Name: Ryan Fleisher
City: Atlanta Georgia
Instrument: Gibson Les Paul Custom
Les Paul, I wish I knew how to quit you.
I’m a guitar slut. I practice guitar infidelity, so picking just one was a challenge. Throughout my trysts, there’s one git I always come back to - The Gibson Les Paul. Specifically, the Custom. I’ve had probably four or five by now.
It was the summer of 2012, and I was combing through various cities’ Craiglist postings to find my next treasure. For reasons unbeknownst to me, this one just sat on Nashville’s Craigslist, and I made a low-ball offer that the seller immediately rejected. But for whatever reason, a few months later, my offer was accepted. I sped to Nashville the next day and brought her home.
The guitar is stupidly indulgent - with gold hardware, huge inlays, a fiery bookmatched flame top, and a paint job (Triburst) that makes me blush. Hell, even the case is lined with crushed red velvet! And at 13 pounds, this back-breaker is just as loud as it is opulent. It’s the guitar I always have to turn down when jamming - it doesn’t just cut through the mix, it crushes it altogether. But the beefy and creamy sustain is undeniable, and even Les Paul naysayers admire it lustfully.
Many guitars have come and gone since I acquired this Les Paul - but every time I just peek into the case, I’m reminded why she’s sticking around.
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