Both can excite, you can listen to musicians on disk and very satisfying it can be too. You can go to see bands who've blown you away on albums but live they're dead wood. Dire Straits for instance. Watching them was like putting a cd on in a huge hall and watching the telly from 50 yards away. I've got loads of albums by people I've never seen. Some I'd never want to see. Conversely, there are acts you've heard on disk maybe, been unimpressed and then been staggered at how good they are live. Rarely does one come across one who can do both, produce studio albums of great force and emotion and reproduce it on stage. Even better it on stage. Then the live album gets released which again manages to combine those qualities and bring that stage presence right into your living room.
Rory Gallagher was one of those musicians. An Irish showband guitarist who came to England in the mid-60s after forming Taste to try and break out of the musically stultifying showband circuit, went solo and became an influence on artists ranging from Adam Clayton and The Edge, Slash and Stuart Copeland among others. I saw him four times. Three gigs were superlative, more of the fourth later. I first saw him on 25th of April 1978 at The University of Kent at Canterbury. It was the sports hall, A large building with a low stage and a big crowd, all standing. I knew little of him except what my mates had told me. I can't remember the set list what I can remember though, was an incredible feel-good atmosphere and some outstanding musicianship. What sticks in my mind was this head of long curly hair atop a plaid shirt moving from one side of the stage to the other, all of a sudden being thrown back and an arc of surplus perspiration being caught in the stage lights. I couldn't ever imagine that three men could create such energy from basic 12 bar rhythm and blues.
I left that hall bathed in sweat, determined to catch him as many times as my meagre finances would allow. Canterbury again on 20th September 1980, this time the all seater Odeon (now the Marlow Theatre) and then in 1984 at the Dominion in Tottenham Court Road. Different drummer but same hi-octane performance. Same feeling of exuberance on leaving. You really did leave the theatre feeling that you'd had a bloody good time. Goodness me, on the odd occasion I even threw a few shapes albeit after a peculiarly unique teenage fashion.
Strangely enough, despite my love of his live work I never got around to buying much of the recorded stuff, of which there was loads. All I had was a sampler on Polydor with about 6 tracks on it, an EP and "Jinxed". I later bought "Against The Grain" on tape. Oh and I had "On the Boards" by Taste from 1968, bought for a quid in junk shop. Taste were Rory's breakthrough band and were momentarily as big as the Stones (Rory was actually invited to join the Stones, I think prior to Ronnie Wood but obviously declined). I also had a few tapes of tv performances.
Finally this year, I got around to buying "Live in Europe". It was originally released in 1972 but this edition has been digitally remastered, has a couple of bonus tracks and was re-released in 1999. It has often been cited as one of the best live albums ever produced and I really can't argue with that description. Culled from concerts recorded during his 1972 European tour, it brings the full force of his astounding energy and uncompromising craftsmanship right into your front room. From the moment I first played it, I felt I was back in that Canterbury sports hall all those years ago.
The opening gives you the feel of actually being at a 70's concert. There were no flash stage sets for Rory, Just the three guys and an occasional keyboard player, a few guitar stands and an amp miked with a brick over the lead to hold it in place. He eschewed technical effects, just as he did overt commercialism. There's a bit of audience chatter, then a cheer as the m/c (sounds like a young Johnny Walker) announces a simple, "Rory Gallagher". You can imagine him walking on with that familiar battered '61 Strat (the curious patina of which was said to be caused by a reaction of the lacquering to Rory's apparently more acidic than usual perspiration). A bass hums as a string is hit, an amplifier buzzes as it's turned up and then it's straight into the simple few overdriven notes of the opening riff of "Messin' with the Kid", a none too complicated, simple three-chorder dominated by Rory's note-perfect soloing and Wilgar Campbell's ever present hi-hat. The tempo rises with "Laundromat", a perennial crowd pleaser and one which will always be a favourite of mine as it was the first recorded track of his I ever heard.
