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

33 - Whole Lot Of People

 

Album: Deuce (1972)

Rory Gallagher found himself in something of a baptism by fire in 1971. The year started with him recoiling from the bitter split of Taste and dealing with the various bits of red tape arising from that, while trying to launch his solo career. At the same time, he was putting together a new band and, after auditioning Jimi Hendrix’s old rhythm section of Noel Redding and Mitch Mitchell, he opted to go with bassist Gerry McAvoy and drummer Wilgar Campbell, both of the Belfast group Deep Joy, who split not long after Taste broke up.

With his eponymous debut album, Rory hadn’t had the chance to take his new band out on the road. This was a different kettle of fish when it came to the follow-up, Deuce. By this point, the group had several gigs under their belt. They were even touring when Deuce was being recorded, coming to the Tangerine Studios after shows, with an aim of capturing the fire of the Rory Gallagher live performance. Deuce not only captured this energy, but it also captured the fact that Rory had regained his confidence after the experience of the chaotic Taste split. In essence, he perhaps regained faith in his ability as a musician. Deuce, released on 28 November 1971, is one of his most highly regarded albums, and seen as a good entry point for those who are new to his work.

It was the first time Rory worked with engineer Robin Sylvester, who was the in-house engineer at Tangerine Studios. He had started as a musician during the 1960s, becoming an engineer in 1969 and was one of the assistants at Abbey Road when The Beatles recorded the Abbey Road album. Robin took up bass after being inspired to do so by Paul McCartney. Rory found him an excellent person to work with, and Robin would subsequently work on Live In Europe, Irish Tour and Against The Grain. The relationship with Rory would continue when Robin’s band supported Rory on tour. Shortly before the time of writing, it was sadly announced that Robin had passed away. He appears to have had that rare quality – someone Rory trusted to get the sound he wanted without too much supervision!

One of the aspects of Deuce most commented on is the strength of Rory’s slide guitar. A notable track is ‘Whole Lot Of People'. It’s a fiery song. The recent 50th anniversary release of Deuce offers a great insight into how it was built up. Hearing it on acoustic in an alternate take 1, you would think it might be vastly different to the final electric version on the album. However, while it does have a classic folky feel, thanks to the acoustic, it still retains its fire and is instantly recognisable. It has a nice solo that is a pleasant addition to the endless list of epic Rory Gallagher moments. This version would have equally held its own as a definitive version on the album. The other versions offered on the Deluxe 50th anniversary release are also acoustic, with yet more gorgeous soloing. Is it possible that Rory originally envisioned it as an acoustic track before going electric?

With all that said, the electric version that we are more familiar with fits perfectly with the lyrics. Rory said in one interview he didn’t see the point in him writing a political song, though he acknowledged it was something other musicians did. Of course, being Irish and the Troubles being at their height, it was a topic Rory was asked about at times. He was very well versed on the politics, though it and his music were kept apart. One thing Rory does remain famous for is the fact that he was one of the few artists who would play in Belfast in the early 1970s. His shows at the Ulster Hall in Belfast are the stuff of legend – and a statue in his honour is planned to be erected there, though it has been delayed by the Covid-19 pandemic. However, with ‘Whole Lot Of People,’ Dónal Gallagher notes on the official Rory website:

“The sharpness of this playing masks the lyrics of the politics of the then emerging and troubled ‘new‘ Ireland.”

Of course, fans can and will attach their own meaning to a song that is utterly at variance with what the composer originally intended. Music is, at the end of the day, an immensely subjective experience, and the lyrics of ‘Whole Lot Of People’ are powerful:

A whole lot of people talking, trying to make sense

Seems everybody's living on a barbed wire fence

Whole lotta people too proud to call

'Cause it won't get no help at all

Everybody's waiting for the good news day

But it seems so far away

Wonder if it's ever gonna come

'Cause the way it's been the restless one

With Rory, his songs are also seen as an insight into his deeper feelings, that he was reluctant to air by talking about them. Dónal, however, does offer a valuable take as one of the people closest to Rory.

RIP Robin Sylvester, 1950 - 2022

Find out more about Rory playing Belfast during the Troubles click here. 

32 - Special - Deuce 50th Anniversary Edition.

Another Rory milestone is upon us – the 50th anniversary of his second solo album, Deuce, and Daniel Gallagher has worked his magic in putting together another anniversary package.

Like the last 50th anniversary release, that of Rory’s eponymously titled debut, the Deuce 50th anniversary release comes in a deluxe edition in both vinyl and CD, which also includes a 60-page book packed with photos and behind the scenes tales. There is also a separate vinyl release (emerald green no less!) of live BBC performances. And finally, a more condensed set on vinyl and CD, which, as one fan put it on Facebook, is great for those simply after the music.

Deuce has endured as one of Rory’s most popular solo albums. He seems to have suddenly exploded in terms of his capabilities. In the booklet for the anniversary release, his brother Dónal states that, following the messy split of Taste, and having gone straight into the studio with a new band in the form of Gerry McAvoy on bass and Wilgar Campbell on drums, by the time work on Deuce started, Rory now had had the time to play live, and get his confidence back. Part of what Rory wished to achieve on this second album was to capture the energy of his live shows.

At the time, he was still touring in support of his first album. After shows, he took the band back to the studio and they worked late in the night. The studio to which they repaired was the Tangerine Studios in Dalston, London, which had been built in the 1960s by producer Joe Meek. The studio came with engineer Roy Sylvester, who was to work with Rory on subsequent albums. Sharing the building with the studio was a bingo hall. There were few issues in the initial recording sessions owing to them happening late at night, but it was a different story when it came to mixing, mastering, and adding the finishing touches to Deuce. Sessions then had to take place in regular daytime hours, when of course, there was a bingo session on the go next door, and the wall between bingo hall and studio lacked substantially in the soundproofing department.

