37 - Sleep On A Clothesline

 

Album – Tattoo, 1973

 

For his fourth solo studio album, Rory Gallagher and band kicked things off in Cork City, Rory’s hometown. The Shandon Boat Club was hired for rehearsals , and as Dónal Gallagher put it, allowed the group to make as much noise as they wanted, with Rory able to return to his family home in the evening.

In a way, rehearsing at the Shandon Boat Club was something of a rewind for Rory. As a teenager, playing in the Fontana Showband, later renamed The Impact, Rory would have been on the bill at many shows played here and other boat clubs, as they were regular venues for local bands. There’s a tale somewhere that circa 1974, Rory stood in as guitarist as a favour to a local showband, though by that point the showband scene in Ireland was dying out.

Using the Shandon Boat Club allowed Rory to have the group rehearse material for what would be the Tattoo album thoroughly. The line-up at that point of Rod de’Ath (drums), Lou Martin (piano/keyboard) and Gerry McAvoy (bass) hadn’t been together that long, Rory adding Rod and Lou in mid-1972. However, they had toured a lot in that time, and quickly became a tight band.

The change of scene by rehearsing in Cork also seems to have added fuel to the fire, as they sound nuclear on Tattoo. Rory often faced the criticism that he couldn’t reproduce the same energy in a recording studio that his live shows had. Well, logically, of course not. There’s a massive difference between performing on stage in front of an eager crowd and recording in a studio. They are both vastly different environments. And it doesn’t detract from the quality of music on the studio albums. If anything, on Tattoo, what you hear is a group of tightly meshed musicians whose playing grabs you.

The album, released on 11 November 1973, was one in which the critics saw a broadening of Rory’s songwriting. It’s also the one recommended to many new fans as a good starting point in Rory’s music. While it contains two songs that would become two of his classics, ‘Tattoo’d Lady’ and ‘A Million Miles Away’, there are several other gems to be found.

‘Sleep On A Clothesline’ takes its title from a well worn idiom that you feel so tired you could, well, sleep on a clothesline. It can be traced back to when the homeless, too poor to pay for a bed for the night but having enough money to not have to sleep rough, would pay for a spot in a room where a rope was stretched from wall to wall. You would sit on a bench, shared with others paying a similar fee, and sleep sitting up, resting against the rope. Mention of it can be found in George Orwell’s Down and Out in Paris and London.

A classic example of any photo to be found in a school history textbook

It seems like the kind of evocative image that would spark the imagination, and it certainly did just that for Rory. With the extensive touring he did, sleep was something that could be hard to come by, sometimes being up for a few days on the go. Rory was also an insomniac, so would stay up well into the wee hours. He must have felt so tired that at times he could probably have slept anywhere that seemed comfortable.

He puts this to able use in the song. ‘Sleep On A Clothesline’ lyrically smacks of the strange tinge of the world of the sleep deprived, with a quiet tinge of desperation and frustration of a man looking all over the place, exhausted, for his other half, who’s apparently wandered off the face of the earth. It’s similar to the plight of the protagonist in Elvis Presley’s ‘Kentucky Rain’, who has taken it to the next level after waking up to find his lover gone and been searching for days non-stop since. Though while Elvis’ is a slice of Southern melancholia, Rory’s is a rocker, yet it still manages to retain a sense of urgency, the lyrics showing that there’s a bit more anger and frustration at the wanderlust by the girlfriend, which comes across in the vocals and guitar, as well as the lyrics.

Like ‘Kentucky Rain’, we don’t see any resolution for the searching man in ‘Sleep On A Clothesline’. For all we know, he’s still out there looking. It’s a great piece of short fiction wrapped up in a song.

36 - Hell Cat

 

Album: Top Priority, 1979, Stage Struck, 1980

Top Priority, which came out on 16 September 1979, features what could be classed as many classics of Rory Gallagher’s oeuvre, including ‘Bad Penny’, ‘Wayward Child’, ‘Follow Me’ and ‘Philby’. Recorded at Dieter Dierks studios just outside Cologne, it was the second and last studio album Ted McKenna worked on with Rory.

