The album Jinx came about during the passing of some
watersheds for Rory. Drummer Ted McKenna had by now left to join Michael
Schenker, and he only had one album left fulfill in his contract with Chrysalis
Records.
Dónal Gallagher writes, “As the title [of the album]
suggests, Rory had become quite frustrated with the way life was unfolding for
him at this time and much of the material on these recordings could be deemed
autobiographical.” It has been suggested that Rory called the album Jinx as a
gag at his record company’s expense. Things certainly can’t have been helped
with the loss of the American market to Chrysalis, causing Rory to join
Mercury, which distributed Jinx in the US, though it was a deal that didn’t
last.
Perhaps the arrival of Brendan O’Neill on the drum kit was
one of the happier episodes of that time. Brendan had met Gerry McAvoy at
school and the two were close friends from their early teens, both cutting
their musical teeth together with their first band Pride in Belfast in the
1960s while still at school. They both progressed to Deep Joy, the group from
which Rory recruited both Gerry and Wilgar Campbell in 1971.
Brendan had left Deep Joy to continue an apprenticeship as
an airframe fitter in Belfast while the band left to try their fortunes in
London with Wilgar on drums. Brendan had continued to work as a drummer around
his family and work commitments. He had auditioned with Rory as a potential
replacement for Rod de’Ath, but at the time, Brendan’s heart was more set in
making a go of things with his then current band Swift. It was a different
story in 1981, when Brendan auditioned again and got the job. He remained with
Rory for ten years – among Brendan’s first shows in Rory’s band were two dates in
Greece, including the legendary Athens gig, which saw a massive riot and the
band being tear gassed!
Jinx was recorded, like it’s two predecessors, at Dieter
Dierks studios near Cologne between May and June 1981. Electronic music, not
something Rory was exactly a huge fan of, was immensely popular. Rory wanted to
create an album that had a more classic sound, so he and his band spent time
gathering some older equipment. Released on 2 May 1982, it’s certainly a
meatier, organic sound next to a lot of the ‘Cecil B De Mille’ (as Rory
described it) that could be found on Top Of The Pops of the era. It’s proof of
Rory’s tenacity of keeping true to his roots despite the whims, wherefores and
demands of the heavy music industry, which Rory found increasingly frustrating.
The songs on Jinx, as Dónal mentions in the earlier quote, do show more of what
is going on with Rory emotionally and it is quite a mix, which will be explored
in later posts. However, Rory, as ‘The Devil Made Me Do It’ shows, was beyond
more than capable of knocking out a classic rocker.
Dónal in the same article describes the song as a meshing of
two of Rory’s heroes, Eddie Cochran and Buddy Holly. It is another of Rory’s
classic ‘vignette with a story’ songs, this one describing the situation a few
people have regrettably found themselves in – a night out on the tiles gone
overboard, waking up the next day in the hospitality of the police and an
appearance in court to account for actions that just can’t be remembered!
“What did I do that was so bad, to go and get myself
arrested?
Well, I was just in town to have some fun, but I ended up in the trash can
There I was in the witness box, my eyes turned towards the jury
Trying to recall what went wrong last night, but it won't come back to me
Well, the devil made me do it, do it, do it
The devil made me trip and fall
The devil drove me to it, to it, to it
Till I had no chance at all.”
The lyrics hint at a great uncertainty and trepidation – is
the protagonist going to wind up in jail and not know what happened that led
him there? There is also a strong hint of the supernatural in the lyrics, with
the appearance of Auld Nick himself to give testimony, the fate of the accused
lying in the words of the being he believes caused him to be there in the first
place.
Rory brilliantly hits upon two great themes of many a
classic blues song in “The Devil Made Me Do It”, the nefarious effects of booze
and the insertion of the Devil into hi-jinks and japery. A cursory glance over
the blues gives you a few songs with alcohol at the crux, ranging from John Lee
Hooker’s “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer” to JB Hutto’s “Too Much Alcohol”,
itself becoming a classic staple of Rory’s repertoire on his 1932 National. The
way in which the supernatural can be found in the blues is too detailed to go
into here, but a prime example of it can be seen just from the mythology alone
of Robert Johnson’s supposed pact with the Devil at the crossroads.
The electric soup of 1980s music sounds like it has stayed
there and is a popular topic of cheesy nostalgia. A song of the same era “The
Devil Made Me Do It” instead has a timeless quality and is up there with any
classic blues number about tangling the Devil and the drink.
Fifty years ago to me is a strange concept. In my early
teens, I remember the 50th anniversary of the end of World War II. I
think that has fixed in my head the notion that 50 years ago means austere
images of the mid-1940s, all monochrome and stiff upper lip; it was very much A
Very Long Time Ago. So, as an adult, seeing anniversaries, such as the 50th
anniversary of Rory Gallagher’s debut solo album is a strange one. He is not
all monochrome, stiff upper lip and all that. He is vibrant. Photos of him, he
could easily be some guy on the Glasgow music scene, denim clad, long hair and
bouncing about at a gig with his much-loved guitar. There’s something timeless
about Rory and his music. But an anniversary is an anniversary and 50 years
since Rory’s debut solo album came out is one to celebrate for sure.