On some of the album, famously, the calls of the hall were picked up on the recording – and can be heard if you listen carefully. However, it appears that it was Rory himself who caused more issues. The famously mild-mannered guitarist, according to the booklet in the anniversary release, terrified the elderly bingo fans with his guitar, leaving his wee brother to placate the owners of the bingo hall. It’s not the first time Rory’s guitar playing had terrified the unsuspecting according to legend. Growing up in Cork, he and his family lived above the small bar owned by his grandmother, and he would apparently put the wind up those trying to enjoy a quiet pint with the noise that came from his amplifier when he plugged in his electric guitar!

The sheer volume he was capable of is apparent in the new 50th anniversary release. His guitar (presumably the Strat!) sits front and centre of the recordings. Rory’s ability as a slide guitarist really comes to the fore on Deuce – many have mentioned how astounding he is on ‘Crest Of A Wave.’ The new set also gives a fantastic insight into how he and the band built up the songs. We range from acoustic versions of songs we are more familiar with as electric, there is the behind-the-scenes studio banter as they get things going – as well as the odd happy cry of 'HOUSE’ coming from the bingo hall, perhaps followed by a frustrated expletive from Gerry.

There are several things in here that will please fans for many reasons. We could be here all day listing them, but really, everyone will have their own take. For me, two particular stand outs are the home demos and the Radio Bremen recordings. The home demos feel like you are getting a rare insight into a very private man. Here is Rory by himself getting his new songs down on tape, and frankly, it is gold for fans. The one that particularly strikes me is the demo of ‘Maybe I Will’ – because it is in stark contrast to how we are used to him playing, which is usually loud! This time he is quiet, and you really have to listen. It’s a very intimate recording.

The Radio Bremen tracks are nothing short of amazing. I directed a friend to one, and he was knocked out by the bass playing, which is heavy kudos to the then 19-year-old Gerry, who at that point had received some po-faced comments in the music press from some reviewers that he wasn’t up to much as a bassist. He was quite the opposite – to be able to keep up with Rory, you wouldn’t have gotten very far otherwise.

It also seems that these 50th anniversary releases are casting a very welcome spotlight onto Wilgar Campbell. It feels like, because he left fairly early on in Rory’s career, he perhaps has been somewhat neglected when it comes to appreciation of Rory’s drummers. But the focus on Rory’s early solo albums is showing that Wilgar was an immensely talented and versatile drummer, who already had a proven track record.

For those on streaming, the full four disc set of the deluxe edition of the Deuce 50th anniversary is available on Spotify.

31 - Going To My Hometown

Album: Live In Europe (1972)

See also: Irish Tour ’74 (1974), Wheels Within Wheels (2003), Irish Tour ’74 40th anniversary (2014), Check Shirt Wizard (2020)

Rory Gallagher’s brother Dónal once told the story of what happened when the record company took it upon themselves to do a cut of ‘Going To My Hometown’ from the Live In Europe album without letting Rory know so they could show him how the song could work as a single. The effect on the famously quiet natured Rory was incendiary: as Dónal described it, Rory went through the roof, and apparently took the label executive with him!

It has often been discussed how releasing singles could have boosted Rory’s career, got him regular radio play and regular chart appearances. There is probably merit to that argument, but on the other hand, would we have the Rory Gallagher as many of us know and love today? Perhaps not. Any compromises could have completely shifted the game, and it’s an oft mentioned warning what standing on a tiny insect could do to history should someone go time travelling. Rory was very much anti-single for many reasons.

In the Irish Tour film, he says, “I don’t regard myself as a Top 20 musician at all, even though I could write a Top 20 song, but I wouldn’t. I don’t think that’s important, you know. It’s a pity, I think a lot of people might see me and see me on the television, on the screen, and without listening, they turn it off and might think ‘He’s a Top Of The Pops man’, they wouldn’t…Sometimes appearances and songs are not what they seem to be. I just want to be able to continue playing. Want to be able to buy a bar of chocolate in a shop if I want to or go into a bar and have a pint without being besieged all the time. Just want to have an ordinary kind of walking down the streets without being recognised sort of life. Of course, if someone comes over and says, ‘How’re you doing, Rory?’ that’s fine. But I don’t want to get into the Rolls Royce, the mansion and the cloak and dagger style of living.”

In other words, perhaps releasing singles as he saw it opened him up to the kind of major rock star life that was not for him. There is a sense in listening to this and seeing him discuss the matter in other interviews that he felt it would take him away from who he really was, and ultimately, how he wanted his music to be. Rory was regarded as a tad stubborn by many for this, who argued he could have taken his career in so many different ways, but he is also respected for sticking to his guns in an industry that takes the talent, strips away the essence and presents something instantly marketable. And of course, disposable and of the moment. Not something you could say about Rory Gallagher, who has something of the timeless about him.

Of course, “Going To My Hometown” is not just another, could have been single. It’s one of the most popular songs in Rory’s canon. It was never recorded in a studio, but first made its appearance on 1972’s Live In Europe album, released on 14 May 1972. Starting off with Rory accompanying himself on mandolin, it literally brought the house down, as the song grew in crescendo with the rest of the band gradually joining in, with an elated crowd stomping and clapping along in unison. It was also a song mooted as a duet with Lonnie Donegan, Rory’s childhood hero, though as things worked out, they never managed to record it in the studio for any of Donegan’s albums, but there is a live version of the two duetting on the song on Rory’s posthumous 2003 Wheels Within Wheels album.

'Going To My Hometown’ is a classic folky number, the main theme of which is the story of a young guy who has left home to work in a factory, mostly likely a Ford plant. But it doesn’t quite have a happy ending for him, despite the fact there is now a girlfriend and love in his life. This is one homesick lad who just wants to get back to the home turf. And he may or may not get back to the girl!

The day I left,

You know the rain was pouring down.

The day I left,

You know the rain was pouring down.

I'm going home again baby,

I believe the sun's gonna come on out.

Let's go home, boy, let's go home.

Yes I'm going to my hometown,

You know baby I gotta go.

Going to my hometown,

You know I just have to go.

I really love you, woman,

I'll see you in a year, maybe no, maybe yes.

Played live, the song quickly turned into a call and response, with Rory asking the audience “Do you wanna go!” and getting an enthusiastic “Yes!” back – clearly a crowd who would go anywhere with him!

