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Ce qui n'est pas sans me rappeler cette review totalement épique sur la Jackson RR...

Price Paid:
US $2000
Purchased from:
N/A
Jam Masterz Axes n' Amps
Features:
10
All right, shit is just getting out of hand here. People keep e-mailing me wanting to know all about my SIGNATURE Randy Rhoads Jackson V. Like I don't have anything better to do than sit here and write reviews? Fuck that. When I'm not pulling double shifts at Walgreens, I'm spending my time the way any true rocker knows how -- banging HEADS and banging SLUTS, with some quality brew time with my good buddy Dino on the side. Whether it's shredding out with my new band SLUTBANGER, or my side project LETHALICON, I always keep the intense metal mayhem BURNING like the crotch of a Vietnamese whore. You know what I'm talking about.

Anyways, I'm not going to tell you all that technical bullshit that you don't want to hear. All that shit about double-locking tremoloes, humbuckers, strings, and all the stuff that dudes who liked Slayer's "Diabolus In Musica" better than "South of Heaven" probably care about. If you don't own "South of Heaven," then give me call so I can come over and beat you senseless with my SIGNATURE Randy Rhoads Jackson V, because you're about as metal as that kid whose ass I stomped at the last Insatanity show because he asked me if i liked the latest GORETICIAN disc. On the other hand, if you didn't know that "South of Heaven" is a Slayer album, then you should probably call your mom or whoever it is that kept your crib too close to the microwave and thanks them for fucking up your BRAIN so much that you're totally ignorant of the most savagely INTENSE metal album since Blizzard of Ozz.

As for my Signature - you bet your ass - SIGNATURE Randy Rhoads Jackson V, it used to be all polka dot and shit, but Dino hooked me up with this wicked artist named Arturo who works down in Romeoville. He did a sweet-ass painting of a wolf pack hunting at night. Even though I had to stop playing with Rabid Wolf after that fuckhead Jimmy actually asked me to turn it DOWN one day at practice, probably because he's what we true metal maniacs like to call "a pussy assed bitch," it's still a killer wicked paint job that I'm gonna match on my Camaro hood once I finish up my neighbor's lawn.

Sound:
10
You want to know what the SIGNATURE Randy Rhoads Jackson V sounds like? Let me introduce you to a little
something called UNCAGED METAL DESTRUCTION. When I first got my V, I went down into my basement, plugged
it into my EVH 5150 custom half-stack with a 300-foot cord, and then I climbed up into my attic and stood in the window, looking over my neighborhood and wondering if they had any idea that there was about to be a full-frontal metal assault rolling straight through their homes. As I hit that first power G chord, I felt my house rumble as the sonic metal INVASION trampled its way through its walls and loosed itself upon my unsuspecting neighbor, who was stupid enough to come out from his backyard and ask me what was going on. I mean, by now the neighbors know that when I'm standing in that attic window, they should watch where they step because their BALLS are about to be rocked off.

So ANYWAY, there I am, giving my neighbor a good look at what it means to be a true rocker, and just for fun I start practicing some killer Maiden licks when he tries to tell me to turn it down or he'd call the police. Do I look like I have time for his rules?? I'm fucking rocking out, man! I unzipped my pants and told him what he could do with his police.

Anyway, the point is, the SIGNATURE Randy Rhoads Jackson V, if you're lucky enough to own one, will grab you by the throat and spit nothing but pure, UNADULTERATED METAL TONE in your face. Why am I telling you this? If you haven't heard this guitar by now, then you obviously have no concept of what true METAL is all about. You've heard what I've said about Mexican Stratocasters? I bet you play one, don't you, you little bitch? That's what I thought. The Randy Rhoads V gives you maximum tonal definition while acting as a massive slut magnet at every show you bring it to. Just keep a rag handy, because chicks get so wet around this baby, they might end up dripping all over the EQ knobs, and that can seriously fuck up your electronics.

