Since I have a category on this site called “Guitar Porn,” it should come as no surprise to anybody that a glimpse of this new magazine Guitar Aficionado sent me lurching across the floor of Barnes and Noble like one of George Romero’s zombies. The cover image alone — Jimmy Page cradling a Gibson Les Paul Black Beauty, complete with Bigsby — is enough to have an otherwise rational human being thinking, “Sure, I can handle paying out five C-notes a month to own that baby.”
I suppose the purist attitude would be one of offense that something meant to be used and mastered — to be played — is being treated as a fashion and lifestyle accessory, but there’s no denying that a well-made guitar is a thing of beauty in its own right.
I’ve always thought that the tabulatures in guitar magazines serve the same purpose that quality fiction used to serve in Playboy and Penthouse — giving readers a way to pretend they’re interested in something more uplifting than just staring at beautiful pictures of curvy lust objects. So here at last is a magazine that dispenses with the tabs (or the John Updike stories) and amps up the photos of objects of desire.