30 - The Mississippi Sheiks

 

July 1978 saw Rory Gallagher in the studios with Gerry McAvoy and new drummer Ted McKenna working on the Photo Finish album, so-called because of a tight deadline brought about by Rory scrapping previous work recorded in San Francisco and then recovery from a broken thumb. The album was handed in just in the nick of time!

The album, as mentioned previously in this blog, was recorded at Dieter Dierks’ studio just outside Cologne and provided a congenial atmosphere to work in. Ted McKenna said, “It took us two weeks to do the backing tracks. I remember doing a lot of takes, and Rory would take his time choosing the one he thought had the magic. It was a great studio, and an enjoyable experience altogether.”

A new line up seems to have given Rory a boost. Photo Finish, released on 1 October 1978 (certainly giving proof to the pudding that it indeed just made the deadline!), is a joy to listen to and one of my personal favourites. Rory was asked in one interview promoting the album if he had been getting singing lessons, much to his surprise. But it is a fair question. His vocals on this are especially strong.

Photo Finish takes the listener on many journeys, from the murky world of ‘Shadow Play,’ the heartbreak of ‘Fuel To The Fire’ to a band causing unrest in a quiet, small town, presumably somewhere in the boonies, by playing a show there in ‘Brute, Force and Ignorance’. Rory even includes a touch of time-travel in ‘The Mississippi Sheiks,’ which is without a doubt, the song of a blues devotee. The song beautifully captures the notion of slipping back in time to the early twentieth century when most of his blues heroes were working, many earning a few dollars playing in the street, as well as in juke joints and fish fry parties.

It was a history that Rory certainly absorbed in learning as much as he could about the blues. For anyone with an interest in the blues, he is certainly a good teacher. Interviews have him answering questions about his influences, and the answers he gave ranged along Muddy Waters, Buddy Guy, Howlin’ Wolf and Skip James. He covered songs by Bukka White, Blind Boy Fuller, Son House, and Lead Belly, making his own mark on them. In a less serious interview, he was asked who his ideal date was – Memphis Minnie! It is probably not much surprise he wrote a song like ‘The Mississippi Sheiks.’ You could certainly go no wrong by metaphorically accepting his invitation to “… come along with me, back to the southern streets.”

The namesakes of the song itself comprises of a guitar and fiddle country blues band from Mississippi, popular during the 1930s. The core of the group comprised of the Chatmon family, Armenter Chatmon, Lonnie Chatmon, and Sam Chatmon, as well as Walter Vinson, and Papa Charlie McCoy. The Mississippi Sheiks’ most famous song is ‘Sitting On Top Of The World’ from 1930, which was covered by many artists, including a Rory favourite, Bob Dylan. The group made their final recording in 1935. Armenter was better known as Bo Carter, He was mostly a part-time member, with a successful solo career outside the group, eventually leaving the band altogether. He is particularly known for sexually suggestive songs, one of which was also covered by Rory, ‘All Around Man,’ which is #10 in this blog. It’s thought that Carter was the half-brother of the legendary Charley Patton, a strong influence on Howlin’ Wolf, but as with most things in blues history, that’s not a definite!

Peg Leg Howell is the other name Rory sees in his blues-tinged fantasy. Hailing from Eatonton, Georgia, Howell picked up guitar aged twenty-one and often played in the streets of Atlanta, with a side line in bootlegging. He recorded for Columbia, but his career faded after the mid-1930s, with very few performances. He had a leg amputated due to complications from diabetes in the 1950s and was ‘rediscovered’ by George Mitchell and Roger Brown in 1963, during the blues revival of the late 1950s and early 1960s, a time when the young Rory was also taking in a lot of the blues and began playing guitar. It is an interesting question of how much he may have picked up from the blues revival, which saw many blues musicians play in the UK and Europe, where interest in the blues was strong. This is the same period that brought Son House and Skip James back to the fore. Rory could not have been doing anything but pay attention, even if he were too young at the age of twelve to make it to any of the shows in Europe and the UK mainland. Peg Leg Howell did make some final recordings in this period, but being born in 1888, he was an old man and passed away in 1966.

It's amazing what Rory hints at in what is lyrically a very short song – more of a vignette than a full tale. But it’s enough to provide a powerful glimpse into the world of the blues back in the day. During an interview later in his life, it was suggested to Rory he could easily teach a blues course at a university. He no doubt would have been particularly good at it. His short comments on the topic to journalists and other interviewers are lessons in themselves.

#29 - Loanshark Blues

 Album: Defender (1987)

Following 1982’s Jinx album, it would be five years before Rory Gallagher released another studio album, leading to some believing he had apparently vanished into the ether.

“I was quite busy, I wasn’t back in Ireland for a long time. We were playing a lot on the Continent, we were in America for a couple of trips. We also played behind the Iron Curtain. So it was more active than people would know, but unfortunately if you’re not playing in this part of the world, people think you’ve faded away.” Rory on RTÉ’s Borderline, 1 March, 1988.

Defender was released on 1 July 1987. It was the first album he released on his own independent label, Capo Records, having parted company with Chrysalis following Jinx. In many ways, it’s one of his heavier albums, ranging from rock to veritable blues classics. Recorded across a number of London Studios, including The Point, Olympic Studios, West 3 Studios, Music Works and Redan Studios, personnel included band regulars Gerry McAvoy on bass, Brendan O’Neill on drums and Mark Feltham on harmonica (‘Don’t Start Me Talkin’) , with former keyboardist and pianist Lou Martin making a return to guest on ‘Seven Days’. It was a successful album on the independent charts, with many positive reviews, some even describing it as Rory’s best to date. Discussing Defender on the aforementioned Borderline interview, Rory said:

“We did an album called Torch, it wasn’t satisfactory in the end. And it was like, it was a good thing it turned out that way, because sometimes it’s good to get really disgusted with the stuff you’re doing and give yourself a real ticking off and start again. Costs a fortune, but that’s more or less how we started the album.

“I feel very reasonable about this particular album; it’s nice and to the point and it has a nice mood to it, I think. That’s my own review, anyway.”

