#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

 

 

 

 

#22 - The Devil Made Me Do It

 Album: Jinx, 1982

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.

Notes:

See Dónal Gallagher's notes on Jinx Jinx - The Official Site of Rory Gallagher

Brendan O'Neill's autobiography Mr Sticks is available on Amazon.