It’s been done in style with the release of the box sets of his eponymous
debut. There are a couple of formats. The deluxe edition is a mighty 5-disc
set, reviewed here by guest writer Dr Lauren O’Hagan. I got the 2-disc CD set,
a review of which will also be featured here. As Lauren and I both found, each
set has something for everyone.
Dr Lauren O’Hagan
Rory Gallagher’s eponymous debut
solo album, or the “Black Album” as he called it, holds a special place in my
heart. It was my introduction to Rory some five years ago and, from the opening
riff of ‘Laundromat’ to the closing sax solo of ‘Can’t Believe It’s True’, I
was well and truly hooked. So, when the 50th anniversary release was
announced earlier this year by the Gallagher Estate, I knew I would have to
splurge on the deluxe box set.
Measuring 33cm by 33cm, weighing
in at a whopping 2.5kg and featuring the iconic black and white photo of Rory
taken by Mick Rock on its cover, the box set. really is a sight for sore eyes.
It pulls out to reveal a beautifully decorated slipcase featuring a collage of
archival articles and photographs from Melody Maker, Sounds and Disc
& Music Echo, all waxing lyrical over Rory and his new band. Then,
housed inside the slipcase itself, comes the real treat: the hardback book
filled with unseen photographs of Rory taken by Barrie Wentzell, essays by
Rory’s brother Dónal and band mate Gerry McAvoy and historic interviews with
Rory himself.
But, for me, the pièce de
résistance is the opportunity to see Rory’s handwritten lyrics, scribbled onto
scraps of paper, with words and phrases crossed out, added and moved. Not only
do they give a real insight into his creative process, but they also drive home
the pain and anger he felt at the Taste break-up and the nasty aftermath played
out in the press. No less than six songs on the album touch upon this theme and
original lyrics that were later discarded truly emphasize Rory’s hurt: “You’ve
cooked your goose and the feathers are flying” in both ‘Wave Myself Goodbye’
and ‘For the Last Time’, “When night and day collide, you won’t be around” in
‘I Fall Apart’ and “It’s getting harder to face each day; it’s getting easier
to run away” in ‘I’m Not Surprised’.
Before discussing the CDs, I
can’t resist drawing attention to their presentation, which has been thought
about so carefully. They are stored in a vinyl-sized gate fold featuring more
classic shots of Rory by Barrie Wentzell, opening to reveal a print of the
original advertisement for Rory’s 1971 UK tour. Then, tucked neatly inside, is
a large poster of an angelic-looking Rory with his gaze cast downwards to his
beloved Strat.
The first disc is a remixed
version of the original album, which, as expected, sounds excellent. With their
blend of rock, blues, country, folk and jazz, the songs showcase Rory’s
versatility, and they sound so fresh today that it’s hard to believe that they
came out 50 years ago.
The second disc features songs
from the Tangerine Sessions and alternate takes. The particular standout is
Take 3 of ‘At the Bottom’ – a song that didn’t appear until 1975’s Against the
Grain. The version here is more up tempo and features a fantastic harmonica
solo by Rory, making you wonder how it didn’t appear in this form on the debut
album. Other honourable
mentions go to ‘Advision Jam’ – a brilliant bluesy instrumental – and Take 1 of
‘Just the Smile’, which has Rory humming along softly with his guitar-playing
(it feels so intimate that it’s like he is sitting just beside you!).
Disc 3 delights with even more
alternate takes that provide a real sense of Rory’s genius – his ability to
improvise and subtly change lyrics, riffs and chords like nobody else I have
ever seen. Here, Take 2 of ‘Hands Up’ and Take 2 of ‘Sinner Boy’ are the major
highlights, while ‘Can’t Believe It’s True’ gives us a glimpse of Rory’s notorious
perfectionism as he starts and stops six times, unhappy with the take. Almost
as good as the music itself is the chance to hear Rory’s interjections and
comments before and after takes, which makes you feel like you are being
treated to your own private performance in the studio (if only, eh?).
The final disc offers
barnstorming renditions of ten songs taken from BBC Sound of the Seventies and
John Peel’s Sunday Concert. ‘In Your Town’ is always a treat for the ears, but
the version here is particularly dazzling with Rory’s killer slide. The cover
of Otis Rush’s ‘It Takes Time’ is also guaranteed to leave you speechless
(shoutout to Gerry too for an incredible bass solo!). In fact, the John Peel
set is so good that I couldn’t help but also treat myself to the
limited-edition orange vinyl format, which sounds even better (if that was
humanly possible!) and fits neatly into the slipcase. Win-win all around!
Finally, it’s time to discuss the
DVD of Rory’s first solo gig, which took place at La Taverne de l’Olympia in
Paris on 30th April 1971. While the concert has been on YouTube for
some time, the quality is poor, so it was a real joy to have the opportunity to
watch it in high definition at last. The DVD opens with a great little
interview with Rory discussing his musical influences, before leading into the
concert itself with a set list of seven songs. The band is so tight and in sync
that you wouldn’t believe it was their first time playing together before an
audience. It’s hard to pick one high point because the full 50 minutes are
outstanding, but at a push, I would say ‘Wave Myself Goodbye’ (I have a real
soft spot for acoustic Rory!) and ‘The Same Thing’ (Rory at his bluesy best!).
