, \u2018Alive\u2019<\/h2>\n
Talking Heads, \u2018Born Under Punches (The Heat Goes On)\u2019<\/h2>\n
Richard and Linda Thompson, \u2018The Calvary Cross\u2019 (Live at the Oxford Polytechnic)<\/h2>\n
MJ Lenderman, \u2018Knockin\u2019\u2019<\/h2>\n
Steve Vai, \u2018For the Love of God\u2019<\/h2>\n
Yes, \u2018Starship Trooper\u2019<\/h2>\n
Judas Priest, \u2018Painkiller\u2019<\/h2>\n
Albert King, \u2018Crosscut Saw\u2019<\/h2>\n
Jimmy Eat World, \u2018The Middle\u2019<\/h2>\n