Archive for the 'commentary' Category

Jan 20 2010

The Forgetting of Rory Gallagher

Published by under commentary

kennedy assassinationConspiracy theories abound in this world. From the supposed Mafia-backed shooting of an American President to the U.S. Government’s hiding of dead aliens at a Nevada Air Force base, it’s always tempting to ascribe conspiratorial cover-ups to events whose causes seem not fully explained. Most of these conspiracy theories can be attributed to the overactive imaginations of a small segment of the population who to a certain degree are unable to assimilate themselves properly into modern society and distrust the methods of its governance. Though I certainly doubt there are any alien bodies lying in situ at the U.S Air Force’s Nevada Test and Training facility, I have to admit that certain conspiracy theories intrigue me. One in particular got my attention several years ago while reading guitar magazine interviews and talking to fans of the late, great Irish legend, Rory Gallagher. I quickly discounted it as being the fanatical rantings of die hard Rory Gallagher fans, but still it lay just under the surface of my consciousness, pricking my scalp anytime some bit of info no matter how tenuous gave credence to the theory. The theory is this:

The media for whatever reason has intentional tried to forget Rory Gallagher.

Sound crazy? You bet. By refusing to produce singles Rory was his own worst enemy. How do you remember a band if you don’t hear them played on the radio? Sure Rory in his prime got some playing time in the U.S. on college radio, but 30 years later how are you going to remember him if he’s not played on a Classic Rock radio show. The answer is you’re not. And more the pity because many of Rory’s songs would have made great singles.

For me, from tracks like ‘Tattoo’d Lady’ [from 1973’s Tattoo] all the way through to “Calling Card” [from the 1976 album of the same name], there were plenty of songs that would have been playable on the radio. — Donal Gallagher

It’s hard to jog the memory of the 40 or 50-somethings without an old hit single getting occasional play on the classic rock or “oldies goldies” radio stations. So to say that the press, particularly in the U.S., intentionally ignored Rory or that writers/editors purposely deleted any mentions of the man seem pretty far fetched.

Still, Rory sold millions of albums, toured incessantly, sold out countless venues, was highly regarded by established rock stars and granted interviews by the truckloads, and yet by the late 70’s and continuing on to the present day his name is hardly mentioned in the press. And this is where that conspiracy theory rears its ugly head. According to the theory, by the end of the 70’s the press was intentionally deleting mentions of Rory as punk, new wave and other media darlings hit the stage, and while punk, new wave, disco, etc. have faded from the music scene and are no longer the “flavor of the month”, the editing out of Rory’s music legacy continues even to the present day.

To a certain extent, one can understand Rory’s lack of press from the late 70’s and onward. Punk and New Wave had proven to be media darlings and most blues, jazz, or progressive rock bands were studiously ignored by the press, despite loyal fan support and continued success at the gate. Looking back at old concert reviews from that time, it is obvious that many of the music reviewers were no longer supportive of the Blues format and whined about it being derivative and the “same old, same old”. Only begrudgingly would they admit that the crowd had actually enjoyed what they heard. By the time the Blues had reemerged on the music scene in the mid-80’s, Rory’s touring and album production had slowed and health issues had started to crop up. Rory made just 2 albums from the mid-80’s until his untimely death in 1995. With so little being released and a diminished touring schedule, (particularly in the U.S. where Rory had completely stopped touring from 1987 onwards until his farewell tour of 1991) Rory’s absence in the press is somewhat understandable.

What drives a Rory fan crazy though is the lack of mention of Rory Gallagher since his untimely death. Articles on blues and rock guitarists never fail to mention the likes of Clapton, Beck and Page. Yet Rory beat out these same guitarists in the popular Melody Maker Best Guitarist Poll of 1972. So where is Rory’s name when the 60’s and 70’s blues movement is talked about? Interviews of other guitarists are spotty with the Rory mentions as well. Rory’s name comes up only sporadically when blues guitarists, new and old, list what guitarists influenced their style. I can’t count the times I’ve had to listen to a Rory Gallagher fan complain about one guitarist or another not giving Rory his due. What strikes me odd is how a blues guitarist, say Joe Bonamassa or Davy Knowles will claim being influenced by Rory in one interview and then completely forget about him in the next. You wouldn’t think your list of players that influenced your style would change from interview to interview. And this is where my scalp starts to itch, and where the point of this little diatribe finally arrives. You see, writers sometimes do mention Rory in their articles, guitarists sometime do mention Rory in their interviews. However, what is also true is that

Editors sometimes delete any mention of Rory Gallagher.