Action, Fit, & Finish:
10
Does this guitar have any flaws? Maybe the fact that you'll have to waste more time kicking the asses of punks that come over and hang around in your basement trying to get a look at it. Like when I came home one day from Dino's, and I heard some totally un-metal, pussy-ass, limp-wristed NON-POWER-CHORDS coming from my basement. I kicked open the door with my boot and found my fucking little brother Randy actually trying to PLAY MY FUCKING GUITAR. Now as you know, this was just one of the many occasions that I found Randy fucking with my shit. Mom says that I should be nicer to him because he looks up to me. Fuck that! I was the one who named him Randy (after you-know-who), in the hopes that he might end up being a brutal demon of speed metal and we could rock out like true brothers of doom, but instead he's just a snotty little punk who likes to get his grubby little hands on my shit. So I had to teach him a lesson.

I grabbed that Jackson V out of his hands and twisted the guitar strap around his neck while it was still on the guitar, and then I put the guitar on his shoulders, strapped his hands to either end with a couple spare cables I had lying around, and I pulled off my belt. Man, could he scream! After five or six whips across the back with my studded Motorhead belt buckle, Mom came down and started yelling at me. She started unstrapping him from the guitar, and I only got a couple more licks in across his shoulders before I had to stop my axe from hitting the ground. That paint job was fucking expensive, you know? Mom kept screaming and Randy's blowing snot everywhere because he was crying like a fucking little mama's boy. I mean, if he's not ready to face the lion, then why'd he walk in the cage? That's what I say. I tried to explain to my mom
that, quite obviously, Randy had not grown up to be as metal as we both had hoped, but she totally didn't understand. But I'll tell you one thing - it was a long time before Randy fucked with any of my shit anymore.

Reliability/Durability:
10
Have you ever grabbed your axe by the neck and clocked some punk in the teeth with it because he said that "Powerslave" is a better album than "Seventh Son"? I have, and let me tell you, my SIGNATURE Jackson V split his face without picking up a scratch. This baby has taken more beatings than Cannibal Corpse's drum kit on "The Bleeding."

As for reliability, do I sound like the kind of poser who would play anything but the BEST guitar for hours upon hours of thrashing metal annihilation? Not ONCE has my V let me down, not even when I got so overwhelmed by its killer tone that I had to climb up on my 5150 half stack and jump onto my lead singer's back, guitar and all. I mean, sometimes there's just so much metal pounding through my brain that I just have to let it out, you know? Anyway, after I started chewing on his ear, he threw me and my Jackson V on the ground, but the V never once stopped ejaculating its hot metal love juice all
over me.

Customer Support:
N/A
Dude, haven't I told you that I NEVER, EVER TALK TO CORPORATE NON-ROCKERS about my gear? You might as
well just buy yourself a pretty little keyboard and start up some pussy dance pop band, because those are the only people who would actually call somebody in an OFFICE and ask them how to rock.

Overall Rating:
10
This guitar cost about five times more than my car, but it's worth every penny. Do you want to get swallowed up by a WHIRLWIND OF BRUTALITY, not to mention by all those metal sluts who will be dropping to their knees for you when they see you walking backstage with that alligator-skinned guitar case and a pair of electric blue spandex pants? If not, then stay on your couch and strum your Simon and Garfunkel songs on whatever lame acoustic guitar you just found in your closet. But if you're ready to get sweaty with the hottest metal sluts this side of Gary, Indiana, then grab your wallet and stop acting like such a bitch.

Once, when I hit a particularly animalistic harmonic on this baby, I heard this ear-shattering screech. It wasn't coming out of my amp, but from the alley behind my dad's garage. When I walked out back, I
found that my precisely honed chops, when matched up with the SIGNATURE Jackson V, were enough to induce seizures into the family of raccoons that live in our dumpster. So don't buy this guitar if you're someone who only goes halfway, because the SIGNATURE Randy Rhoads Jackson V will know. So if you try to plug this thing into a Fender Blues Combo or some other pussy piece of shit amp that isn't ready to unleash an unrelenting METAL STORM on the world, it will probably just stop working, or maybe even attempt to choke you to death with the guitar strap. Don't ask me how. This thing is fucking brutal.

Submitted by
Rip Glitter at 07/25/2001 14:21

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