So, all that’s left for me to say
is a huge thank you to Dónal and his son Daniel for putting out an incredible
release. I am sure that Rory would be so proud of all your hard work, and I
have no doubt that, in another 50 years, we will still be talking about the
“Black Album” as one of the greatest debuts of all time.
M J Steel Collins
The 2-CD set of Rory’s 50th
anniversary is a pared down version of the 5-disc set. It features the remix of
the original album on disc one. As I write, ‘Sinner Boy’ is currently massaging
the airways from my nice new Bluetooth speaker (thanks dad!) and putting it
bluntly, it sounds fresh as a daisy, loaded with soul and spirit. With only
bass, drums and Rory on guitar and vocals, it shows that an uncomplicated set
up is in many cases the best.
And on we go to ‘For The Last
Time’, one of Rory’s songs that punches the gut. There’s no deep-set navel
gazing, which some music of the late 1960s and early 1970s put an awful lot of
effort into – and not always for the best. With Rory, you just get to the heart
of it. The remix of the album adds a fresh edge to it. It sounds vital, like
the sort of music we need. Much modern mainstream pop music these days sounds
like calcified nonsense. It’s just a noise, with little thought or depth beyond
how much cash it may rake in. And perhaps how much of an annoying ear worm it
can be, making someone unwittingly hum it to their great chagrin as they go
about their day. We also need something that we can feel, and Rory Gallagher
(both the man and the album) offer this in spades.
The mix on the album is something
that leaves you hearing the unexpected. One minute you’re listening to folk,
the next blues, the next country. It speaks volumes about the versatility of
Rory. Special mention must also be given to Wilgar Campbell, the first drummer
of the Rory Gallagher band. He and Gerry already had experience playing
together as the rhythm section of Deep Joy and they form an excellent backbone
for Rory. They allow him to do what he does best, without any fuss or nonsense.
Wilgar unfortunately left Rory’s band in 1972 owing to ill health, Rod de’Ath
stepping in as replacement. Listening to Wilgar in this new edition, it becomes
apparent how strong a drummer he was – and very different in style from the
also immensely talented John Wilson of Taste. Wilgar is a drummer whose work
deserves more appreciation.
As for Gerry, though he had
experience gigging with Deep Joy, this was his first experience in the
recording studio, at 19 years old. Gerry’s bass is strong. He may have yet to
discover the link that made both him and Rory quite the partnership over 20
years, but he is well on the way. In a recent interview to mark the new 50th
release, Gerry said it took a bit of getting used to wearing headphones while
in the studio, but neither that nor the newness of the situation seems to have
phased him, ‘I was just a kid!’, as he said in the same interview, and all!
The second CD
of the set is a shorter selection of the outtakes and Sound Of The Seventies
live performances that feature more extensively in the 5-disc set. But at 18
tracks long, it’s still quite a lengthy collection. Each offer a fascinating
tidbit into how the album came together and how the three musicians gel in the
process. ‘I Fall Apart’ is one of my favourite Rory tracks. On the album
version, he delivers one of the most searing guitar solos I’ve ever heard. To
have it on the second CD with both the Tangerine Studio Session and the Sounds
Of The Seventies, is a treat for me. It just adds to the number of versions I
could merrily have on repeat. My neighbours blast cheesy dance choons that rip
through the ears, so I think they can live with ‘I Fall Apart’ over and over.
The energy of the guitar solo is just as strong as the take Rory finally
settled on.Getting to hear ‘behind the
scenes’ on the outtakes and extras is fantastic for the Rory devoted fan. We
see a lot of his energy as a live performer from the archive concert videos on
YouTube and DVD, but to hear him talking away in the studio and working out
where the song is going is an extra dimension. The 2-disc set also comes with a
great booklet, featuring essays of memories by Dònal and Gerry, along with some
smashing photography by Barrie Wentzell.
It might all be
50 years ago, but Rory isn’t a figure trapped in a bygone age. More and more
younger fans are discovering his work, and he is growing increasingly popular.
For the last couple of years of living in lock down, he has been a tonic. His
nephew Daniel is to be highly commended for his work on this release.A look over the credits on the CD reveal
that, just like when he started out with younger brother Dònal
helping with, well just about everything involved in running a music career,
Rory is still very much a Gallagher family affair. As well as the work of
Daniel in production, his brother Eoin is credited with the archive research
and scanning. And of course, their Dad Dònal is still looking after Rory as he
has done all these years.
This
is what gives Rory the edge above all other ‘legacy’ acts, outside his own
brilliance as a musician – it’s not some bloated corporate affair available
only to the most minted of fans. Whether they go for deluxe or standard
editions of the 50th, Rory is within easy reach of all.
There are moments during live shows with a
bouncing audience and a raucous band where time seems to stand still and you
can hear a pin drop. With Rory, this appeared to be when the rest of the band
took a break and out came the acoustic guitar and the audience switched from a
frothing mass, to hypnotised mesmerism. A feral monster who could make his
Strat wail, he had an altogether different touch on his D35 acoustic.
