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1997 Gibson ES-335

Exceptionally Fine
** ON HOLD FOR BRUCE ** Back in the years '86- '93, there were about 9-10 good bars in the Atlanta area (from Newnan to Kennesaw) where a cover band could play. You'd do between 3-5 nights a week, about 3-4 sets a night. It was a time when you could make some decent money and let me emphasize that the beer, music, and girls were all good. No, they were all damn great and I will admit to this day that those were the greatest days of my life here on planet Ray. Now, every once in a while, the local club owners would book a traveling band that did what they did full- time, for a living and these out-of-towners were always hungry and had a bit of an attitude. I understand it now- they were coming into foreign territory and they had better be good or their asses wouldn't get booked again. Attitude + hunger = a great show (usually).

Bear in mind that during this period, almost all of the guitarists were playing pointy guitars: lots of Ibanez, Washburn, and B.C Rich guitars were their mainstays. You could always tell which guy's parents had money because they had Jacksons and Charvels (we called them "pretty rich boys" unless they could really play and then we didn't say nothin'). But, there was this one guy that played in one of the traveling bands and I can't remember his or his band's name to save my life. He played this big, natural- colored guitar (with stickers all over it) through a 100-watt Marshall and I am here to tell you that he had the most pissed- off guitar tone I had ever heard. He didn't play any solos- he just stood up front, sang and ripped out some of the nastiest rhythm guitar on the scene. Now, being a child of the 80's, I always thought it was pretty lame of him to be playing this big, round, colorless thing, but there was no denying his tone and attitude. If you're reading this, stop for a minute and remember the last time you heard a properly cranked, 100- watt Marshall head in a club that held maybe 150-200 people... I rest my case.

That brings me to this '97 ES-335. It's got a bit of attitude, so if you plan on sittin' back on the dock, watching the sunset and pulling out some smooth, Jimmy Buffett chords, well- nah. Nevermind. This one has an itch that needs to be scratched and it's ready to rumble like Alex Baldwin at a divorce hearing. It's adorned with more flame than a five- alarm fire and it hasn't even been drilled for the pickguard, which is included and still has the plastic on it. Got any questions? Give us a shout and we'll get on it. Now, it's time for a little 80's Rock n Roll to take me back to a time when things made sense...

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