In these comments, it seems that, happy as he is about Defender, there comes across a very hefty personal self-criticism. Much has been written, mooted, discussed, and opined about Rory’s health and general state of being at this time. It is true he wasn’t in a happy place at this point, and it was during the Defender sessions, often working late into the night, that Rory said something ominous loomed over him. Many have taken this and his subsequent health issues as an opportunity to write off Rory as a musician and performer (Defender was his second last studio album), and it feels as though this is a sad and unjust line drawn under his talent. Indeed, there are some who won’t listen to Rory’s later work or footage of his live shows because of this. It’s deeply unfair and an injustice to the man. Take the time to sit down, watch and listen. He still had it in him. And if anything, he was maturing to something incredible.

‘Loanshark Blues’, the second track on Defender is a case in point. Rory is very much making his mark as a bluesman. The lyrics begin with a variation of the traditional call and response found in blues songs:

“Give me 'til Monday, that's only a day or two
Give me til Monday, that's only a day or two
I'll pay you back with interest the last thing that I do
I'll pay you back with interest the last thing that I do
Yeah, yeah”

Interspersed between variations of these choruses are verses that tell the tale of a man literally begging for the survival of his family and himself in the most desperate destitution:

“Wife needs shoes, the kids must eat
Feel so cold, I can't feel my feet
Can't get my hands on one thin dime
I'm gonna turn to a life of crime

No work here, so I walk the street
Sign on the door, I feel I'm beat
I know you run Pier 15
You got a grip on all my dreams”

It’s powerful stuff – thematically, the poverty is something featured in several traditional Delta blues. Rory must have had thousands of those songs stored in his inner ear by this point. There is also a hint of the books Rory liked to read, the hard-boiled detective novels, some of which, like the Delta songs, date back to the Great Depression. Both have simmered deep in Rory’s creative well it appears in ‘Loanshark Blues’. It was a song he was very satisfied with, to the extent of describing it as the best he had ever written:

“My favourite track. It’s a rhythmic thing, that I had to keep calm and controlled. There’s a sort of John Lee Hooker feel to it.”

He’s not far wrong in describing it as having a touch of John Lee Hooker. It appears Rory has fully come back into the blues he grew up besotted with and was taking it into a new direction, making it his own. His band by this point had transformed from the blues-rock/heavy rock of the 1970s and early 1980s to something with a heavier electric blues kick. Gerry McAvoy had been with Rory 16 years by time Defender came around and Brendan O’Neill had taken over from Ted McKenna on drums in 1981, becoming Rory’s longest served drummer. Mark Feltham had also become a regular in the line-up, often trading licks with Rory on live shows. It was a formidable unit to say the least!



For more information on Rory during this period, this article is a worthy read. And remember, mental health issues are no one's fault and help is available if needed.

#28 - Bullfrog Blues

 Albums: Live In Europe (1972)

Also: Blues (2019), Check Shirt Wizard (2020)

When Rory Gallagher mooted a live album as his third solo outing, wanting to capture the energy of his live performance, his record label, Polydor, was somewhat hesitant. Nonetheless, in February and March 1972, he recorded shows from his European tour.  With Wilgar Campbell on drums and Gerry McAvoy on bass, the album was released on 14 May that year. It hit the top ten of the UK album charts and became his first gold record.

It also mostly featured songs that hadn’t been on Rory’s previous albums, several of them became firm fixtures of his live show from there on in. ‘Bullfrog Blues’ in particular has gone onto reach legendary status. It perhaps isn’t an exaggeration to suggest that several Rory fans would be delighted with a compilation album solely comprised of his various live versions of that one song.

‘Bullfrog Blues’ first came to the light of day with William Harris, who recorded it back in 1928. Harris was ‘discovered’ by Henry Columbus Speir, a white record store owner in Jackson, Mississippi, who also acted as a talent scout for a number of record labels including Columbia, Victor, Okeh, Paramount, Decca, Vocallion and Gennett. The majority of records he sold from his store were blues and it’s argued that if it wasn’t for Speir, much of the Delta blues would have been missed. Amongst those Speir brought to notice include Son House, Charley Patton, Robert Johnson, Skip James, Bo Carter and the Mississippi Sheiks. As well as being regarded as some of the biggest names in the blues, Rory himself often cited them as favourites, interpreted their work in his own way, and in the case of the Mississippi Sheiks, even wrote a song about them!

Ted Gioia in his book Delta Blues, notes that when researcher Gayle Wardlow played William Harris’ recordings to older Mississippi blues musicians, they all commented that here was an authentic Delta player. Unfortunately, unlike the others picked up by H.C. Speir, William Harris appears to have disappeared down a black hole in history, though it’s thought that he may have been the first bluesman Speir signed. Very little is known about Harris outwith the songs he recorded for Speir in the late 1920s. Searches have been made with little success in the historic records for Harris. The only other information on him is anecdotal: he was said to have toured extensively, playing medicine shows, juke joints, house parties and street corners. He is also described as being religious and avoided drink, and guitarist Hayes McMullen recalls him at a house party in 1927, smartly dressed, cracking jokes and playing guitar whilst dancing with a woman at the same time. Other than that, there is simply nothing.

Nothing apart from ‘Bullfrog Blues’, which went on to be covered eleven times following its first release, including by Rory. Other notable versions include a late 1965 cover by John Hammond, which sounds close to the original and Canned Heat’s 1967 version, which, though called ‘Bullfrog Blues’, has developed with new lyrics. With old blues numbers, this is quite common. Certainly Rory took it and made it his own. There may be something of a personal bias here, but his version certainly blows Canned Heat out the house in terms of sheer raw energy. As Jamel_AKA_Jamal, a YouTuber who posts reaction videos to music requests, says in his recent video reaction to the 1976 Old Grey Whistle Test Rory Gallagher Special version of ‘Bullfrog Blues’, this is a band going crazy on stage.

If anything, it seems like Rory and his bandmates (in any of the line-ups of The Rory Gallagher Band) have a distinct case of the ‘Bullfrog Blues’ as described in the lyrics Rory puts to the song. A bizarre affliction that no medical intervention can cure but can only be dealt with by getting up and playing music. Rory varied the lyrics from performance to performance, but the gist is just the same. Got yourself in an uncomfortable state? Let the music take it out. The song itself seems to be the cure, which is probably handy as it’s a condition the entire family can have – “My mother got them, my father got them, my sister got them” – even Grandma gets affected!

