Glenn Tipton in the 1990/1991 Painkiller era was nothing short of legendary—a razor-sharp silhouette of British steel, clad in leather, riffs, and attitude. This was Tipton at peak velocity: aggressive, precise, and electrified by a sense of renewed purpose. Painkiller wasn’t just another Judas Priest album; it was a defiant reinvention, and Tipton’s solos were its war cries.
For the background music, I picked All Guns Blazing—a track that showcases Tipton at his most ferocious. His guitar work on this song is a barrage of blistering runs and surgical strikes. There’s a controlled chaos in his solo that captures the essence of the album’s relentless pace. It’s one of his best performances, period.
That said, in a classic moment of laziness (or perhaps subconscious sabotage), I don’t think I actually selected the part of the song with his epic solo in it. Maybe it was the intro riff that lured me in—no regrets, really. Even without the solo, All Guns Blazing sets the perfect tone: raw, fast, and unflinching, just like Tipton during that era.
Visually, he looked like the embodiment of metal—blonde hair flying, a black-and-chrome Hamer guitar slung low, fingers blazing across the fretboard. Every note he played felt like it was chiseled from steel. His technique blended speed and melody with a signature sense of drama—he never just played fast; he told stories.
Even without the solo in the background, the spirit of it lingers. Glenn Tipton didn’t just play guitar—he commanded it. And in the Painkiller era, he was in full battle mode. Missed solo or not, the power remains.
