As the 1980s mercifully drew to an end, not only was Eddie Van Halen's breakneck complexity still in the air, but the New Wave and glossy pop production spiked an interest in synthesizer technology. The few guitar synths that were affordable were notoriously glitchy, but I was impatient and even released a one-sided (!) LP called Minstrels & Minimoogs featuring one with some University of Colorado buddies. In the meantime, a whole new generation of fleet-fingered guitar flagellants was emerging.
And They called Us "Shredders"...
But no matter how hard we tried to shock and awe each other, the simple mention of one name often punctuated the conflagration: Allan Holdsworth.
Van Halen, who has championed Holdsworth's relatively obscure career, understood that Holdsworth's virtuosity was on an utterly different plane. In fact, the man's velocity was merely one of a labyrinth of innovations each induplicable in isolation, let alone combination. It's a sad statement that despite his genius, had Allan Holdsworth not been so fast, he would have continued his oblique arc below most rockers' radar. In The 4.15 Bradford Executive, he demonstrates his enigma at any speed.
