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:
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!
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.
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.
See Also – Live In Europe (1972) and Irish
Tour ‘74 40th 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 40th 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
40th 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!
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.
