These 21 Guitarists in Anime Made Me Miss My First Electric Guitar

Kyoka is one of my favorite “quiet talent” characters. She’s training to be a hero, sure—but the guitar is where I feel her confidence really shows up. The school festival arc hits harder because she doesn’t just perform; she commits.

I’ve always liked Tuesday because her guitar feels like her safety blanket. She’s nervous, sheltered, and unsure—until she’s holding her instrument. Then the tone shifts. The confidence isn’t loud, but it’s steady.

Mafuyu is the kind of guitarist I can’t talk about casually because I’ll spiral into feelings. His relationship with the guitar isn’t about showing off—it’s about learning how to speak when words don’t work.

I’ve seen a lot of “music saves me” stories, but Given lands for me because the growth feels earned. Awkward. Slow. Real.

Ray is one of the most “guitarist-coded” characters in anime history, and I mean that with full respect. He has the skill, the attitude, the mess, and that deep bond with his instrument.

Also, I appreciate that Beck doesn’t pretend band life is clean. With Ray, it’s always the good and the bad in the same chord.

Koyuki is my favorite kind of protagonist: the one who starts from nowhere and becomes someone through repetition, embarrassment, and stubborn practice. I’ve always found him motivating because he doesn’t become great by magic—he becomes great by showing up.

Yoshiyuki is the “all business” guitarist, and I respect the commitment. He’s intense, focused, and initially kind of difficult—but I like that the story lets the band chemistry evolve instead of snapping into place overnight.

Okay. I’m counting Gajeel because I’m honest about what makes me laugh.

He’s the guy who’s convinced he’s a rock god… and the universe refuses to cooperate. It’s also a reminder that anime guitarists don’t have to be “good” to be memorable. Sometimes they’re iconic because they’re a trainwreck with confidence.

And yes, the Fairy Tail guild is stacked with unique personality quirks. Gajeel just decides his quirk is “bad guitar and even worse vocals.”

Iwasawa hits me right in the “music as survival” nerve. Her backstory is rough, and the guitar becomes her outlet—the one place she gets to control the noise.

Also, I’m a sucker for a band name with attitude. Girls Dead Monster fits the afterlife setting way too well.

Sonico is an interesting case for me: she’s iconic as a character design, but she’s also genuinely committed to music and band life in her own world. I like her best when the story leans into her dedication instead of treating her like a poster.

Gakuganji is my kind of “wait, what?” entry. He’s not here to front a band—he’s here to fight with cursed energy and an amp. The first time I saw that technique, I laughed, and then I immediately respected the commitment to the bit.

Haruko is chaos with strings. I don’t watch FLCL expecting realism—I watch it because it feels like somebody turned adolescence into feedback and motion blur.

And yes, she swings that guitar like it’s a weapon… because it basically is.

Cyan is adorable, but I don’t keep her on this list because she’s cute. I keep her here because she’s the “shy kid with a loud dream” archetype done in a way that stays fun. Her guitar is basically her permission slip to be brave.

Nobuo isn’t my pick for “most technical.” He’s my pick for “most lovable.” I’m always drawn to musicians who choose the hard road—working, struggling, staying independent—because that choice says a lot about their character.

Akira is ridiculous in the most JoJo way possible. He’s a villain, he’s theatrical, and he treats the electric guitar like it’s part of the performance of being evil.

And honestly? I respect the commitment to “combat, but make it a concert.”

This one cracks me up because the premise is basically “I want to be soft-pop, but my rent says death metal.” As a guitarist, he’s legitimately skilled. As a person, he’s constantly fighting his own stage persona.

I like him because it’s a brutally honest look at what “performing” can do to someone—especially when the mask becomes the job.

Azusa is the responsible guitarist I wish I’d been at sixteen. She joins a club full of lovable chaos and becomes the anchor. I’ve always enjoyed that dynamic because it’s realistic: one serious musician can raise the whole room.

Yui is the reason I never roll my eyes at beginner guitar arcs. She starts from “what is a chord?” and becomes legitimately capable through enthusiasm and repetition. I’ve always found that charming because it mirrors the way a lot of people actually learn: messy, joyful, and stubborn.

Nana is pure stage gravity. She doesn’t just play guitar—she leads with it. Her style is punk, her presence is sharp, and her songs feel like she’s handing the audience her actual heart and daring them to look away.

Ibuki is chaos, talent, and volume. I love her as a concept because she’s the extreme version of the “music can move people” idea—sometimes in ways that are unsettling.

She’s not subtle. She’s not calm. And that’s exactly why she’s memorable.

Haruhi’s school festival performance is one of those moments I still see referenced constantly—and for good reason. She doesn’t approach music with humility. She approaches it like the universe owes her a stage.

And weirdly? That confidence is infectious.

Hoshi is the “famous musician who disappears” fantasy turned sideways. I like his story because it pokes at the idea that success automatically equals artistic fulfillment. He walks away from the industry to protect the music.

Also, the star mask is unforgettable. It’s equal parts privacy, persona, and performance art.