IT IS possible to revert. I've
done it hundreds of times. If the atmosphere and the company are right,
an arcane riff from an aging hippy can still send shivers up the spine
and set the arms flailing wildly, albeit for less prolonged periods
than of old.
So with a skinful of black velvet and
a mind emptied of any notions of
objectivity, I staggered from the claustrophobia of the press box into
the warm embrace of the crowd below. Frustration and disappointment
awaited me.
Packed to the gills with raucous Irish
and not so Irish persons, the
tattered grandeur of the Lyceum reverberated to the chant of "Roaree!,
Roaree!" for a decade or so before the lights went down. Confronted
with
a sea of hands and fists, the object of affection greeted the crowd
with a cheeky grin and a toss of flyaway locks, and began the
ritual which has deteriorated over the years into empty ceremony." Blues-based light metal provided the
musical foundation, and backed by
bass and drums, he played the licks and made the moves that everyone
had come to hear and see. I never could tell whether it was the
audience or Gallagher himself who was pulling the strings.
Clad in gringo denim, mirroring most of the
audience, Gallagher posed, swiveled, jumped, did a comic stagger across
the stage and paused in the middle of solos to shake hands with the
fans. Rory was one of the boys. Rory's timing was impeccable, lest we
forgot, he was the one with the
real guitar.
He worked hard though, earned his
money, switching to acoustic for some
blues picking before returning to the axe that deafened with a
whirlwind of sound, spilling notes like entrails from the abattoir of
speakers.
Too stuffed to jump, the crowd
contented itself with shouting and
swaying, occasionally acknowledging a favourite song; like 'When I Was
A Cowboy' and the solo slide rendition of '31st Street'. The irony of
two titles, 'Follow Me' and 'I'm An Independent Man' ,went unnoticed as
they were greeted with equal idolatry. Even the prospect of Al Kooper,
who joined him for the second encore, failed to arouse in me anything
more than cursory interest.
Like a good demolition expert, once
Rory Gallagher's got it down , it
stays down. It works therefore
it is. But even reliable old
Status Quo sound fresh enough now to recruit a new bunch of headbangers
and I don't see too many young faces at the Lyceum.
Still it was St. Patrick's Day and was
therefore special. So special
that you couldn't wash your hands as the sinks were filled with vomit.
Looked for one new value. But nothing
came my way. Neil Norman This article is from a collection of
cuttings I bought awhile ago.
I don't have the source, but it appears to be from 1980 reformatted by roryfan