For Rory, the main crux of the song appears to be the act of playing. He spends less time singing than he does enthusiastically letting rip on guitar, and the energy is passed around the band, each taking a solo and becoming the centre of attention, before everyone joins back in and continues to let rip even more. All the while, the audience is a bouncing, boogeying froth, getting more worked up as Rory gets worked up – rather famously at the Chorus Pour Paris 1980 show. ‘Bullfrog Blues’ closes the program and the audience leap up on stage, dancing around the band, with Rory eventually climbing on top of the amplifiers for a more scenic view!

#27 - Cruise On Out

 

Albums: Photo Finish, 1978; Notes From San Francisco 2011

When recording Photo Finish, Rory Gallagher reworked some songs from the ultimately (and literally!) binned Elliot Mazer sessions recorded in San Francisco in late 1977. It was a time of new directions for Rory. He felt that the Mazer sessions had drifted from what he truly aimed for with his music and wanted to get back to what he felt was ‘Rory Gallagher music’. Part of this included ending his six year line-up of his band, with drummer Rod de’Ath and pianist Lou Martin being released for pastures new and the former drummer of The Sensational Alex Harvey Band, Ted McKenna, being brought in. The Rory Gallagher group reverted back to the trio set up it had started out with. Gerry McAvoy remained on bass. To say 1978 was eventful in the Gallagher camp is perhaps putting it mildly!

Having joined The Rory Gallagher Band in June 1978, Ted had to learn quickly, as they were in Dieter Dierk's studio in Cologne between July and August. There was, somehow fitted in there, in typical Rory fashion, a tour too! Add to that the fact Ted probably barely had time to breathe as The Sensational Alex Harvey Band had not long split up unexpectedly. Ted was in fact catching up with Alex on a night out when he found out Rory was looking for a new drummer and Ted’s name had been mentioned. Ted went along to audition. Afterwards, he was surprised when Rory and the others helped him take his kit back down to his car. “You don’t have to do that.” He told them. “That’s not how we do things,” came the reply. Ted recalled Rory signing an autograph for a fan in the street while holding onto Ted’s tom-tom. Shortly afterwards, while visiting his parents back in Scotland, Ted got the call to join Rory at the Macroom Mountain Dew Festival in Co. Cork. And thus, another well regarded Rory line-up was born.

'Cruise On Out’ was one of the songs brought into Photo Finish from the Elliot Mazer sessions. In his notes for Photo Finish, Rory’s brother Dónal, writes that Rory had Elvis Presley in mind for the rockabilly flavoured number. When thinking of Elvis’ 1970s output, with ‘Burnin’ Love’ and ‘Moody Blues’, it is a song that could have fitted in with Elvis’ oeuvre. It was fairly common for songwriters to produce the goods and see Presley work his magic on it. One such composer was Guy Fletcher, who saw Elvis record his song ‘Just Pretend’ in 1970 during Elvis’ RCA Nashville sessions. The seemingly random link will probably raise a few eyebrows of beleaguered parents whose little ones are fans of the high octane Justin Fletcher of Cbeebies fame, as Guy Fletcher is Justin’s father – there’s a random six degrees of fame!

The lyrics to ‘Cruise On Out’ depict what seems a typical scene of the 50s and early 60s of a young couple going out to a dance, featuring a group (possibly not unlike those Rory himself played in) that kept the crowd dancing all night, the dancers looking sharp and the young girl’s father perhaps less than impressed by the blossoming romance and dancing:

 

Well that cat you will be payin',

You ought to make you there,

When that drummer hits the rim shot,

It almost busts the snare.

You put on your cat clothes,

And I will put on mine,

Together pretty babe,

We're gonna cruise on down the line.

Come on and cruise on out with me,

Won't you cruise on out with me

It’s a scene Rory probably experienced many times from his days as a showband guitarist in the sixties while in his teens. The best definition of a showband is given on the website Irish-Showbands.com: “The term ‘Irish Showband’ generally refers to a particular type of musical act popular in Ireland in the 1950's and 1960's.” Showbands played the sizeable dance circuit in Ireland, some of the groups becoming immensely popular. They tended to play what the audiences liked to hear. Some have been disparaging of the showbands, claiming they ruined many a musician. But as the young Rory himself found, they were a great way to get experience of playing live on stage, and several young musicians such as Rory, and indeed, Eric Bell of Thin Lizzy, served their time as showband musicians.

Rory answered an advert seeking a guitarist for The Fontana Showband, which later was re-named The Impact. They auditioned him and, impressed at his skills, gave him the job. He was only 14 at the time and stayed with the group for a few years, playing all over Ireland, London and eventually mainland Europe. This he mixed in with school, usually heading off for lessons, and even his first Leaving Certificate exam, on the morning immediately after shows. It’s not hard to picture him seeing the scenes depicted in ‘Cruise On Out’ during his showband days on many an occasion.

The two versions of ‘Cruise On Out’, the earlier one found on Notes From San Francisco and the later one on Photo Finish, on one level come across as having the same energy level and structure. Both are pure and simple bona fide rockers. The earlier one of course has Rod and Lou on drums and keyboards respectively, while the later one has Ted on drums. Differences are present – the barrel house piano that Lou was renowned for is a big presence on the Notes From San Francisco version, trading licks with Rory’s guitar, and at times swapping lead and rhythm runs. The differing styles between Rod and Ted as drummers is also noticeable. One key thing the two versions show is the change in the switching of the Rory Gallagher band line-up. By time they hit Elliot Mazer’s studio in late 1977, Rory had a tight group of over five years standing that could match many as a great blues band with a big sound. When the song was recorded again the following year for Photo Finish at Dierks’ Studios, it’s a rawer, stripped back experience.

