!["Reflecting on Being Dubbed the ‘Solo of the Century,’ Nuno Bettencourt Remembers Telling Steve Lukather, ‘This is Insane’—His Thoughts on Declining Ozzy, Black Sabbath’s Final Concert, and Extreme Finally Receiving Recognition"]](https://backingtracksfullcollection.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/12/Reflecting-on-Being-Dubbed-the-‘Solo-of-the-Century-Nuno-758x406.jpg "\"Reflecting on Being Dubbed the ‘Solo of the Century,’ Nuno Bettencourt Remembers Telling Steve Lukather, ‘This is Insane’—His Thoughts on Declining Ozzy, Black Sabbath’s Final Concert, and Extreme Finally Receiving Recognition\"] 1")
If you’ve been following Nuno Bettencourt over the past couple of years, you’ll be no stranger to his domination of all things electric guitar. For new fans, Nuno’s theatrics feel fresh and new, but in reality, the guy is pushing 60 and has been ripping it up since the late ’80s.
But Nuno is doing nothing new; it just feels that way because it felt like he’d been, well, away for a while. That all changed when Nuno’s longtime band, Extreme, dropped Six in 2023.
It was their first album in 15 years, so it’s not difficult to see why a very non-guitar-oriented scene had forgotten about him. But even with all that time passed, it seems ridiculous that people could just forget someone so evergreen.
“Jake said to me, ‘You’re one of the most well-rounded players – and what a player should be in a band,’” Bettencourt says. “That was everything I wanted to be. I wasn’t trying to chase anybody. I wanted to be in my own band. I wanted to be well-rounded. I was attracted to the guys who could rip but were in bands, could write songs, lyrics and melodies.”
Dating back to his days as a young gun out of Boston, Bettencourt has done precisely that. With Extreme, a band that by his own admission was always a rock ’n’ roll stepchild, he dropped songs like Mutha (Don’t Wanna Go to School Today), Get the Funk Out and the polarizing yet popular More Than Words.
But, despite the chance to become the next solo guitar legend – and an infamous offer to join Ozzy’s band after Zakk Wylde departed – Bettencourt never deviated from his plan to keep guitar music alive in a band setting.
“I’m really lucky,” he says. “I don’t take shit for granted. I keep it in my head, and I try to retain the feeling because that’s something that no drug, no alcohol can give. Period.”
When it comes to guitar, nothing but the sound of Bettencourt with a six-string in hand can give listeners that feeling either. The world’s shutter-shocked reaction to Six, specifically the solo in Rise.
There are plenty of great guitarists out there, but few dominate like Bettencourt. Few take over. And even fewer do so with humility, all while curb-stomping anyone who dares cross their path. It’s that dichotomy that makes Nuno great, and dare we say, an outright legend.
“People are saying I was the MVP [of Back to the Beginning],” Nuno says. “But really, all I did was go up and be myself. All I did was learn and respect the songs.
“But I feel somewhat like after it happened, it kind of made me go full circle and realize who I am, what I did, why I showed up, why I was there… and maybe why they respected me enough to ask me. And it had nothing to do with guitar players outdoing each other, or being in the same breath as Randy Rhoads, Jake E. Lee, or being in the company of Tony Iommi.”
Nuno might not be the kind of guy who attempts to decide on his own legacy, but what he can – and has – decided on is where he takes his career revival next. To that end, he’s working on “15 or 16 new songs” with Extreme and has launched a new range of instruments, Nuno Guitars.
Two new models, the Dark Horse and the White Stallion, are set to be the brand’s first guitars, and – as the marketing text puts it – the Nuno company will be “continuing the legacy of the N4,” his longstanding signature Washburn instrument. Continuing the equine metaphor, the press release describes the new guitars as “true workhorses built with the same passion I’ve put into every note I’ve ever played. Let’s ride!”
“This has been the culmination of everything I’ve ever learned, studied, done and respected,” he says of the whirlwind of the last two years. “And with Back to the Beginning, I was there to represent that as a guitar player. But I’m more than a guitar player. I’m a songwriter, a musician, a vocalist and an arranger. It was the culmination of all of that.”
You were one of the highlights of Back to the Beginning. Where was your head at after that experience?
I mean, did it actually happen? [Laughs] It was one of those days where you just have to somehow believe the footage and photos and know you were actually there – and that you were invited. It was one of those milestone life and career moments.