‘Out On The Western Plain’ first made its
appearance in 1975’s Against The Grain. The rest is pretty much history. It’s
one of the ultimate Rory performance pieces. Written by Lead Belly in 1943, it
has seen many cover versions over the years from John Denver to Van Morrison. I
think we can get away with being biased here on favouring Rory’s version!
‘Out On The Western Plain’, also known
variously as ‘Out On The Western Plains’, ‘Cow Cow Yikky Yea’ and several other
titles depending on who covered it, is one of Lead Belly’s most popular songs.
It formed part of a set Moses Asch got Lead Belly to record called Negro
Folksongs As Sung By Leadbelly (sic).
Lead Belly, born Huddie William Ledbetter
on 23 January 1888 on a plantation near Mooringsport, Louisiana, is arguably
the man who gave modern popular music it’s foundation. Just about every major
musician cites him as an influence, from George Harrison to George Ezra. Other
famous Lead Belly songs include ‘In The Pines’ (covered by Nirvana), ‘Goodnight
Irene’ and ‘Boll Weevil’. He covered everything in his music from racism,
cotton picking, dancing and notable figures from President Roosevelt to Adolf
Hitler (‘Mr Hitler’, 1942)
His life alone could have made the topic of
a classic blues song. By 1902, Lead Belly was already working as a musician and
performed around Shreveport, developing his own unique style influenced by what
he encountered. However, he was beset by several run-ins with the law, which
saw him serve a few sentences in prison. Legend has it that his musical ability
got him released from a murder sentence in 1925 when he impressed the Texas
Governor Pat Morris Neff! Though some do question the accuracy of that.
Folklorist father and son duo John and Alan Lomax found Lead Belly in prison at
any rate and their recordings of him promoted his stature as a musician.
Out of work during the Great Depression of
the 1930’s, Lead Belly persuaded John Lomax to employ him as his driver for a period
to avoid being returned to prison after early release for not being employed.
‘Legal issues’ aside, Lead Belly had a successful music career, with several
recordings, live performances and even a weekly radio show to his name. He died
on 6 December 1949 in New York City from ALS or Motor Neurone Disease and laid
to rest at Shiloh Baptist Church cemetery in Mooringsport, Louisiana. He is
very much worth looking into if you want to find out more.
During his extensive acoustic set at
Rockpalast 1976, Rory describes Lead Belly as ‘King of the 12-string’ in his
introduction to ‘Out On The Western Plain’ (see video above), though, as he
also adds, he’s going to try it on a six-string ‘with a bit of a Celtic tuning
to it – I hope you enjoy this.’ Watching Rory talk and introduce each song on
footage of his live shows (yes, the curse of being born too late), it’s as if
he’s not quite sure of his ability to deliver the goods musically, befitting
his now rather famous quiet nature.
Of course, he starts playing, the audience
are spell-bound and respond with a very enthusiastic applause, which in a
nutshell, summarises the effect each time Rory playing ‘Out On The Western
Plain’ seems to have had on his audiences. Even Glasgow, reputed for having a
difficult crowd to please, and where back in the music hall days, acts who
failed to amuse were pelted by rivets from the shipyards, fell under the spell
of Rory playing this song.
Acoustic guitar, being more stripped back,
is what is said to really show the calibre of a guitarist. It’s very easy to
tell when someone with a basic skill plays, usually sticking to simple chords
and strumming. Rory utterly owns the acoustic and ‘Out On The Western Plain’ showcases
his playing at it’s very best. A 6-string seems like a basic musical
instrument, but in his hands, it becomes so much more. He shows the
possibilities. His tuning on ‘Out On The Western Plain’ is apparently
influenced by that developed by Martin Carthy, a guitarist Rory greatly
admired, notable for working in alternative tunings.
There is a great depth to Rory’s version of
‘Out On The Western Plain’. It doesn’t seem like it’s just one man and his
guitar, it sounds like a band, thanks to what seems like more than one sound
coming from the guitar at the same time. And it’s something you find yourself
going back to again and again because frankly you just can’t get enough from
hearing it just once. The song transforms from American folk blues to a Celtic
folk classic in a way that only Rory Gallagher can pull off.
In 1975, Rory Gallagher may have found a
new confidence in his music. This was the year he signed with Chrysalis
Records, having fulfilled his 6-album contract with Polydor and finding them to
be a little lacking in support – Chrysalis appeared to offer a better way
forward. And of course, 1975 was also the year when he was supposed by the
press to have joined The Rolling Stones following the departure of Mick Taylor.
Though the rumours of Rory the Stone were short lived, as after spending a few
days in the studio with them, he left and undertook his tour of Japan.
The Stones’ loss was certainly the Rory
fanatic’s gain at any rate.
At this point, the line-up of The Rory
Gallagher Band had been in place for a few years. As Dónal Gallagher writes on
Rory’s website in the notes for Against The Grain, “The
band’s line up had been unchanged since Blueprint with Gerry McAvoy on bass,
Lou Martin on keyboards, and Rod de’Ath on drums. After years of playing and
recording together a musical understanding and trust had developed within the
group that resonates throughout the entire album.”