In the songs, Rory touches upon certain things in his life. In ‘Hell Cat’, a song that doesn’t seem to have been extensive in his live repertoire, though it does appear on the 1980 live album, Stage Struck,  we see Rory take an eerier turn. On the notes on the official Rory website for Top Priority, Dónal writes that it’s a spooky song in which, Rory explores his superstitious side and wonders if he might be jinxed. Rory’s superstition is something that has been written about, becoming more pronounced later on in life. Taken along with the themes of other songs in the album, fear of flying, stresses of life on the road, wistfulness for the future, as well as superstition, and the hardboiled detective and cold war spies, Top Priority is certainly an album that can be described as something of an onion with many layers.

‘Hell Cat’ is certainly an interesting song to explore. It’s something of a departure from what Rory usually writes about in his songs. Musically, with its opening riff, sliding into a jaunty blues rock of the sort any fan happily dances about to probably when they think no one is watching. However, the rocking guitar, bass, drums and vocal are a rather clever cover. This isn’t just another clever slice of rock. Listen closely to the lyrics and you seem to be falling closer to the realms of Shirley Jackson.

The lyrics to ‘Hell Cat’ can best be described as a horror story, that describes the increasing intensity and ever pervasiveness of a nasty haunting to a tee. And it’s a very clever turn by Rory as a lyricist, who has essentially written a rather terrifying horror story of being stalked by a demon spewed from the pits of hell. Certainly one for those who enjoy a good scare. Rory Gallagher is the last musician you might think could scare the wiggins out of you as a songwriter, but with ‘Hell Cat’, he proves very effective at it, yet more proof that he is a wildly underrated songwriter:


Well, there's a strange, strange feeling chilling your hands
A shadow in your doorway, freeze you where you stand
You play your dice with the Devil, now it's much too late

Well, don't you know you got a hell cat on your trail
Well, don't you know you got a hell cat on your trail


The themes of nasty, other worldly creatures are not something unfamiliar to the Blues. Robert Johnson was perhaps the most famous proponent of it, helped exceedingly by the legend that he sold his soul to the devil at the crossroads in exchange for becoming an excellent guitarist. Fuel to the fire is added by the fact that no sooner had Johnson started his career, he was dead. The story goes that he was poisoned by the jealous husband of a woman he was over friendly with. Or that the devil had come to collect what was owed.

Legend aside, Johnson also featured the supernatural in some of his songs in a similar manner to Rory in ‘Hell Cat’. In ‘Hell Hound On My Trail’, Johnson is also like  a man pursued by something from hell, though he gives more prominence in his lyrics to the way in which the everyday mundane, such as his lover, might help him escape. Rory, on the other hand, gives his song over to the full horror of the entity, though both songs indicate that there is no escape. Interestingly, Rory mentioned in one interview that listening to Robert Johnson terrified him.

 

Blues aside, there is also some hell cats to be found in Irish folklore and ghost stories, which it’s probably a fair bet Rory might have heard of. In County Roscommon, there is The Cave Of Cats, or Oweynagat, reputed to be the Gateway To Hell. As noted in the Ulster Cycle, Queen Medb tests Irish heroes, including the famous Cú Chulainn, by releasing three hell cats from the cave, the end result of which, is that Cú Chulainn is the last one of the heroes left alive. 

Then there is the Black Cat of Killakee. This a monstrous ghostly, or possibly demonic, cat, whose large apparition was seen at Killakee House near Rathfarnham in County Dublin. The house also has ties to the infamous Hellfire Club of Dublin. And there is a rather unsettling portrait of the Black Cat painted by an artist who witnessed the apparition. ‘Hell Cat’ certainly does make the appropriate soundtrack!

Ann Massey McElroy goes into detail on both tales on the Spooky Isles website, which are highly recommended reading, while listening to the end of Top Priority. Perhaps while clutching a teddy bear.

Further reading:

Robert Johnson Crossroads legend

Debunking the Robert Johnson legend

Ann Massey McElroy on Spooky Isles: Cave of Cats (Second tale in article) 

Ann Massey McElroy in Spooky Isles: The Black Cat Of Killakee

 

35 - Special - Review – All Around Man – Live In London

 

There’s no telling what treasures might be found in archives. Rory Gallagher’s is a case in point. In a recent article in the Irish Examiner, it was noted that Rory’s archive consists of over 1,000 tapes, amongst which was one simply marked T&C – that has now been released as the new live album, All Around Man – Live In London. The reasons why it was recorded are something of a mystery, but we can nonetheless be glad it was, as it captures a brilliant set of performances from the Town and Country Club, Kentish Town, London on 28 and 29 December 1990, from the Fresh Evidence Tour.

