slash-ed

Featured on the rear of Guitar Player magazine is Slash, holding an Epi Les Paul.

Now we professionals, who have at some time or another gotten paid to play on an actual stage, or at least know someone who was on a stage, know that old Slashy (his friends call him Saul Hudson) doesn’t play an Epi Les Paul any more than I play a right-handed Epi Les Paul.

I wonder how they got him to pose for the picture…
It couldn’t have been as easy as the last ad he did, where all he had to do was fall down in the general vicinity of a Marshall half-stack and grin sheepishly (whilst thinking about sheep, no doubt).

No sir, this ad required a bit more finesse.  Or at very least a lot more alcohol.  If that fellow drinks too much more, he’s gonna spit out his liver onstage (not that this would impede the show at all).

Perhaps they told Saul that this is one of those new handmade LP knockoffs that are vintage-accurate, right down to the truss rod cover that says SLASH on it.   When the flash went off, he was so mesmerized that he almost looked like he was into playing the guitar.  Meanwhile they airbrushed `Epiphone’ onto the headstock.

No, I’m just kidding: Slash can’t read.

But let me put forward another viewpoint, in the interest of fairness.
The actual dirty truth here is that Slash really is Saul Hudson.  Similar to Gene Simmons, who never met merchandising he wouldn’t put his name on, he sat around one day, trying to figure out how to make it in rock and roll.

You see, Saul (likewise Gene) is a nice jewish boy, with very short hair and an accounting degree.  He even has a receding hairline, also like Gene.  He knew he’d never make it as he was, so he invented a character called Slash.  He got some rub-on tattoos, a wig that was rejected from a Rob Zombie horror movie, and enough silver to set off airport metal detectors from blocks away, and set off for Rock Stardom<tm>.

Saul knew that he needed one more gimmick; something to set the entire ensemble (way) over the top.  Looking around the room, he quickly grabbed a trash can and put it on top of his fright wig.

Nope - too Buckethead.

Then he tried whiteface.

Nah - too Kiss.

Finally he took off his belt and put it around his newfound hair.  It was just a little too loose and it kept choking him when he played.  He was this close to Rock Stardom - all he needed was something to keep his belt from falling down.

VOILA!   Someone’s rental top hat was precisely the right size to keep the belt in place.   There must have been one incredibly pissed homosexual around, after he discovered that his hat went missing….

Mind you, the bottles of whiskey are iced tea.  Dating porn stars is easy - the hard part is telling them no.  And after the concert, when the belt, wig, and tattoos are shed, he’s just plain old Saul again.  That’s when he likes to get out his classical and jam with old Andres Segovia videos….

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