Nov 16 2009
‘Til I Fall Apart
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.