There are people who cast doubt on this, and the other Rory releases put out in recent years, arguing Rory wouldn’t have put them out himself. But at the end of the day, can you really say that for sure? A key point here, this is Rory’s closest family members overseeing the releases. It’s not some blink corporate cash in, with little to no input from loved ones. Such was the case with the work Jeff Buckley had recorded for a second album, which he was working on at the time of his drowning in the Wolf River in Memphis on 29 May 1997. His label were rolling ahead to release what had already been recorded, when a band member contacted Jeff’s mother, Mary Guibert, who immediately stepped in.

Dónal Gallagher worked closely with his brother from the very start (I think we can count from the days of childhood, when they started by duetting on stage, until that moment 9-year-old Dónal stopped during his solo turn on ‘A Scottish Soldier’ to inform 11-year-old Rory there was no guitar in that particular verse and was promptly sacked!). Arguably, there is no one better placed when it comes to knowing Rory. Dónal has done an admirable job of keeping the flag flying since Rory’s death in 1995. Today, Rory Gallagher is very popular, with a much younger generation falling in love with the man and his music. Credit is also due to Rory’s nephew, Dónal’s son Daniel, who has overseen the recent releases and pretty much everything else Rory related. Eoin Gallagher, Dónal’s eldest son, has also done sterling work scanning in visual archive material on album booklets, which any fan worth their salt would drool over. There is also close contact between the family and the fans, the overall effect being a personal touch not afforded to many late artists.

Another reason why All Around Man is important is the fact that Rory’s later career has all too easily been dismissed. By the time of Fresh Evidence, Rory had been struggling with his health for a while. Unfortunately, this has led to a lot of negativity about his abilities, state of mind and even physical appearance, with the result that his later work has been somewhat neglected. But ill health does not negate talent. As this new live album shows, he still had it and in droves. His songwriting also retained its usual high standard and was maturing with age. It’s safe to say he was developing in a new direction, something which had happened a few times in his career as he progressed as a musician. This album is vital in shining a light on a period that needs to be re-examined without all the ableist bullshit. What we have here is a man who was suffering, but he went out there and not only did it but did it to the high standard he had kept throughout his entire career. That takes guts, and if there is one thing you can say about Rory Gallagher, it is that he was a man of immense strength. Could any of the nay sayers of his later career do the same if the shoe was on their foot? I kind of doubt it.

As for the album itself, put the thing on and the sound will knock you off your feet. The band is tight, and Rory is on fire. It’s a fantastic introduction to Rory’s later material, which also hasn’t previously had the live album treatment and showcases his later songs as classics in the true Gallagher tradition. He often mentioned in interviews ‘the Rory Gallagher song.’ The uninitiated can have their socks blown off by ‘Heaven’s Gate,’ ‘The King Of Zydeco,’ ‘Continental Op,’‘Kid Gloves’ and ‘Ghost Blues’ to name but a few.

Some classics remain – for instance, when you don’t think the man can possibly do it again, surely with ‘Tattoo’d Lady,’ he actually goes and does it again. The same can be said of ‘Moonchild,’ ‘Shadow Play’ and ‘Shin Kicker’. Meanwhile, permanent live set fixtures, such as ‘Bullfrog Blues’ and ‘Messin’ With The Kid’ continue to blow away, with the added strength that almost 30 years’ experience has to offer. The acoustic section Rory is also famous for remains with ‘Out On The Western Plain,’ ‘Ride On Red, Ride On,’ ‘Walkin’ Blues’ and ‘Empire State Express’ – all blues classics with Rory very much showing his chops as a bluesman.

