Wow! That's quite a price tag?
Wow. Those "illustrations" are not drawn very well, and look like they were applied with all the design sense of a drunk monkey. Do they really think this will sell? The Yogurt Puke & Pepto Pink 6120 is a work of art by comparison.
Free shipping, though.
Switch tip missing. I'll have to adjust my bid accordingly.
Boy, that shop has more than its fair share of hideously reliced guitars.
What are these boys either smoking, drinking, snorting or rubbing into their ass??
That's just silly.
If they say it is a "one-of-a-kind", is that a promise that I can take to the bank? I don't want to be out on a gig and have someone else show up with another one on the same bandstand.
Affectionately nicknamed "Claude's Knob"..
I dunno. I've been saving up - now I don't know if I'd rather have a gently used Tesla Model S or the Illustrated Gibson.
Life is full of these difficult choices.
I didn't know Orville Redenbacher played guitar?
Who originally asked for this to be built? I’m going on a google search.
Back is nice... front looks like an afterthought.... a bad afterthought!
Not an afterthought---a flashback.
Just because you can doesn't mean you should.
Art or vandalism? Sometimes it's a fine line.
Now if I was to leave out one of my guitars and Banksy painted it I might be delighted. But I wouldn't leave a beautiful hollowbody Gibson out anywhere!
A new standard for bad ideas by Gibson.....
After reading the copy, though, I'm with Deed in wondering who commissioned this. Funky as Claude may have been, runnin' in and out, I doubt the organizer of a jazz festival stands high enough in the pantheon of icons even of a Byrdland's target marget to inspire Gibson themselves to build this on spec.
Jazz players aren't known for their wild, extroverted taste in instruments, and most of them aren't into garish and ugly for their own sake. Pretty sure Gibson knows this. The company no doubt does some stuff we can't fathom, and we occasionally doubt for their collective sanity, but I bet this one was built to customer order - and that the pricing shown here has nothing to do with Gibson's pricing to that customer.
I can imagine a scenario where an arts organization devoted to the support of a jazz festival might have held a fund-raiser to part its well-heeled membership and guests from huge sums of money as philanthropy. Picture a ridiculously expensive catered meal in a bespoke hotel ballroom, evening dress only, ladies in decolletage and pearls, gents shaken but not stirred, bowing waiters presenting cradled bottles of rare vintages over arms draped with linen napkins. The meal is over, diners around 12-top round tables adorned with cut flowers are replete after the rich repast, well-lubricated with wine, conversation, and the self-congratulatory mutual satisfaction of being among the 1% gathered in a glittering enclave.
An after-dinner speaker or two have stroked nostalgia, sentiment, and a skillfully mingled sense of privilege and noblesse oblige: thank you all for coming, you the pillars of society, you who have the means, the class, and the insight to support this mission so steeped in heritage, so critical to the preservation of this artform and the precious institution which sustains it. Without you, etc...
Then begins the charity auction of memorabilia, items provided by corporate sponsors and private donors, unique and one-only heirlooms. The money goes to a good cause. Bidders feel the pleasant excitement of competitive auction action, inwardly proud to be among the elite who can afford such extravagance, determined to be a high roller recognized by their peers, and suffused with the warm glow of satisfaction that after all, it's tax-deductible.
The climax of the auction is this guitar, dedicated to the memory of a founding patriarch, gaudily enough painted to send waves of eye-dazzling bling to the back of the ballroom. Lights dim, the guitarist in the expensive dinner jazz-and-standards trio represses his gag instinct and picks up the Tyrdland; the band plays a piece showcasing guitar and the player's virtuosity (with a tone dark enough to convince bidders it's really jazz, but bright enough so Dave can hear every grain line in the spruce top flexing).
After the applause recedes, lights come back up and the emcee presents the guitar reverently to the audience. A one-off! Created by the master artisans at Gibson to be the ultimate incarnation of a iconic jazz instrument! There has never been, there will never be another like it. Someone will go home tonight with a piece of jazz history!
Next day the winning bidder wakes up with a wine hangover and this ludicrous, gaudy, tasteless bit of kitsch staring him in the face. He makes sure he has a receipt for his donation to the foundation, then calls the nearest high-end guitar dealer and asks "do you take consignments? You won't believe what I gave for this thing. Seemed like a good idea at the time."
Still: ugly, incongruous, and chromatically self-contradicting as it is, this guitar is only a re-fin away from its appropriate splendor.
On the other hand, (reasonably) sublime to this ridiculous, is this beauty, which Ebay suggests anyone shopping the art-class-project Gibson consider.
Carved in one piece from a single chunk-o-wood. Cool hardware. (Though if they want that much of my money, they ought at least tell me whether the ceramic!-magnet pickups are single or double coil. That might be the deciding factor.)
That’s pretty nifty (the one Proteus just posted, not the OP’s silly Gibby).
If you Buy It Now you save $15,000!
I don't understand a lot of things anymore...
Sounds like an old joke from when I was a kid...
How to Care For Your Bobcat, by Claude Nobs.
You'd have to play "Smoke on the Water" with that guitar as a tribute to Funky Claude.
I dunno. I've been saving up - now I don't know if I'd rather have a gently used Tesla Model S or the Illustrated Gibson. Life is full of these difficult choices.
I suggest you make the drive up to Kingston, Canada, to the Great White North Roundup one day, and see one of the GDP'ers 2 Teslas. He might even let you behind the wheel!
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