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A large part of the appeal of punk and new wave was that it eschewed what I regarded as the rather pretentious guitar solo but as you suggest there were exceptions.
The intro and at 1.45
And at 1.45
[Post edited 15 May 12:21]
Worth noting that the guitarist in The Only Ones had been around for a while (including playing Glastonbury in 1971, I think Difford and Tilbrook of Squeeze were there too) so the guitar solo was very skilful but also brief to fit in with the new standards of the day. See also Hugh Cornwell's twenty five seconds here:
Best guitar solo on 09:04 - May 14 by Swansea_Blue
Wow. And what a lineup.
They don't make them like that anymore unfortunately. No disrespect to the likes of Sheeran and the very, very, very many other singer songwriters plastered all over our airwaves, but life seems short of decent musicians and bands these days.
You sound like my dad and his dad before him.
Sometimes I think about the frothing lunatics I’ve put on ignore, who will have kept replying to me again and again, but I don’t even realise they exist.
She's not the only great blues guitarist to play a railway platform:
'If there's one act that Richard Branson should have signed, it's the band led by Djelimady Tounkara, a tall, smiling guitarist from West Africa. Not for the record label, but for Virgin Trains. The Super Rail Band may not be able to make the operation work, but at least they could inject some joie de vivre into British railway travel torment. For 20 years, Tounkara and his colleagues played in the Buffet de la Gare de Bamako - the outdoor café of the railway station in the capital of Mali, regaling travellers with a delicious mixture of the electric folklore they helped create - Congolese dance numbers and old Cuban hits - and spreading the fame of a sub-Saharan railway terminus throughout West Africa, and then to Paris and London...The Buffet de la Gare was indeed a choice dive. Through the arched portico of the 1890s colonial station, prone figures slumbered on banquettes. In front of the track there was a circular concrete dancefloor with battered chairs and tables, a beer kiosk, palm trees connected by a string of coloured bulbs, many mosquitoes and the incense-fragrant night beyond.'
A small contribution to correcting the gender imbalance in the thread, I saw this astonishing performer two or three years ago and wonder why I never followed up on it:
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