GALLAGHER
: A MAN OF PRINCIPLE
A SOUNDS profile of a
musician who made it on his own terms
FIRST
TIME I interviewed Rory Gallagher we
met in a music store in Charing Cross Road and hiked off to the
nearest Wimpey for coffee. He was polite, seemed dedicated
and boundlessly enthusiastic about his music, and he was dressed in
denims and a plaid jacket.
This
week I
interviewed Rory Gallagher: we met in Polydor’s
office, did the interview in the boss's office suite. Rory was
polite, seemed dedicated and boundlessly enthusiastic, and was
dressed in denims and a plaid jacket.
Five
years and a great
deal of success seem to have made very little change in the
essential Rory Gallagher. He's got a few more quid in the
bank these days, his hair's cut neater, he sells more records and
plays to bigger audiences. That's happened to a lot of the people
who started out when he did, but what's unusual is that
while his music's developed along logical and identifiable lines,
it seems to have developed naturally, along his
lines.
When
you've seen people turning away from their music towards the golden
calf of 'The Charts'
in the past few years, especially people who's music and
ideas you'd respected, it does you a lot of good to meet a
man who doesn't evade your questions, who doesn't talk about
giving the people what they want, and who patently lives out a way of
doing things that he decided was right when it seemed both
comfortable and fashionable to do so, and then stuck to it as
fashions changed. It's even better to know that he's been
successful, more so than others who've been more malleable in
their ideals. Rory Gallagher's one of the few who's made it
on his own terms.
But
again, he seems
almost unconscious that there's anything particularly special
about it: you get the feeling that as far as he's concerned there's
no other way to behave. Though he's retained a kind of fierce
purity, he doesn't talk like a puritan. Though, innocence can
be counted as one of his virtues, he is by no means naive.
Sitting
in a record
company office surrounded by posters of the Osmonds and silver discs
by
god knows who, it's quite obvious that he's
not
exactly in his natural habitat, yet he accepts it with
equanimity. During the interview I asked him if he was aware of a
conflict between being a musician and being part of an industry
that could be as ruthless as the music business. Or rather,
accepting that the conflict exists, how he reconciles the two.
He
said words to the
effect that it didn't bother him. Perhaps he's been lucky, but he
doesn't feel he's had to make compromises, beyond those that
everyone accepts, and he's forged ahead making Rory Gallagher
music, kept his eye on business and hasn't been interfered with.
Then
there's the
question of singles: He's never released one, not here anyway,
and when you mention that he shrugs it off. “It hasn't
been me saying NO SINGLES! And anyway I haven't the power to stop
them releasing singles if they really wanted to,” he says. “But
I've never seen the point of putting one out, and I would never go
in and record specifically for a single. It's just that if you
have a good relationship with a company and they know you don't
want singles released…”
Anyway,
he said, he
doesn't like to make that much of a point of it, because then it
becomes kind of a reverse hype: “You start getting known for ‘no
singles’ ” which isn't the point either. Suffice it to say
you're unlikely to see Rory Gallagher on Top Of The Pops.
He
started off the
interview by talking about the way everything seems to have got back
to a kind of pre 1967 flavour, with the media keeping it's
eyes firmly glued to charts and selling points. His attitude was, I
suppose, mild mannered, a kind of ‘well, there's room for
everyone’, but on the other hand you can see he's none too
happy that things seem to have returned to the state he and his
contemporaries fought to break away from.
Coming
over from Ireland,
he had to scratch around for a few years “and it's still
the same for young Irish musicians,” he says, “you have to
be prepared to starve", but the start of his success
coincided with the end of the blues boom and the birth of what
we used to call the Underground, progressive music era.
Considering that he's carried the then fashionable attitude
through, did he still - or ever - consider himself
Underground?
“No,
I never
really knew what it meant. I suppose if you put me up against the
wall with a gun and ask me to chose between underground and showbiz,
then I`d identify more with underground.”
Not
showbiz then,
and in fact, as little biz as possible. When he disbanded Taste, he
made the decision to go his own way musically going out as Rory
Gallagher and finding musicians who were happy with that
situation and his own way as far as he could control his 'career'.
Since
then he hasn't
employed a manager. “I have a very good agent to handle all that
side of it, and I've got good
people working with
me - I just don't need a manager. Most people seem to have
managers to ring them up
in the morning to get
them to sessions and things like that. I don't need that. I
suppose if the right person came along, who I liked and trusted,
then he could maybe take over some of the things I have to look
after. But I'm not desperate for anyone.”
How
is it then that
almost all other musicians seem to need managers? “Oh – I think
there are a lot of lazy musicians.”
STEVE
PEACOCK
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Article
and photos from SOUNDS
December 15,
1973
Thanks to Brenda O'Brien for finding, typing and sharing this article!
reformatted by roryfan
253