Take a look at this interview by Adam Perry of Robin Sylvester, the bassist for Bob Weir’s Ratdog. This is the full interview found on the writer’s blog:

Interview with Ratdog’s Robin Sylvester

Now take a look at the same interview once it was published in the Boulder Weekly:
Dog Days by Adam Perry

Notice what was missing? Yes, the Arts & Entertainment editor for the Boulder Weekly decided Rory Gallagher wasn’t worth the printer’s ink. Robin Sylvester was one of the engineers for Rory’s Irish Tour LP and the interviewer asked him about his time with Rory. Here’s the part that the editor edited out:

AP: What was it like performing and recording with Rory Gallagher? He seems like a mysterious figure in rock history who died too soon but will be discovered and appreciated more and more with time.

RS: A great player, and one of the nicest guys you could meet. His approach was more-or-less live in the studio, so my challenges were mostly along the lines of being ready to roll when he was. On Irish Tour 74 we were working against the clock. The mobile unit declined to be present in Belfast, turned up late in Dublin (during the opening act, Thin Lizzy) and we had to nail it in one night in Cork. Fortunately [Cork was] Rory’s home town and he put out a great performance. Nevertheless we put together side 4 from bits and pieces from the sound check. That contains some once-only edits, let me tell you!

I never performed publicly with Rory, though we jammed and fooled around a bit in the studio. I like to think that somebody somewhere has sat and listened to every tape and wondered who the wild and humorous jammers were! When he added a keyboard-player he told me later that the job was almost mine — how different my life would have been! I miss him still. — Robin Sylvester interview by Adam Perry

So why was Rory deleted from the article? The answer is far less ominous than say a conspiracy on the media’s part to wipe the memory of Rory from music history, but it’s no less damning. In the Boulder Weekly example the Arts & Entertainment editor had no music background, if space was needed, he was more likely to trim a music column, and if you’re going to trim something you don’t know, you take out the stuff about people you’ve never heard of — in this instance Rory Gallagher. The writer had posed a good question to Robin Sylvester about working with Rory Gallagher. He had done his homework and knew of Robin’s work with Rory, and knew a bit about Rory’s music legacy. Yet it was all for naught because the editor needed to trim the article and he deleted a name he didn’t know. I’m sure if Adam Perry had asked a question about Eric Clapton or Jimi Hendrix that bit would have stayed in. Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix are name brands that even 20-somethings will know. Sadly, you wonder how many great musicians have been slighted in this way, consigned to oblivion by editors who know so little about music. How many great musicians are edited out of interviews because their names wouldn’t “pop out” at the reader?

So maybe there isn’t any conspiracy of writers intent on keeping Rory’s name out of music history. Perhaps it is only a matter of musically challenged editors looking out for their own bottom line, selling more papers to the unwashed masses. Pity that, because there have been some great musicians in the past who deserve to be remembered, and played, and given a chance to influence the rising stars of the current music scene.

Share on Facebook

4 responses so far

Nov 16 2009

‘Til I Fall Apart

Published by under commentary

The latest Rory Gallagher CD, a 2-CD compilation titled “Crest of a Wave”, is getting a lot of play on my car stereo; it’s a good compilation that has a lot of my favorite songs on it. And while my favorite track on the cd is a pumped-up version of “Overnight Bag”, I find myself replaying over and over again a song that was included from his very first solo album — a song called “I Fall Apart”. I’ve always liked this song, but felt that the volume wasn’t properly balanced. I would turn it up at the beginning and then have to turn it back down half way through. The volume change is there for a reason I suppose, to accentuate the pain and hurt the fellow in the song is feeling, and trust me those feelings definitely worsen as the song progresses, until … well until he “falls apart.”