Released on 1 October
1975, Against The Grain was recorded at Wessex Studios in the summer of that
year. Upon its release, it was enthusiastically received, Rolling Stone (the
magazine, not the band!) writing, “Against the Grain is a studio set but there's no reason why it should be.
The basic sound is, as e er, one man and his guitar and the production (by
Gallagher himself) subsumes all else in it. Gerry McAvoy and Rod de'Ath are an
unselfish and intelligent rhythm section, Lou Martin moves as efficiently on
boogie piano as on pub organ, Rory gets through the lyrics throatily and
effectively—but they're all servants, putting the guitar at ease as it growls
and swoops and bites and relaxes. Gallagher needs few devices for his
pleasure.”
The review certainly
catches the mood of the album. As well as having Rory’s cover of Lead Belly’s “Out
On The Western Plain”, now the stuff of acoustic legend, it also featured
“Souped Up Ford”, a track which captures the freedom of the open road, both
musically and lyrically. In keeping with the motoring theme, it’s safe to say
Rory puts the pedal down and goes to town (swooping down the open highway, of
course), with Gerry, Rod and Lou close behind in his wake.
The song opens with a
slide solo that sustains for the duration as Rory sings about escaping town and
hitting the road in what he sees as the only suitable car, the souped up Ford,
of course. It captures perfectly the stripping away of the tensions getting
away and heading somewhere new gives us:
“No highway cop's gonna make me stop, What I've started. 'Cos I won't be free till I get
up, And go where my heart is.”
And the backing of the
band emphatically helps Rory get to where he wants. The piano of Lou
complements Rory’s slide guitar beautifully, as it seems at times, they both
duel the instruments. Rory’s prowess as a guitarist is widely recognised. Lou,
as a pianist, deserves the same attention. He is the perfect partner to Rory’s
playing.
Lou was born in Belfast
on 12 August 1949 and trained in classical piano. He may have been destined for
a career as a music teacher, but the blues bug bit, and in 1968, he joined the
blues rock group, Killing Floor. This was also the same band where Lou
encountered Welsh drummer Rod de’Ath, born 18 July 1950 in Saundersfoot. Both
came into the sphere of Rory Gallagher when Gerry McAvoy answered Rod’s advert
for a flatmate in London, Gerry turning up to view the flat decked out in his
finest suit, to Rod’s great amusement! Following the departure of drummer
Wilgar Campbell from Rory’s band in 1972, Rod was brought in as the new
drummer, Lou quickly following on piano and keyboards. Rory was not only
impressed at Lou’s playing ability, after being invited by Rod to hear his mate
on piano, he was also happy with the fact that Lou was a fellow blues nerd.
Rod has been unfairly
maligned by who can only be described as stuffed up snobs as a drummer. Gerry
described him as the ‘most undrummerlike drummer’ he’d played with. It’s quite
hard to put into words what Rod brought to the drums, but it was something
else. His playing added immensely to Rory’s distinct sound, which can be heard
to great effect in ‘Souped Up Ford’. Rod started on piano, but packed it in,
later saying he somewhat regretted stopping. Rod’s father was a musician with
his own group. When Rod was about 16, the group’s drummer died of a heart
attack, so Rod, with a quick lesson from his dad, was brought in as a
replacement.
Even after their
departure from Rory’s band in 1978, Lou and Rod played together. They formed
the group Ramrod, played on tour with Chuck Berry in Europe, worked with
Screaming Lord Sutch, Mick Clarke and The Downliners Sect. Sadly, Rod’s career
was cut short in the late 1980s following a horrific accident where he fell
down a flight of stairs running to catch a train, and sustaining a head injury
that left him unable to play. Lou’s career carried on, and he also returned to
guesting with Rory on the Defender album and at an acoustic set in 1993 at what
was ultimately Rory’s last Irish show at the Cork Institute of Technology,
given in memory of its former principal Dr James Roche, who was Rory’s uncle.
Lou was beset with ill health, suffering a series of strokes. He passed away on
17 August 2012. Rod himself sadly passed a couple of years later 1 August 2014.
Both are very fondly remembered as outstanding musicians.
And both, no doubt,
were highly familiar with Rory’s beloved Ford Executive car, which appears to be
an inspiration for ‘Souped Up Ford’. All things considered, there can’t be as
many people who have clocked up as many miles as Dónal Gallagher did driving
his older brother everywhere, from tours to trips to guitar shops. Rory himself
never learned to drive until much later as he was so busy with guitar. As an
aside, Dónal incidentally was born in Derry on 9 August 1949, only three days
before Lou’s arrival in the world. Dónal learned to drive in his teens when he
started working with Rory as Taste’s roadie. Rory got the Ford Executive for
band use following the split of Taste. It was a car that seemed to have taken
in a few adventures.
The one that made the
car so special to Rory was the fact that it was approved by his biggest hero,
Muddy Waters. Rory was invited to play on The London Muddy Waters Sessions.
However, Rory was also scheduled to be on tour when the sessions were booked. Dónal recalls standing at the side of the stage
beckoning Rory to come off as it was time to head to the studio, but Rory being
Rory carried on with the encores. Eventually he made it to the car and sat in
the passenger seat worrying that he was going to be fired for being late,
getting little sympathy from Dónal at the wheel, who pointed out there was no need for so
many encores as he literally put the pedal to the floor to get from Leicester
to London in good time.
