7 Cheesy Guitar Solos Of All Time

7 Cheesy Guitar Solos Of All Time | Society Of Rock Videos

via WGN News / YouTube

Alright folks, buckle up. We’re diving into a whirlwind tour of some guitar moments where our beloved axe-wielders missed the note… by a long shot. Yes, even the best can have off days—like, really off. So, let’s cringe and chuckle our way through the 7 cheesiest guitar solos of all time. Ready? Don’t say we didn’t warn you.

1. Mother – The Police

Andy Summers of The Police? Absolute legend. But every legend has that one moment they’d rather not talk about at parties. Enter: the guitar solo in “Mother.” It’s as if Andy decided to take a walk on the wild side of weird, leaving us all scratching our heads. Sure, technical finesse was there, but hidden under layers of bizarre choices and an even stranger vocal track. It’s as if Andy took the concept of a dominating mother and translated it into a guitar solo that dominates our patience.

To give you an idea, imagine your guitar strings rebelling and deciding that today, they’re just not going to play ball. At all. The chords might be there, but they’re taking a detour through chaos city, and honestly, it feels like a weird art project you’re not quite sure you understand. The Police were known for pushing boundaries, but this time, it seems they pushed it right off the table.

2. Unskinny Bop – Poison

Hair metal, a genre known for shredding solos that make or break careers. Then there’s CC Deville’s work on “Unskinny Bop,” which…well, let’s just say it won’t be winning any awards. It’s as if CC looked at Eddie Van Halen, winked, and said, “Hold my beer.” Except, instead of awing the crowd, he left us wondering if his guitar was actually just a bunch of random buttons and levers not connected to anything.

At a notorious American Music Awards performance, Deville seemed to forget that a solo is supposed to, you know, have notes that make sense together. It’s like watching someone use every trick in the book but forgetting the book was about how to play guitar solos. Fans of coherence in their music still wince at the memory.

3. Lenny Kravitz – American Woman

Oh Lenny, Lenny, Lenny… where did we go wrong? His attempt at “American Woman” was supposed to be a homage, maybe? What we got was a solo that reeked of “trying too hard without actually getting anywhere.” It’s almost as if he thought, “What would Hendrix do?” and then did the opposite.

And don’t get us started on the overall effort. It felt like Kravitz spent more time in front of the mirror than he did perfecting his solo. The result? A guitar part that’s more about flair than substance, making guitar enthusiasts worldwide cringe in unison. It’s a classic case of style over substance, and buddy, the substance was sorely missed.

4. The Rolling Stones – Ain’t Too Proud to Beg

Keith Richards, the riff master himself, occasionally misses the target. “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg” might just have given Mick Taylor the push he needed to say, “That’s it, I’m outta here.” The solo kicks in, and suddenly, you’re left wondering if Keith forgot there were strings on his guitar.

It’s the kind of solo that makes you look at your stereo and say, “Really, Keith? Was that it?” It’s not the worst thing ever played, but coming from a Stone, you expect the solo to, well, rock. Instead, it shrugs.

5. She Shook Me Cold – David Bowie

Mick Ronson, the unsung hero behind many Bowie hits, usually dazzles. But on “She Shook Me Cold,” it’s as if his guitar accidentally got switched to autopilot. The solo is a string of clichés so thick, you could use them to wallpaper your rehearsal space.

The real kicker? It ends with what feels like a stolen riff from Hendrix’s playbook. The whole thing has you waiting for the song to “start,” only to realize, oh, this is it. Points for trying, Mick, but maybe next time leave the autopilot off.

6. Cover of the Rolling Stone – Dr Hook

Think of Dr Hook and the Medicine Show, and you’re probably picturing musical jesters rather than somber poets. With song titles like ‘You Make My Pants Want To Get Up and Dance’, it’s evident they weren’t exactly vying for lyrical profundity à la Bob Dylan. Their whimsically cheeky approach is all part of the charm—until you hit the train wreck nestled in the heart of their hit song, ‘Cover of The Rolling Stone’.

This song was penned as a tongue-in-cheek jab at the hit-making machine that was rock ‘n’ roll in its golden age, and the absurdity is in full swing with that solo. Imagine a world where guitar gods like Jimmy Page play after a night of rock star excess—half-conscious, fingers fumbling over frets in a hungover haze. That’s the kind of vibe we’re getting here, except it’s deliberate. The solo doesn’t just flirt with cheesiness; it marries it.

7. Some Kind of Monster – Metallica

Metallica’s St. Anger album is something of an enigma wrapped in a riddle—especially for a band that has Kirk Hammett, a veritable electric guitar virtuoso, in its ranks. Yet, in a move that puzzled many, the album is strikingly devoid of the soaring guitar solos that have defined much of Metallica’s legacy. Instead, Hammett is relegated to the role of rhythm guitarist, chugging along behind James Hetfield’s vocal catharsis. While the raw honesty in their music has always been lauded, St. Anger—and ‘Some Kind of Monster’ in particular—take this to an extreme, stripping away the solos in favor of raw, unpolished emotional expression. In this context, Hammett’s contributions feel painfully restricted, culminating in a solo that is anything but.

At eight minutes long, ‘Some Kind of Monster’ carries the weight of expectation. Listeners might hope for a journey, a narrative arc akin to the peaks and valleys of ‘Master of Puppets’. However, what unfolds is more of a repetitive slog than an odyssey. The track is a test of endurance, challenging the listener with its steadfast commitment to a singular riff. It’s in this sonic monochrome that Hammett’s moment arrives—barely. A brief glimmer of what could have been materializes in the form of a solitary guitar bend, a tease before the song lapses back into its relentless introspection.

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