But I’ll be completely honest. When I first saw the ad at the beginning of the year, and I saw that it was Black Sabbath, Ozzy’s last show and all these amazing bands, I wasn’t bitter – but I was surprised.
Why was that?
I saw the massive list of individual artists from different bands playing, who I imagine were there for a reason and had a connection, and I wasn’t mentioned. I wasn’t invited. I was like, “Okay…” Not that I felt like I should be, but it was like, “It would have been great to be a part of this.”
Extreme has always been on the outside, like the bastard child of rock ’n’ roll
Where did your mind go when you started to ruminate on that?
I was asked by Ozzy to join his band in 1995, and I was thinking, “Maybe it’s because I turned it down.” Nobody says no to Ozzy; it’s the guitar gig of a lifetime. But then I was like, “Get over yourself! They just have a lot of people.” But I started going to this place because Extreme has always been on the outside, like the bastard child of rock ’n’ roll.
In the sense that no-one knew what to do with you because of the genre-fluid nature of the band’s music?
Nobody ever knew what to do with us. Between More Than Words and all the funk and horn stuff, they were like, “These guys aren’t rock or metal…” But then I got a call to do the show.
Jake E. Lee has alluded to the fact that your role expanded massively along the way. What was that like?
It was exciting to be included. Tom Morello, who was putting these groups together, which was like wrangling cats, said, “Everybody is coming in, guesting and doing these supergroups. You’d be a part of one supergroup and do a couple of songs.”
Then, three days later, he was like, “Can you do another three songs?” [Laughs] He said, “So and so isn’t coming.” A couple of days later, he said, “Do you want to do another two or three? Wolfgang Van Halen is pulling out. He can’t do it because of scheduling stuff. He has a gig the next day.”
And of course, you were also on tour with Extreme at the time.
I said, “Tough shit. I have a gig the next day, too!” [Laughs] I had to fly from Birmingham and do that thing we’re not allowed to do, which is fly the day of a show. If a flight goes wrong and you’re playing a gig with Def Leppard in Canada on one of the biggest stages, what if you don’t make it?
You ended up doing it anyway. How did you make that work?
My manager initially said, “You’ve got to choose one.” I said, “Hell, no! I want to do the gig with Def Leppard, and I’m not not doing the Sabbath and Ozzy show. I’m doing both. Figure it out. Get backup flights. I’ll take a rowboat across if I have to.” I ended up doing 12 songs. [Laughs]
And you ended up being the proverbial “MVP” of the show!
I said, “Now I gotta get to work. Let me sit down and get this stuff right.” I started playing it, and I was like, “Oh, this is why people pulled out.” [Laughs] Not that it’s technically impossible to play, but you gotta do your work because Randy’s stuff was a little bit of a different language.
How so?
I hadn’t played that stuff since I was a teenager. Back then, I believed I was playing it correctly, but I wasn’t even close. It wasn’t just the solos; it was the fingering. It’s this classically driven, melodic, beautiful, just great – but fiery as hell – stuff. For some reason, I thought it was just melodic.
You look over, and you’ve got all these iconic legends. It’s like, “Where am I? What the f**k is happening here?”
But I was like, “No, there’s some fire in here. There’s some crazy shit going on here.” And then after the solos, there’s all these amazing licks in the rhythm playing. You can’t improvise this stuff. You can’t just almost do it, you know? It’s Randy Rhoads – but it’s also Jake E. Lee.
It sounds as if it was a transcendent experience on that stage.
You look over, and you’ve got all these iconic legends. It’s like, “Where am I? What the fuck is happening here?” I definitely tried to not represent just me – I felt like I wasn’t representing me at all – but representing history. I really wanted to do right by Randy, Jake and Tony Iommi.
I felt like I had two versions of me there. One, especially during the photoshoot, where you’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder, touching giants – was the version of me, going, “I belong here, right?” There’s a part of me that’s like, in a very dream sequence way, sees an Azorean Portuguese immigrant sitting in his bedroom in Hudson, Massachusetts.
That version of me was standing there going, “You know what, somebody is about to walk in here from security, grab me and go, ‘Hey, kid, get out of here. You don’t belong here.’” I was like, “I’m gonna wake up and just be this 15-year-old kid, going, ‘Fuck, I had this dream…’ and everybody is going to go, ‘Oh, that’s impossible.’”