The album also offers a look at Rory with key band members who haven’t had the same level of exposure on his live albums, like for instance, Lou Martin and Rod de’Ath have. Brendan O’Neill joined the Rory Gallagher Band on drums in 1981 and had the longest tenure of all the drummers in the band. It’s about time Brendan’s work with Rory was given more notice. Listening to him here, his drumming is incredible. Mark Feltham joined Rory on harmonica in 1984 and also deserves the showcase this album provides. He segues in seamlessly with Rory’s guitar to the extent that he actually seems like an extension of the guitar! It’s often said that he and Rory had a strong bond. If there is more with Brendan and Mark in Rory’s archives, yes please!

So if you still have your knitting in a knot over Rory’s later career, do yourself a favour and get this. And if you haven’t touched Defender and Fresh Evidence yet, wrap them around your ears as an aperitif. Rory Gallagher in 1990 is just as vital as Rory Gallagher in 1973.

 

34 - I Could've Had Religion

 

I Could've Had Religion, The Marquee, 1972

Album – Live! In Europe, 1972

See also – Deuce 50^th Anniversary box set, Radio Bremen version.

 

He wanted his next album to be a live album and it made the executives at Polydor somewhat twitchy – a live album wasn’t quite the stuff of hit material. But then again, Rory Gallagher wasn’t exactly bidding pop idol material about to get the right haircut, the right clothes, drape himself in supermodels and mime on Top Of The Pops. He recorded performances of his European tour of February and March 1972, releasing them as Live! In Europe on 14 May that year.

It didn’t get him on Top Of The Pops, and then there’s the tale of Rory’s less than positive response to the exec who presented him with an edited version (not edited  by Rory!) of ‘Going To My Hometown,’ declaring it to be a hit single. But Live! In Europe was his biggest charting album of all three of his solo albums at that point and it is still spoken of in hallowed tones by a host of highly respected successful musicians who regard it as a seminal influence.

Outside of ‘Going To My Hometown’, ‘I Could’ve Had Religion’ is one of the legendary songs off the album. Bob Dylan had planned to include it on one of his albums in the early 1990s and requested a copy of Live! In Europe, which he was sent with a copy of the then most recent album Fresh Evidence. As it was, Dylan never used the song. When asked why when he caught up with Rory at the 1994 Montreux Festival, Dylan replied that he thought it was an old traditional song, not realising that Rory had written it himself.

Rory had found the verses that he expanded into ‘I Could’ve Had Religion’ in a poetry book, and to that end, apparently regarded it as a traditional number. He thought Dylan should have recorded it anyway, but Dylan didn’t want to take the song away from Rory. Being a massive Dylan fan, Rory probably would have been delighted if it had been used by the American legend.

It’s easy to see why Dylan took the song as part of the traditional cannon. It has all the hallmarks of an old blues song: a man done wrong by a woman on the road to some personal hell, who originally was aiming for a life in the church. Interestingly, in the hey day of the country blues, the church regarded the music as being from hell itself. There were many bluesmen caught up in the juxtaposition, with Eddie ‘Son’ House perhaps being a famous case. He was a preacher at one point but fell back into the blues. His singing style was thought to have been influenced by his time as a preacher.

It's also astounding that the song was put together by a 23-year-old. Rory had a very strong faith himself and was a practicing Catholic. It’s mere supposition, but perhaps the themes of  blues allowed him to explore another side of life from a safe vantage point. Unlike many of his peers, Rory hadn’t fallen prey to the sexual mores and drugs that beset the music industry of the late 1960s and early 1970s. He had probably witnessed enough of that chaos to be able to channel it into a classic blues song of his own.

As good as it was, ‘I Could’ve Had Religion’ doesn’t seem to have remained in Rory’s live repertoire beyond the early 1970s. But decades later, in the 1990s, it made a return to Rory’s set and the passing of time only seems to have added to its potency. The guitar sound became even more wretched and angry, with Mark Feltham’s otherworldly harmonica giving it an added dimension. At the 1994 Montreux Festival – that same one where he met Dylan again – Rory also adds to the lyrics something that could only have been gleaned from lived experience. This later version comes across as one that is truly spoken from the heart. Rory did have the odd penchant at times to cook up new lyrics seemingly on the spot as he played live. This is no exception and perhaps for him, an incredibly shy and reserved person offstage, it was a way in which he could safely express what was on his mind.

I Could've Had Religion, Montreux 1994