The fact that Ted had only been with Rory for a matter of weeks by rights should have shown a less connected band, but Ted seems to effortlessly slide in and help take Rory’s sound in a harder, heavy rock direction. The fact Ted had played with The Sensational Alex Harvey Band for six years not long before no doubt helped – Ted had to learn quickly with Alex, who would grab and shake the cymbals of the drum kit when he wanted Ted to put more leather into it. Or, as we say in Glasgow, ‘gie it laldi!’ In other words, he came to Rory very well basted from the frenetic oven of SAHB live shows.

‘Cruise On Out’ is a favourite of Dónal Gallagher – and the reason why his son Daniel added it to The Best Of Rory Gallagher compilation released in 2020.

The first Notes From San Francisco version is below:

 To find out more about the rich history of showbands, check out the Irish Showbands website.

 

#26 - Moonchild

Albums: Calling Card, 1976

See also: Stage Struck, 1980 and Check Shirt Wizard, 2020

Rory Gallagher shook things up a little when it came to recording the Calling Card album, which saw its release on 24 October 1976, after being recorded that summer. Rory had only had someone else produce albums for him while he was in Taste – he had taken on the job himself for his solo albums up until now.

“For this album he was keen to find a producer who had an affinity with traditional rock values but was open to new ideas.” Writes Dónal Gallagher, in the Calling Card article on Rory’s official website, “On his previous release, ‘Against The Grain’, Rory had started to shift away from the blues/rock style he’d made his own, creating an album with a harder sound. He was keen this progression should continue but needed to find a producer who shared his convictions and could help create the sound he wanted.”

Enter Roger Glover, bassist for Deep Purple. Rory and his band had already supported Deep Purple on tour and Glover had booked eight weeks at the Musicland Studios in Munich, Germany, for his own work. Rory bought four weeks off him and work began. The band that Rory took into the studio consisted of his by then long-time line-up of Gerry McAvoy on bass, Rod de’Ath on drums and Lou Martin on piano and keyboards. Glover noted that the band appeared very dedicated to Rory. This was the final album he recorded with this particular line-up. And from a personal perspective, what a line-up it was!

Gerry noted that Rory attempted to make things a little more relaxed in the studio. Bringing Roger Glover in was the first time Rory had worked with a ‘name’ producer, so things were a little different to how they had previously worked. Rory had a very strong sense of humour, and as the studio sessions proved, not averse to the odd gag. While recording ‘Barley and Grape Rag’, he said to Lou to take a turn on vocals to try something different. Lou was duly sent to the microphone set up in a bathroom, which Rory liked the acoustics of, and started singing, to the high amusement of everyone in the recording booth. Gerry himself became a ‘victim’. Rory decided they would have a day off and they went to a local bar, enjoying a drink. Then Rory announced there was something he wanted to try, and they had to go back to the studio. He wanted to get the bass off of an organ or keyboard there, and as bassist, Gerry was given the job. He found himself lying on the floor, pressing the various pedals attempting to get it right, when the sound of laughter let him know he had been had!

Rory was always serious about his craft, but he didn’t come in with screeds of paper when introducing a new song, as Gerry mentioned recently on the podcast The Strange Brew. Rory would simply start playing it on guitar, and Gerry, who played guitar before taking up bass, could see what Rory was playing and transfer it to bass, with the drummer joining in. Rory also wrote according to what each band member could bring in, each musician being different.

Calling Card is seen as the most eclectic of Rory’s solo albums, as he started to head in a harder rock direction. However, listen closely and the blues really aren’t far behind. ‘Moonchild’, the third song on the album, is probably one of his most iconic. From the start, with Rory’s rocking guitar intro and Rod’s heavy drums, it’s a song that makes a statement from the start.

"You are a moonchild and pretty soon child

I've got that feeling

That I'm gonna make you smile forever

If I can.

Just give me a sign and I'll show you my plan."

The song lyrics are about, as Rory said himself in an interview, a mythical woman he made up. It almost seems as if she has a folkloric quality, perhaps like one of the fae, with mentions of ‘just give me a sign’. Anyone who knows even just a little bit of Celtic mythology could tell you that the fae-folk or fairies, are an enigmatic lot. They form a large part of Irish folk culture, with the Sidhe and Tuatha Dé Danaan. It is of course mere speculation on my part, but it is a thought that perhaps there was a touch of this inspiring Rory when he wrote ‘Moonchild’.

It’s song that sears itself on your mind and falls into the category of earworm, but fortunately an earworm that you really want to have. The fact that the line-up of Rory, with Gerry, Rod and Lou had been together for a few years by this point, with countless performances beneath their belt shines through. They are very tight and gel together brilliantly. You can hear what each musician brings to the table, Rory leading with his guitar solo, Lou echoing the riff on keyboards providing a strong background and adding to the heavy edge of the song. Gerry’s prowess as a bassist shines through beautifully, giving it a further edge. And Rod’s drums are phenomenal – I have said it many times, but I’ll say it again – Rod is one of the best drummers in rock and blues and deserves to be recognised as such.

‘Moonchild’ is one of those songs that Rory could raise the roof off the house with when played live – if it was possible to raise it any higher by time he started playing the opening riff!

Today's post marks what would have been Rory's 74th birthday, and what a song to remember him by! 

#25 What's Going On

 

Album: Taste – On The Boards (1970)

Also: Taste – What’s Going On – Live At The Isle Of Wight (2015)

Basically, 1970 is the year that, had certain undercurrents been different, Taste should have gone stratospheric. Their second album, On The Boards, was released on 1 January 1970 and peaked in the UK top 20 album charts and marked the then 21-year-old Rory Gallagher as a composer and musician of some note. It received rave reviews everywhere.

Produced by Tony Colton, it featured Rory on vocals, guitar, harmonica, and sax, with fellow Taste bandmates John Wilson on drums and Richard McCracken on bass. The first track, ‘What’s Going On,’ is an instant earworm and thought to be the groups best known track. With the high praise from the likes of Lester Bangs, who wrote, “Everyone else is just woodshedding: Taste have arrived.” Enthusiastic audiences across Europe, Ireland, and the UK wherever they played certainly are the mark of a band ‘making it.’ August of that year saw the now legendary performance at the Isle Of Wight Festival in front of 600,000 people that resulted in several encores. From then on, there was no turning back.