This is seamlessly mixed into a breathless Rory introducing the down tempo "I Could Have Had Religion" with its harmonica and slide opening. He was a genius slide guitarist as well as an accomplished harp and sax player. For those who care about these things, he didn't as far as I know, use any special tunings for slide work so if you're crap at slide like me, you can follow him with a standard tuning. This is followed by the acoustic "Pistol Slapper Blues", a song first recorded back in the 20s by Blind Boy Fuller. This and the following "Going to my Home Town" are included to illustrate the less raucous side of his set. He nearly always included an acoustic set during the show. Acoustic it may be, played on a mandolin even, "Going to me Home Town" is still a stomping crowd pleaser with audience participation well evident as is Rory's now more audible and slightly grizzled voice as he sings his own lyrics. It's a pleasing voice; often strained to breaking it but gives his music that edgy alcohol tinged colour that it requires. Listen hard and you'll find his phrasing is impeccable, there's nary a note out of place.
Next track is the self penned "In Your Town", an uncompromising rocker which leaps out of the speakers at scary volume after the previous track. Whether this was intentional it's hard to decide but it does remind you of what his live act was all about and that was energy. Loads of it. He would do a set which would put modern day artists to shame; two and a half hours was not uncommon. This track pounds along, driven by Campbell's metronomic drumming and Rory's understated slide work and economical vocalising, building in a feedback tinged crescendo towards a tight and abrupt ending.
Next follow two bonus offerings not included on the original issue, "What in the World", a pretty standard slow 12 bar blues with copious harp and slide, often played in harmony. This track and the following "Hoodoo Man", another slow blues stroll, are quite obviously from a different set, characterised as they are by the very slightly distorted quality and muffled vocals which appear to be sung through the harp mike. They do have their charm however, this was after all 1972 and PA technology wasn't what it is today and it does sound pleasingly authentic. During "Hoodoo Man" for instance you can almost see Rory teasing the audience during the quiet sections, poking his guitar at the front row, smiling in the knowledge that he had the crowd in the palm of his hand.
A screamed "Well did you ever...?" signals the final track. It's a fearsome rendition of Canned Heat's "Bullfrog Blues". It was his usual set closer and it became more or less his signature track. It's an unashamed romp; a glorious 6 minutes and 53 seconds of Rory at his sweatily energetic best. It contains an absolutely necessary bass solo from Gerry McAvoy and a simple drum section from Campbell which pulls you eagerly into the final half of the song and one of those trademark crashing endings of which he was so fond. Magnificent stuff and one for all of us closet bedroom players to only dream about emulating.
That fourth concert I mentioned earlier? The Town and Country Club in Kentish Town in 1993 I believe it was. I hadn't seen him for close on ten years and in that time he had become increasingly superstitious (he was always into the zodiac and astrology) and had developed phobias. These I heard he'd attempted to treat himself through an over-reliance on over the counter remedies. He did like a drink but I don't think he ever abused it although he was by now suffering from a liver disorder for which he was taking medication. A before show glass of whiskey or brandy to loosen his vocal chords reacted badly with these drugs and he arrived on stage very late and obviously very ill. He attempted to play but it was shambolic and he got a few heckles which were largely meant to be encouraging but he took it badly. He left the stage vowing never to play London again. He played one more show in the UK and a couple more European tours. He died in mid 1995 of complications following a liver transplant. It was a sad end to the career of one who was generally acknowledged by his many friends and acquaintances in the business he had graced for over thirty years, to be one of its nicest and friendliest practitioners.
This album amply illustrates his many talents as a writer and performer but it also stands out as a benchmark of the genre. One which few artists will ever come near to equalling. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1. Messin' With The Kid 2. Laundromat 3. I Could've Had Religion 4. Pistol Slapper Blues 5. Going To My Home Town 6. In Your Town 7. What In The World 8. Hoodoo Man 9. Bullfrog Blues
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