I file my Rory Gallagher records under "G" for Gallagher. Even if I
filed my records under a system other than alphabetical, such as Good/
Average/Disco, for example, Rory Gallagher would still be filed 'under
"G" but under this system it would be "G" for Good and not "G" for
Gallagher. But then I like my Rory Gallagher records quite a bit and so
I'd always be wasting time debating over whether to create a new
classification for them such as "E" for Excellent or "Gr',' for Great.
You can see how complicated it all would become. So I file all my
records alphabetically. BUT WHO CARES ANYWAY?
Well, no one should care, of course. The only point of the first
paragraph was to recreate in your mind a fresh attitude of APATHY.
"WHY BOTHER," is what your mind will shout to itself if my first
paragraph actually succeeded in instilling a fresh attitude of APATHY.
Listen, I went to all this trouble to instill a fresh attitude of
APATHY because that seems to be the attitude that everybody cops
whenever anyone is discussing Rory Gallagher records, or indeed, the
topic of Rory Gallagher in general. Exactly why no one seems to give a
rat fuck about Rory Gallagher is a puzzle to me, but then that's the
magic of mass APATHY; it defies reason.
It seems unreasonable to me that Rory Gallagher isn't a bigger rock
star than he actually is. Rory Gallagher was asked to join the god damn
Rolling Stones, for crissake! The Greatest Rock 'n' Roll Band In The
World cared about Rory Gallagher, cared enough in fact, to ask him to
join their band. I mean if the frickin' Rolling Stones can get that
excited about Rory Gallagher then why can't you, Mr., Mrs., and Ms.
John Q. Public?!
Perhaps instead of passing out swine flu shots the government should
administer mass ear inspections to make sure everyone can actually hear
all the incredibly scratchy blues licks that Rory Gallagher is picking.
But even mass ear
inspections may not be enough to break the wall of
APATHY that imprisons Rory Gallagher 'cause people have to want to
listen before they can hear anything and it's the nature of APATHY that
renders people want-less. Oh,
poor poor, L' Rory Gallagher ... better that people hate you than for
you to face all this indifference.
What a shame, Rory Gallagher, you can really play that guitar and your
voice scrapes the soul with its just finished two pints of Jack
Daniel's quality, but no one cares. No one cares. Rory Gallagher is
probably crying over a bottle of Guinness' Stout right this minute.
He's so alone.
And it wont even do any good for me to write about Rory Gallagher's
shiny new disc full of hot blue licks. It won't do any good to write
that the album starts with a patter of drum beats that will knock you
back to 1953 Chicago. No one cares enough about Rory Gallagher to be
knocked back, anyway, so I shouldn't even bother to draw an analogy
between Rory Gallagher and J.B. Hutto, and say nice things like Rory
Gallagher has taken the blues raunch guitar style to a new destination.
Or that Rory Gallagher's composition, "Country Mile," chugs down the
tracks like Aerosmith's "Train Kept A' Rollin' " never did.
Why bother to write anything on Rory Gallagher's really funny song
called "Secret Agent" about jealous/paranoid/lover type characters. No
one will give a poop, probably not even jealous/paranoid/ lover type
characters. Yeah, Rory Gallagher cries with more soul on "Edged In
Blue" than Clapton ever did, but it seems that nobody cares ... not
even Clapton. Rory Gallagher even finishes his album with a comedy
number, (which may be an emerging trend in rock albums, cf. Bob Seger's
Night Moves), about getting drunk and pissing on your shoes while
standing on your head. But what's the use, anyway?
When Rory Gallagher comes calling with his Calling Card, most people
won't care enough to get up and open the door. Look, you may be filing
this critic under "A" for Asshole, instead of "A" for Air Wreck, but
everybody has got to care about something and I happen to care about
Rory Gallagher 'cause he's more fun to care about than Guatamalian
earthquake victims with their heads pinned under a ton of adobe and
chicken feathers, or whatever. Air Wreck Genheimer This article comes from the March 1977
issue of CREEM
photo comes from an unknown source
reformatted by roryfan