When Extreme released Six, you came out of nowhere to set the guitar world on fire again. In a lot of ways, what you’re talking about now seems like the culmination of the trip you’ve been on since then, where you talked about a mission statement of helping guitar make a comeback.
I thought about that. It’s like what sort of strange destiny was this for me in that sense? I was going for blood on that album, like I always do, but at a time when guitar-driven albums aren’t around so much. When I was coming up, we were so spoiled because there were albums with great guitar players coming out every month. We were in the company of giants.
From Edward Van Halen and Yngwie Malmsteen and all these great bands that had great guitar players, we were so spoiled. They were everywhere. So I think you’re right. When Six came out, I didn’t realize – until I started reading the comments, and I was like, “Wait – what’s happening?”
After being named guitar’s MVP in 2023, and now being named Back to the Beginning’s MVP, are you able to accept that level of praise?
After seeing the Rise solo being called the “solo of the century” in some magazine [that would be Guitar World’s dearly departed sister mag Total Guitar – Ed], I remember saying to Steve Lukather, “Come on, this is ridiculous.” He said, “Look, we know you’ve always been able to do this stuff, so it wasn’t like we were shocked. But people were starved for guitar playing within a band.” It was just the band like it used to be, going for blood.
There are still great artists out there, but I think it was the new-music thing. It was like, “Let’s try and bury what we did. Let me up myself and what I did in the past.” It was that feeling of like we were back in the day, where when you looked at Edward, or any guitar player you admired, you said, “What are they going to come up with next? What are they going to do to blow your mind?”
Returning to Back to the Beginning, it seems an interesting relationship was formed between you and Jake E. Lee. You didn’t know each other before July 5, but it seemed like the vibe between you two was very natural.
I was talking to Jake constantly, having to smack him in the head. Every once in a while, I’d go, “Stop walking around here so fucking damn humble.” [Laughs] I told him, “You’re fucking Jake E. Lee!” Not only did he replace Randy, but he took Ozzy to another place.
Is it true that you made sure that Jake had his moment onstage without another player, kind of like the old days?
At one point, Tom Morello said, “Jake said, ‘I know Nuno has a lot on his plate, but could he maybe take the Ultimate Sin solo?’” We all know that, as legendary as Jake is, he’s struggling a little bit, as we all do as we get older and don’t know what’s going to happen to our hands and bodies.
I was supposed to play on Shot in the Dark. I didn’t tell anybody I was doing it – but I just walked off the stage. I wanted Jake to have his moment
But I told Tom, “Give me his phone number right now.” I texted Jake and told him, “You are fucking Jake E. Lee. There’s no way in hell I’m taking that solo. You’re going to play that solo. And not only that, I’ll double it with you, and we’ll do it together. Whatever happens, it’s going to be fucking incredible,” and that’s what we did.
And I was supposed to play on Shot in the Dark. I didn’t tell anybody I was doing it – but I just walked off the stage. [Laughs] I wanted Jake to have his moment without another guitar player stealing his thunder. We all came from one-guitar bands. We didn’t want rhythm guitarists. I wanted Jake to have his one moment up there by himself, so I just left. And Jake nailed it.
Is Extreme working on a follow-up to Six?
The fans made me realize, “Don’t wait too long to do another album. You’re lucky to have these fans. You’re lucky to have this opportunity of being asked to do this stuff.” And all of this stuff is happening to me at age 58. Nobody gets a second bite at the apple like that. Not with a new album, not with this kind of restart, right?
And I’m thinking to myself, “Don’t fuck this up, man. You’re lucky. You’re lucky at this age to be doing this.” I turned 59 on September 20. I’m lucky to have this opportunity. I started saying to myself, “Fuck that album [Six]. I want to up that.” That’s what we used to do. That was the game.
The only difference is that Extreme was taken for granted back then, but now you’re one of the hottest guitar tickets in the game.
The game was, “Don’t sit there and let people say they love what you did and repeat it.” It was, “You’ve gotta raise the bar for yourself every time.” Whether you do it or not doesn’t matter. But the excitement of raising the bar and being creative is what it was all about.
What does being creative mean to you?