I think what strikes me most about this song is the anger in it. B.B. King once said, “The blues is an expression of anger against shame and humiliation,” and this song has got plenty of anger. The short clipped solos are downright violent and the chords come crashing down around you like an emotional thunderstorm. By the time the song finishes you’re wondering to yourself, “Good Lord, what has happened to this lad?” And whether intentional or not, this anger always reminds me of the emotional rollercoaster that Rory himself had just ridden — the bitter split up of Ireland’s first great rock group, ‘Taste’.

“Taste” was the Irish answer to that British Blues-Rock behemoth, “Cream”. Both groups formed in the summer of ’66 and while Cream’s guitarist Eric Clapton had already achieved a healthy measure of success with The Yardbirds and John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers, Rory’s star was just beginning to ascend. Roy Hollingsworth reported that, Taste was causing a storm throughout Europe – and their Irish tour brought scenes that can only be compared with Beatlemania. Unfortunately “Taste” lasted just a few short years, playing their last concert on October 24, 1970 at Queen’s University, Belfast. Many reasons have been cited for their break-up: from changes in the players musical direction, to squabbles over money, to arrogance and jealousy over Rory’s “star” status within the group.

The break up was a long torturous affair and ended with much of the media seemingly siding with the sidemen, Wilson & McCracken. Melody Maker wrote that Rory was putting himself in the front spot too often and was making a one man show out of it. Some of the negative criticism can be traced to Rory’s reticence over talking about the split. While Taste drummer, John Wilson, shouted from the rafters about Rory’s villainy , Rory stayed quiet, refusing to give the media any “fuel to the fire” except to cite the band’s change in musical directions as the reason for the split. How boring this must have seemed to Melody Maker who plastered the break-up on it’s front cover. Boring yet far more accurate than Wilson’s diatribes on Rory’s tyranny and greed. It would be years before Rory would talk about the acrimonious split.

when Taste split up, I never played a Taste song ever again. That was a very dreadful time for me. I just legally sorted it out. The musicians and myself now – we got no money. I got nothing. And the press all attacked me as if I was some kind of dictator. On my oath, I’ll tell you: it took me years. After Taste split up, I had minus nothing. I had to borrow money from my mother to even make the first album and then halfway through the album, the record company said: “We’re not supporting you!” It was traumatic! Can you imagine that with the press giving this impression? And all over Germany they’re writing this! — Rory Gallagher, Good Times 1993

You have to be careful about reading too much into a song. It’s hard to remain objective and not put your own feelings into an interpretation of it. Yet, to know the history of the events leading up to Rory’s first solo album, gives you a certain measure of the man. You get a small glimmer of where he’s coming from, what he’s feeling. And I think he’s feeling a lot. Mostly he’s angry; angry at his former manager who played both ends to the middle, angry at his former band mates who grew jealous of his rising stardom, and angry at those in the press who just several months earlier had pronounced him as the “Second Coming,” but now paint him in a far less flattering pose. And when Gerry McAvoy in his autobiography, “Riding Shotgun” calls Rory’s first solo album “a very mellow album”, and the song “I Fall Apart” a “very tender love song,” I have to disagree with him. I don’t hear a tender love song. I hear a man hurt by the people who once supported him. I hear a man who lashes back with searing guitar solos and short violent riffs at the emotional pain inflicted by his former associates. A damn fine song is what I hear, a damn fine blues song.


I Fall Apart

Like a cat that’s playing with a ball of twine,
That you call my heart,
Oh but baby is it so hard,
To tell the two apart?
And so slowly you unwind me,
‘Til I fall apart.

I’m only living for the hour,
That I see your face,
And when that happens,
I don’t wanna be no other place,
‘Til the end of time,
You’ll be on my mind.

I don’t mind,
Waiting for your love,
Borrowed time,
I’ve got plenty of,
Rain or shine,
Please bring out your love,
Make it shine,
Like the stars above.

I’m only living for the moment,
When I hear your voice,
Oh, I’m waiting,
I don’t have any choice,
And the day is long,
So won’t you come where you should be.

Like a cat that’s playing with a ball of twine,
That you call my heart,
Babe, is it so hard,
To tell the two apart?
And so slowly you unwind it,
‘Til I fall apart.

Share on Facebook

One response so far

« Prev - Next »