 Or so you might think, for just before the performance (which, incidentally the band’s management threatened to cancel as they didn’t know a film crew was about!), Taste had decided to call it a day and split up! Ongoing issues with manager Eddie Kennedy and differences between Rory and the rest of the group had finally come to the boil. As the group were heading out to the festival, they found their van had been broken into, and some gear stolen. Rory pointed out that this was another example of bad management, as he had been pointing out they needed a better van for quite a while. The result was they decided to split up, though Taste had to fulfil a final tour before what turned out to be their final performance at Queens University, Belfast on 24 October 1970.

 In many respects, “What’s Going On” is the perfect song for the situation. The lyrics, short and to the point, ask several questions about a scenario that is unclear and bewildering. Rory perhaps was wondering just what was, er, going on, with his band:

 

What's going on?
Everyone acts crazy
Yes or no means maybe.

What's going on?
Could you correct my vision?
Helping my decision?

 

Looking back at that period, it’s understandable why, when he went solo, Rory very much made sure that he was in charge, with the help of Dónal Gallagher and other trusted people to help keep the cogs running smoothly, and ensure that Rory knew, erm, just what was going on.

 Songs have a certain beauty in the fact that they can be a very subjective thing. For Rory, ‘What’s Going On’ certainly had its own personal meaning – the one that no doubt inspired its composition. For those of us coming across it years later, it can take on a whole new meaning. The song was released in 1970. Coming down the line to nowadays, it’s a song that fits the mood of the early 2020s. With a pandemic that never seems to be going, the bizarre world of social media, politics all over the place, the interesting phenomenon of cancel culture, the rise of reality TV and associated celebrities, as well as a great many other things that it would simply take too long to list, many of us often do find ourselves asking what is going on. And if truth be told, I find myself singing the song!

 For the most blistering version of the song, you need to go to the Isle Of Wight performance. Rory literally is on fire here, screaming guitar and singing his guts out. All you have is him, John’s drums and Richard’s bass – a simple three-person set up – yet they set the entire isle ablaze and hold literally hundreds of thousands in awe with the power of their performance. The uncertainty rents the air and it will leave it’s echo for years to come. Rory may have been angry and unsure of his future, but the world was sure as hell paying attention to him as a musician.

#24 - Cradle Rock

Album: Tattoo (1973), Irish Tour ‘74 (1974)


One of those random coincidences that life likes to throw up is the fact that Rory Gallagher was born at the Rock Hospital in Ballyshannon, County Donegal on 2 March 1948. Fans and writers alike have made many a quip about the aptness of this given the musician that Rory turned out to be. It wasn’t lost on Rory either, as, according to his brother, Dónal, in the linear notes for the Tattoo album, ‘Cradle Rock,’ was inspired by this as Rory “literally rocked all his life.” An added twist is the fact that Rory was also christened at the Rock Church in Ballyshannon.

Rory certainly was on rocking form in the summer of 1973, when he and his band started work on Tattoo, rehearsing at a rowing club in Rory’s hometown of Cork. For those now scratching their heads at the jump from the province of Ulster, where Donegal is located, to Munster, where Cork is, settle yourselves for a brief geographical digression. When Rory was born, his father Danny, who was also a notable musician, being Ulster champion on the accordion, was working on the Erne Hydro-electric scheme in Ballyshannon. The family then moved to Danny’s native Derry, where Dónal was born on 9 August 1949. By the latter half of the 1950’s, the family relocated to Cork City, where Rory and Dónal’s mother Mona came from. And now, back to Tattoo!

Rehearsals progressed so well, that Rory was able to work out the music for his third solo studio album in a relaxed manner, the album being recorded quickly at the Polydor studios in London and released on 11 November 1973. Reviews for Tattoo were positive. Rolling Stone Magazine wrote that its predecessor Blueprint was excellent, and that Rory ‘is a confident and intelligent rock and blues guitarist,’ Tattoo was an indication that he was also becoming ‘a composer of note,’ finding a sound that was his.

This is a fair summation. With his highly regarded line up of Lou Martin (keyboards), Gerry McAvoy (bass) and Rod de’Ath (drums), there were few parts of Europe, Ireland, the UK, and North America they hadn’t played by the summer of 1973. Rory had started to cement a distinctive sound and hit a stride in his music. They were a tight group. Watch any video of them from 1973 onwards, and they jump into a song straight off the bat. Their strength as a cohesive performing unit is very evident on the Irish Tour movie and accompanying live album, Irish Tour ‘74, which seems to me to join both the music of Blueprint and Tattoo magnificently and highlights a band at its apex.

Irish Tour ‘74 opens with the announcement, “Hello, ladies and gentlemen, Rory Gallagher”, a crowd cheering enthusiastically in response, and a few strums of a guitar, before launching into the riff, the rest of the band joining as a whole in the first few bars to create a wonderful, thundering sonic onslaught. If you’re only going to listen to Cradle Rock one way, this is it.

There are two things that come to mind listening to Cradle Rock. The first is that Rory has without a doubt plumbed the depths of his talents and brought them to the fore, no holds barred. The music digs right into the guts and livens you up. If you’re struggling to get yourself going, I thoroughly recommend it, though any neighbours catching a glimpse of you through the window dancing unabashedly, throwing in some air guitar for good measure, may raise their eyebrows. Not that you’d care at that moment, being caught in the music.

The power of Rory’s guitar playing is wonderfully highlighted in the song. He really lets rip and the guitar does all the talking, wailing, swooping, and diving all over, with a nice bit of slide halfway through to take it that bit further. On the Irish Tour ‘74 version, you also get a nice example of that remarkable ability Rory had for being able to sing and scat along with the guitar as he plays, note perfect. As Gerry has previously said, Rory at times sounded like a guitar himself.

As much as Cradle Rock showcases Rory’s musicianship, it is also an example of his generosity as a band leader. Gerry, Lou, and Rod could have been expected just to provide a toned-down sound, toeing the line while the ‘main show’ demonstrated what he could do. But Rory didn’t roll like that – he collaborated with musicians who were immensely talented and he let them show it.

