What’s Next for a Good-Time Rock Guitarist?

PHOTO BY BECKY THURNER BRADDOCK

Acclaimed guitarist Reb Beach has shredded on stages from Japan to Finland, Greece to Puerto Rico — and literally thousands of different venues in the United States and England.

When he’s at home, though, he prefers the familiar haunts of Oakmont.

“Oakmontians basically stay in Oakmont,” Beach says. “I’m kind of like Norm on ‘Cheers.’ I walk into Hoffstot’s and hear, ‘Hey, Reb!’ Everybody knows me. People even know me driving down the street — they yell out of their cars.”

PHOTO BY BECKY THURNER BRADDOCK

The easygoing suburban enclave is a far cry from legendary venues like the fabled Rainbow Bar and Grill on Santa Monica Boulevard, where Beach has played dozens of times. He was last on the Rainbow stage on Aug. 31, in what was billed as the final gig for his most consistent outfit: Winger, the hard-rock heroes known for their radio hits as well as their lineup of skilled players. Beach has been with Winger, barring a handful of hiatuses, since 1987; now, Beach says, frontman Kip Winger is ready to move on from singing well-remembered but somewhat chronologically inappropriate lyrics.

“He was nominated for a Grammy for his classical album,” Beach explains. “He’s way more into doing that than … singing stuff that’s way up there [vocally]. He sings ‘She’s Only 17,’ and he’s 64. He doesn’t really want to do that anymore.”

The show at the Rainbow — and an Aug. 8 show at Pittsburgh Brewing Co.’s outdoor stage in Creighton, where they opened for Joan Jett — capped a 21st-century comeback for Winger. The group were music-video darlings at the height of the MTV era, complete with Beach appearing on trading cards, but became a “Beavis and Butthead” punchline in the age of grunge.

“Our third album, [1993’s “Pull,”] came out, which was arguably our best record. And ‘Beavis and Butthead’ came out with a character wearing a Winger T-shirt … Every episode, they made fun of him. Instantly, people stopped coming to Winger shows.”

At the time, Beach sold a home in Florida and moved back to the Pittsburgh area, settling just a few miles from his hometown of Fox Chapel.

He wouldn’t be at rest for long. At one point or another, he’s been a member of Whitesnake, Dokken, Night Ranger, the touring band for Alice Cooper and others; he’s recorded with dozens more artists, from fellow MTV darlings including Twisted Sister to unlikely bedfellows such as the Bee Gees and Chaka Khan.

Then, starting in 2002, Winger reformed and hit the road again. “I wrote those songs. I know them inside and out; I can play them in my sleep. I don’t even have to think about them; it’s like an old pair of jeans,” Beach says.

Without the posturing of the disaffected ’90s to interrupt things, fans eagerly returned. “That’s what people want to hear — they want to hear the songs that they know … It’s great playing in a club when you’ve got all those people singing along.”

While the unfamiliar may see Beach’s resume and imagine a string of power chords, his musicianship elevates his reputation. “I think a lot of guitarists that are his contemporaries in the metal [and] guitar-shredder world are capable and adept at other styles, but Reb is one of those guys who can effortlessly change hats and excel playing blues, Americana, rock ’n’ roll and jazz — as well as Whitesnake and Dokken,” says Randy Baumann, host of the “DVE Morning Show.” “His playing always seems a very natural extension of his sensibilities and never overly technical. His fluidity as a guitarist is astounding.”

Since the turn of the century, he’s been putting out records under his own name — 2002’s “Masquerade” is a style-hopping journey — and as The Reb Beach Project, a collection of fellow virtuosos.

Now, he says, he’s working on instrumental music that melds progressive rock, jazz and dozens of other flavors in a fusion melting pot. He released the well-received instrumental album “A View From the Inside” in 2020.

“I’ve always been the guy that plays the ’80s songs, with that ’80s stamp on my head. But if I could get more into the instrumental thing,” Beach says, “[it would] be a whole other market for me … People really seem to like watching me and listening to me play guitar.”

Unless, of course, the road — or some monsters of rock — come calling.

“Who knows — I could get a call from another band and go out on tour,” he says. “If I get a big tour, baby, I’m on it … Get me out on the road, stick me on a bus, get me a hotel. I’m happy. That’s where I’m the happiest.”