Muddy had held up the
sessions awaiting Rory, who arrived a bag of nerves, apologising profusely,
only to be handed a glass of champagne by the great man and told to enjoy
himself. Meanwhile, Dónal found that he had literally taken the rubber off the
tyres driving to the sessions. He then found himself driving Muddy about in
Rory’s car, Rory having put the Ford Executive at Muddy’s disposal. Muddy was
still in a considerable amount of pain following a bad car accident and said to
Rory that the Ford Executive was the first car in Europe he had felt
comfortable in, being able to stretch out. That was that. Rory refused to ever
part with the car, even as a scrappable heap. It wound up sitting in front of
his mother’s house in Cork for years, until she eventually arranged for it to
be moved after Rory’s death. It’s safe to say that ‘Souped Up Ford’, with
adventures on the road and Muddy Waters perhaps went far beyond a song for
Rory.
(This is an extra special post as its timing takes in key dates of people central to Rory and his music:
Rod de'Ath RIP, who passed away on 1 August 2014
Lou Martin RIP, born on 12 August 1949, passed away on 17 August 2012
Dónal Gallagher, Rory's brother, manager, keeper of the legacy and of course driver of the Souped Up Ford itself, whose birthday is 9 August, which happens to be today! Happy birthday!)
Albums: Photo-Finish (1978), Notes From San
Francisco (2011)
What would become the Photo-Finish album
was something of a tumultuous affair for Rory Gallagher. It took in two
line-ups of the Rory Gallagher band, two recording studios in different continents,
a broken thumb, one producer regarded for his work with Neil Young and another
who had just worked with Paul McCartney. The result, however, was stunning.
It started with Rory flying into San
Francisco in late 1977 with Gerry McAvoy, Rod de’Ath and Lou Martin to work
with Elliot Mazer at his studios. Things began to unravel with Rory concluding
that the result was decidedly not the sound he was wanting. Remixing didn’t
work and, in the end, Rory literally binned the acetate on the day it was due
to be played to executives from Chrysalis Records. His day didn’t improve when
he broke his thumb trapping it in a taxi door, which had him off guitar for six
weeks. And while he was recovering, the line-up of the group with Rod and Lou
was formally ended.
Thumb healed; Rory set about looking for a
new drummer. Several auditioned, including Brendan O’Neill, Gerry’s friend
since school, though it wasn’t the time, with Brendan being a keen jazz drummer
and wanting to make a go of things with his own band, Swift. Alex Harvey had
recently split his own group, the Sensational Alex Harvey Band, and his former
drummer Ted McKenna was called in to audition with Rory. It worked out well.
Ted was described by Gerry as being one of
the loudest drummers in Europe. Alex perhaps helped in this as he would run up
to the drums and shake the cymbals if he felt Ted needed to pack more punch
into it! Ted already had a fair bit of intense experience on the road with the
SAHB. Rory was about to raise that further. The new line-up had its first live
appearance at the Macroom Mountain Dew Festival in June 1978. Ted recalls
wondering what he had gotten himself into, staring at his bleeding hands and
Rory seemingly on the verge of collapse with exhaustion. Then they went back for
an encore...
July and August were taken up with the
recording of Photo-Finish at Dieter Dierks studios in Cologne. Rory returned to
his old role as producer, with Alan O’Duffy, who had just worked with Paul
McCartney on Wings Venus And Mars album, as co-producer. ‘Overnight Bag’ the
fifth track on Photo-Finish, was one of the songs kept over and reworked from
the Mazer sessions. As a result, the song also appears on Notes From San
Francisco, released in 2011 after being remixed by Rory’s nephew Daniel, who
has done excellent work in recent years keeping Rory’s fire burning.
‘Overnight Bag’ seems, based on the music
alone, quite a jaunty rocker, but the lyrics are in stark contrast. Dónal: “The melodic lyrics of this track describe the lonelier side
of life on the road, where Rory spent so much of his time.
“Trapped by a heartache, and
freed by my will Sentenced to wander, so much time
to kill Hear my plea, and rescue me
Packed my sorrows in an overnight
bag But I'll be gone much longer than
that Who knows when, we'll meet again?
Too many sleepless nights, put my
soul on edge And so many restless moods, lay
heavy in my head.”
The guitar solo is
regarded by fans as one of Rory’s finest, though the poignant lyrics have
caused some to ask why Rory wrote them. Dónal, with whom Rory was very close,
on being asked about it suggested that at that time, he was often off the road
to deal with the managerial side of things while Rory was on tour, and that
Rory may have been feeling homesick as a result.
(Notes From San Francisco Version)
Listening to the two
versions of the song between Photo-Finish and Notes From San Francisco, you can
hear a considerable difference. The original San Francisco version is very
busy. Rory’s voice sounds as though it has been double tracked and there is the
interplay between his guitar and Lou’s piano. Rory may have had a point about
the sessions not sounding like him. It’s very noticeable that Mazer took a
complex approach - perhaps going for the radio friendly and chart busting route
that had gotten hits with other albums he had worked on.