Rod’s drumming on this is one of the reasons he is one of my favourite drummers. He throws his all into it – watching him on the Irish Tour movie, it’s a wonder he doesn’t have to be wheeled out after Cradle Rock alone for a lie down. And the end of the film after the show, he looks utterly exhausted. Rod has been unfairly disparaged by some snobs who don’t think he’s up to much. Rory himself often stated he was a fantastic drummer and many fans believe he nailed the Rory Gallagher sound perfectly.

Lou Martin trades licks with Rory in Cradle Rock like a maestro and at one points switch over to take the lead on his keyboards, carrying on the swooping nature of the song before handing back to Rory’s guitar. Lou was a classically trained pianist, who fell for the blues hard. Rory enjoyed his encyclopaedic knowledge of the blues and probably knew there was potential when he told Rod to bring his ‘piano playing friend’ to rehearsals one day, Lou having previously been in the band Killing Floor with Rod, who just happened to enthusiastically tell Rory at great length how good Lou was. It wasn’t long before Lou was a member of the band. An interesting aside is that as a kid, Rod also studied piano, before giving up at the age of 12 to his later regret!

Gerry McAvoy remained Rory’s bassist for 20 years. And he still rocks to this day, some describing him as the reason they themselves picked up bass. On Cradle Rock, he provides the glue that helps keep it all together. It’s often said the Rory and Gerry had a sort of telepathy on stage. Rory said in a 1978 interview with the Cork Examiner:

“I wanted Gerry McAvoy to stay with the band because we’ve always had a great understanding for each other when we were on stage. His play inspires me. I don’t know why, it’s hard to explain. But when you play with someone like Gerry, there’s just this electrifying spark on stage here and there. However, he’s an excellent bass man.”



Birthday wishes are due to both drummer Brendan O'Neill and the aforementioned Gerry in the timing of this post.

 

#23 - In Your Town

Album – Deuce 1971

See Also – Live In Europe (1972) and Irish Tour ‘74 40^th Anniversary (Cork) (2014)

 First appearing on Rory Gallagher’s second album, Deuce, released on 28 November 1971, ‘In Your Town’, is one of those songs that just jumps out the speaker and grabs you by the throat. And played live, it was certainly one that grabbed the audience. The fact that it was voted his most popular live song by fans on Rory’s official Facebook page says a lot.

It sits with a number of classic tracks on Deuce, including ‘Crest Of A Wave,’ ‘I’m Not Awake Yet’, ‘Don’t Know Where I’m Going’, and ‘Whole Lot Of People’ - making for quite an incredible album that made its mark in many ways. Comedian Bill Hicks wore his copy out, while learning to play along with it was a turning point for guitarist Johnny Marr. The album was recorded at Tangerine Studios, London in August 1971. Next door was a bingo hall, and incredibly a group as loud as Rory’s had to contend with the bingo caller through the wall!

On the face of it, ‘In Your Town’ looks to have the settings of a basic classic rock/blues song. On the album version, it has just the trio of Rory on vocals and guitar, Wilgar Campbell on drums and Gerry McAvoy on bass. But the sound they produce is loud and primal, more than three young guys could seemingly make. It’s also a song where Rory’s skills as a slide guitarist come to the fore. He screeches and screams his guitar all the way through, whilst alternating with rhythm and lead. The raw sound of the guitar matches the tension of a cleverly worded song.

The premise of the song is of a man who has busted out of jail, Sing Sing, to be precise, after two decades in the slammer and returned to the scene of the crime to confront those who conspired to send him down. Prison life has not been good and you can bet this is an angry person. He claims not to want to cause uproar and carnage, but he is tense and ready to snap, so anything is possible:

The first man I wanna see is the Chief of Police
Bring that man right over here,
I wanna speak my piece
I wanna cause no trouble, no fuss, no fight
But look out man, you know this is Saturday night.

And prison life has most definitely not been a bed of roses, leaving this con numb:

When I came out I couldn't feel a,
I couldn't feel a, I couldn't feel a thing.

The album version alone builds up an incredible scene. Rory’s love for crime fiction is very well known and is a theme in several songs across his career. ‘In Your Town’ is the one in which he is at his most effective, setting up the scene with a man coming back for revenge.

However, ‘In Your Town’ took on an extra life when played live. During the early 1970s it was the song that usually rounded off gigs. But, if you listen to Live In Europe and the Cork disc of the 40^th anniversary edition of Irish Tour ‘74, you will notice an extra dimension to the song. Rory added new lyrics to it as he performed, stretching it beyond the original.

On Live In Europe, Rory expands beyond the scenario of a desperate man returning to seek his revenge to life in the prison itself and what led to the escape in the first place. Here, Rory describes the starkness of the prison cell, with bare walls and the indignation of the inmate when he receives a letter from his father, telling him that he is being put away for something he hadn’t done, his sentence extended to 99 years. The prisoner expresses the fear that he will die in jail. An escape is planned, using a grappling hook and rope, the main character and his fellow inmates bust out, climbing over a 40-foot wall, before hitching a lift in a pick-up truck to town, warning the residents to be careful.

 In the Irish Tour ‘74 40^th Anniversary edition, the fact Rory is performing in his hometown of Cork appears to give the song an extra personal kick - ‘I’m back in MY town’ he scats towards the end. The prison break is still there, but there is the added dimension of some of the nastiest and most infamous American criminals accompanying the chagrined character. These range from John Dillinger (‘Public Enemy Number 1’) to Bonnie and Clyde, Machine Gun Kelly, and old ‘Scarface’ himself, Al Capone. Capone gets the star turn as the meanest and he’d better get respect! At this point, Rod de’Ath was on drums and Lou Martin was on keyboards/piano. Lou adds his own twist to the song with his long solo.

It’s an interesting question, just how many versions of ‘In Your Town’ did Rory create while performing live? It’s a song of many verses. Or a song in the form of a novel!

For the curious, see below to hear Rory add new lyrics to 'In Your Town' as he plays live. And in true Rory style, they are extra long! 

 

Live In Europe

 

Irish Tour '74 40th Anniversary