FOR RORY Gallagher to start making any radical departures from
established style at this stage in the game would not only be out of
character, but also tantamount to musical hara-kiri or whatever the
Irish equivalent may be. Predictability is an intrinsic part of Rory’s
appeal, and the descriptions which spring to mind – honest endeavor,
dedication, professionalism may sound like patronizing clichés,
but they are true nonetheless. The fact is that Gallagher is a master
craftsman who knows his limitations and is more concerned with striving
for lasting perfection within them than making transient innovations.
In this respect ‘Calling Card’ is
everything you'd expect it to be, but a little bit more too. While Rory
is still a firm adherent to the blues and boogie tradition - typified
here by songs like ‘Do You Read Me’, ‘Secret Agent’ and ‘Country Mile’,
where the rhythm section ticks with the well oiled precision of a Swiss
watch and Gallagher launches into his exhilarating left hand runs -
there are signs of a greater diversity of mood too and of Rory’s
growing stature as a songwriter.
‘Moonchild’ (not the King Crimson
song) and ‘Edged In Blue’, for example, are both strong melodies which
has not always been Gallagher’s forte in the past. There is an
excursion into balladry as well with ‘I’ll Admit You're Gone’ which
boasts some exquisite bottleneck guitar playing, but is marred by a
rather tremulous and uncertain vocal. The standout track, though,
is ‘Jackknife Beat’, a hypnotic blend of subtlety and grit, balanced on
the venomous guitar work of Rory and some telling counterpoint piano
from Lou Martin which brings to mind the sort of rapport which Lowell
George and Bill Payne enjoy.
Producer Roger Glover has brought out
a crispness in the band's playing which their last outing, ‘Against The
Grain’, lacked, and the arrangements allow the other members in the
group - Martin in particular - to stretch out more. Gallagher’s guitar
playing is as immaculate as ever. He rarely rates a mention in
the roll-call of guitar heroes - which is the price of opting for
honesty rather than flash - but in terms of style, sensibility and
sheer artistry he is probably working closer to his blues origins than
nine out of 10 guitarists you'd care to name.
Gallagher represents the basics, but
as ‘Calling Card’ proves the basics can still come out sounding vital
and fresh. Mick
Brown This
review comes from the October 9, 1976 issue of SOUNDS Thanks to Brenda O'Brien for finding
and preparing this article reformatted by roryfan