It’s not only being creative with lead guitar, but with rhythm guitar, songwriting, melodies, harmonies, production – all of it
It’s not only being creative with lead guitar, but with rhythm guitar, songwriting, melodies, harmonies, production – all of it. We have just about 15 or 16 songs already. If touring wasn’t enough to kick you in the ass, and being among all these legends and heroes doesn’t inspire you for your next album, I don’t know what does.
Is there any gear you can’t live without?
I’m going to say it’s my hands. We know amps are important, and I’ve been playing this DSL live that I think I’ve finally locked into. But for anybody who’s chasing gear to make themselves sound better, that’s never going to happen.
You need to find pieces of gear that allow your hand to allow you to express yourself in the best way. It’s like finding a head that doesn’t tamper too much with what your hands are saying and doing and – tonally – finding pedals that don’t get in the way of that, like to where they process so much that it’s not you anymore.
The key is to find a pick that’s the right gauge and the right strings. I’ve been using GHS Boomers for, I can’t remember, like my whole life. Every time another company comes to me and says, “Do you want to do an endorsement? We can send you a bunch of strings,” I give it a shot, and I can’t even bend them correctly. They bend too far or they sound too bright or just different.
Find a string, a pedal, a pick, an amp and a speaker that best interprets you and doesn’t get in the way of the power, expression and voice that your hands have. That’s your secret weapon. The only true pedals, speakers and amps you need are your hands.
What’s the key to making a rig that feels wrong or “off” work?
You should be able to plug into a small, shitty amp or anything somebody gives you. Your hands should, at the very least, be 70 to 80 percent of who you are. Even if the amp sucks, you should still make it talk. I’ve been there. Don’t get it twisted; there are bands that know you’re coming to their gig, and they have a “second rig” for that person.
A second rig? Is that pretty standard?
It’s not the same rig as they’re playing through. I’ll tell you that right now. [Laughs] I’ve dubbed it the “punishment rig.” The one where you’re going to show up, and it’s not going to have that much distortion or sustain; the guitar has action three miles off the neck and there are no special pedals, no special sauce.
But you’re gonna have to get up there and battle it out with whatever it is. You’re gonna have to show the fuck up, no excuses. That’s when you separate the men between the boys – on the punishment rig. [Laughs]
Do you feel it took some years before people got hip to what Extreme was doing?
We had our fans, but in terms of the mainstream, we were the band that had More Than Words. We were the band that had a guitar player, but there was always something that was a little disconnected. We never had proper respect. A lot of people are saying that it wasn’t until Six that – as a band – we’re finally being respected as a rock band with a guitar player who legitimately had a great album.
Do you agree with that?
I think they’re correct because I don’t think we were ever in the conversation until that album, which is really odd to say because we had three or four rock albums already. But our songwriting, melodies, harmonies and lyrics were a lot of beautiful stuff. We always had a Queen element; that’s part of our DNA, and that almost got in the way sometimes of our rock ’n’ roll.
None of that would have happened if you had chosen a different path with Ozzy.
I think you’re right. Instinctively, inside, I knew I probably didn’t belong in Ozzy’s history. Those other guys had already carved it for themselves – and that’s a big-ass responsibility. I didn’t do it out of fear of stepping into someone else’s shoes, like coming in after Zakk Wylde. I would have been honored to do that. I just felt like I was always supposed to carve my own path.
You seem like you have a handle on who you are as a player, which surely will help you as you move forward and continue to champion guitar-driven music.
Back to the Beginning was the culmination of all of this. All these people who were in bands, and hanging with them, that’s where my place was
Back to the Beginning was the culmination of all of this. All these people who were in bands, and hanging with them, that’s where my place was. My place wasn’t just to show up and shred and do whatever.
My place was to go up and show respect. And if I got credit for people saying I was the MVP, I hope they believe it’s because I wasn’t trying to sit there, hang and be a better guitar player than any of these guys, stuff that I was playing.
I was just saying, “You know what? If I’ve got something to say here, it’s that I can walk onto this fucking stage with all the work I’ve done for my whole life because I’ve respected every element of the band.” To me, that’s my only superpower.
To be able to have the balls and the confidence to walk in – and it’s not ego, or thinking I’m the shit – and just go, “You’ve been working your whole life, respecting the music so that I can be in the company of giants, and I can fucking hang with you guys for this day.”