The thing is, Rory’s
sound is very uniquely, well, Rory. He was a musician who knew what he wanted
and how to achieve it. He gave his musicians leeway to work their own way to
the sound, Rory stepping in with some guidance if he felt they were a little
off the mark. As good as Mazer was and Notes From San Francisco is an
outstanding piece of work, it’s also notable in its divergence with what Rory
was developing.
Trying new things is
great for any musician. But an issue arises when record companies tweak the
style and sound to what they see fit. It does beg the question what is the
point of taking on an artist, only to considerably change them?A lot don’t even seem to get much say in this
process. But Rory had his head screwed on in that he refused to bend to any
industry whims. It frustrated a lot of people, but he stayed honest to himself
as a musician and that’s part of his drawing power.
‘Overnight Bag’ on
Photo-Finish is a much calmer affair, with drums, bass and guitar. And Rory’s
vocals having no studio tricks. It’s my personal favourite of both versions,
being a little easier on the ear. One interviewer even asked Rory if he had
taken singing lessons for working on the album as his vocals seemed stronger
than ever on it. Or perhaps it could be that in going back into the studio to
redo things, one thing Rory absolutely ensured was that his voice, with no
fripperies and tricks, was unmistakably his on Photo-Finish.
Rory Gallagher was something of a bookworm.
His brother Dónal once told a tale of loading baggage at an airport whilst on
tour. He picked up one of Rory’s bags and promptly injured his back. Upon
opening the bag to see what on earth weighed so much, Dónal found himself looking
at a massive stack of books Rory had packed to read whilst on the road. Then
there was also talk among some fans recently discussing Rory’s reading habit of
Dónal opening guitar cases and Rory’s reading pile falling out everywhere. The
e-reader was certainly invented for book fiends like Rory, though preferring
more old school ways, it was suggested in this same fan discussion that Rory
probably wouldn’t have gone for the Kindle (even though it perhaps has benefits
in not injuring your wee brother’s back).
Rory was a fan of hardboiled detective
stories and mysteries and had read that in great quantities. Amongst his
favourite authors were Patricia Highsmith, Raymond Chandler, and Dashiell
Hammett. The influence of what he read was quite marked on his music and can be
seen from the start of his solo career. But looking over his output, it appears
that the detective genre perhaps influenced him the most, given the number of
gangsters, detectives, and criminals who feature as characters in his songs.
Rory may have had a few detective tales in
him had he ever turned his hand to writing novels and short stories. One of his
favourite books was The Continental Op, a collection of seven short
tales about an unnamed private detective who worked for the Continental Detective
Agency, by Dashiell Hammett. Rory liked it so much, that he wrote a song called
‘The Continental Op’, which appeared on the Defender album, first released on 1
July 1987. Rory discussed his love of Dashiell Hammett’s work in 1991 with Shiv
Cariappa, who asked if the song was a tribute to Hammett:
“It is, yes, indeed. It is his character,
the Continental Op, a very vain detective, and I just wrote that one night
after reading various stories of his, you know. He’s got a book of short
stories called The Big Knockover, and the “Op” is in that. I’ve also got quite
a few books on the life of Dashiell Hammett, which is quite an interesting
story on what he’s been through and so on. And I wrote songs like Big Guns
which is about a guy who has bitten off more than he can chew. It is about a
small-time crook. He’s got to the point where he has no friends in the
underworld and the police want him as well. And I used a similar type of guy,
but more innocent, in the song called Loanshark Blues.”
Dashiell Hammett was born on a farm near Great
Mills, St Mary’s County, Maryland on 27 May 1894. He was an operative for the
Pinkerton National Detective Agency from 1915 to 1922, with a spell serving in
the Motor Ambulance Corps during the First World War, though he was
hospitalised after catching The Spanish Flu, and subsequently Tuberculosis.
This had a detrimental effect on his health. Hammett became disillusioned and
subsequently left the Pinkerton Agency after it was hired for strike breaking
and led to him becoming a leftist activist. He joined the Communist Party in 1937
and was strongly anti-fascist during the Second World War. He re-enlisted in
the US Army during this despite his poor health, and this service saw him
develop Emphysema. After the war, his left leanings lead to all sorts of legal
complexities, including imprisonment. In the latter stages of his life, Hammett
was described as something of a hermit. He died on 10 January 1961 two months
after being diagnosed with lung cancer and is interred at the Arlington
National Cemetery.
Hammett’s first stories started appearing
in 1922, the year he left the Pinkerton Agency and Hammett used his experiences
as an operative in writing his detective fiction. The Continental Op appeared
in 36 short tales and some novels. Primarily, the tales appeared in the Black
Mask pulp magazine through the 1920s. The character is seen as one of the first
of the hard-boiled detectives, the forerunner to Hammett’s Sam Spade and
Raymond Chandler’s Philip Marlowe and many others, whom I have no doubt Rory
read the majority of at some point. Many of the Continental Op tales were later
collected into various volumes, The Continental Op collection appearing
in 1961.
The Op works for The Continental Detective
Agency, which unsurprisingly has strong similarities to the Pinkerton National
Detective Agency, which was established during the 1850s by Alan Pinkerton. One
of the agency’s early operations was foiling an early assassination plot
against Abraham Lincoln shortly after his election. Pinkerton operative Kate
Warne was deployed to protect Lincoln during a long train tour from his
hometown of Springfield, Illinois to Washington DC. Warne did this using several
disguises – and by staying awake the entire time, which inspired the Pinkerton
catchline “We Never Sleep”. The agency still exists today. In just one song,
Rory has opened us up to a fascinating history.
All of this feeds beautifully into the song
‘Continental Op’. The lyrics themselves are as complicated as one of Hammett’s
Op tales:
"Jane Doe in the bay
Now that's exhibit 'A'
Bloodstains on the dress of the millionairess
But I saw you leavin' town
I'm gonna have to track you down
Just like a hound
You slipped through the web
And you might have dodged the Feds
But who they gonna get when you've outfoxed the cops
Here's my number
I'm the Continental Op
Call the agency, we never close
First consultation is free
Check my reputation, check my pose
But first check my fee."
As to the raw sound of the song, Rory said,
“Main guitar was my Eccleshall Telecaster with Gibson PAF’s, lead phrases were
a white Tele, but the slide was the Gretsch Corvette through an AC30. The sound
was basically like an old-fashioned radio blowing up. I don’t like fuzz guitar
actually, just amps that are getting ready to blow!”
If anything, what ‘Continental Op’ shows is
that at times there is no such thing as a song just being a song.
The mind might boggle when looking at the
extensive touring schedule of Rory Gallagher (the dates being preserved
historically online and also noted daily on his social media) at how he managed
to fit in the time to write and record new material. But manage it he did.
Songs could come to him while noodling
about on guitar, or at random moments, for which he carried around a notebook.
One such memorable occasion has already been recounted in a previous entry to
this series when Rory got separated from his brother Dónal
during a walk along the Ballycotton Cliffs and sat down to write down some
lyrics that came to him, as Dónal’s calls to him went unheeded. When the
inspiration hits, it hits!
In the case of ‘Daughter Of The
Everglades’. Rory drew inspiration from a book he
had read. The song appears on ‘Blueprint’, released on February 18, 1973. It’s
quite unusual, with a strong folky feel and almost a touch of the Southern
Gothic. One way to describe it is that it is a novel in a song. It’s not the
only track of this nature on ‘Blueprint’, the other being ‘Seventh Son Of A
Seventh Son’.
If anything,
‘Blueprint’ seems to mark a point in which Rory was taking his songwriting
further into the depths of his imagination, as well as finding inspiration in
the presence of new bandmates, including the addition of pianist Lou Martin as
the fourth part to Rory’s previous trio setups. In his
notes on ‘Blueprint’, Dónal writes that ‘Daughter Of The Everglades’
‘highlights Lou’s contribution to the band’. Switching
drummers from Wilgar Campbell to Rod de’Ath following the former no longer
being able to carry on with Rory’s tour schedule, also switched things around
in Rory’s sound. ‘Daughter Of The Everglades’ is certainly proof of that, Rod’s
drumming having both an uncanny and earthy element. It would be curious to be a
time-traveling fly on the wall to see it all come together at the recording
sessions of December 1972 at the Polydor and Marquee Studios in London.
The sound certainly
sets the scene. When you listen to ‘Daughter Of The Everglades’,
it feels as if you are being
transported to the cinema at some point in the earlier half of the 20th
century to see a brilliant but slightly forgotten movie set in the rural
American southern states in which, a love story plays out. And the lyrics punch
home the remarkable character of the Daughter who Rory’s first-person
protagonist falls in love with:
"Well, you looked like your mama Before you
walked, you swam Learned to
makes snake tails stew From your
daddy, a crazy talkin' fisherman In this
place there is no law; the river makes all the rules What they
are I found out When I came
back to look for you."
But while winning his heart, there is also an inexplicable
supernatural element that strikes fear into Rory’s character, yet he can’t pull
away:
"Daughter of the Everglades Why did you
bring me here? Daughter of
the Everglades My love has
turned to fear Child of
the river Let me feel
you near."
The lyrics also describe a habitat ‘where the river makes all
the rules’. There is a certain mysticism to be found around places like
environments such as the Everglades, an area unique to Florida. The Everglades
is in the southern tip of Florida, forming a 1.5 million acre wetland that is a
national park. Even the generic Google description of the place as a ‘slow-moving
river’ with marshes, pine Flatwoods, mangroves, and all sorts of fauna from
leatherback turtles, manatees, and the Florida panther smacks of the ethereal. Add
to that, it’s the largest subtropical wilderness in the US, so there is plenty
of scope for the imagination to run, as Rory’s certainly did. He even describes
strange noises and eyes hidden peeking out from the reeds.
The eponymous Daughter also comes across more like a genius loci,
or spirit of the place, her nature mirroring that of the Everglades. In the
song, she’s taken miles away to live in a city, the result (or peril) of
falling in love. But away from the Everglades, she seems to wither and, in the
end, disappears, eventually tracked back by her lover to the Everglades. But
it’s not good news for him when he gets there and asks her whereabouts, ‘But
they tell me you have drowned.’
