FOGHAT
RORY GALLAGHER
Boogie
Motel (Bearsville)
Top Priority (Chrysalis)
Lotsa new rock ‘n’ roll out and around these days. Which is fine for us
jaded vinyl junkies who spend our time searching out new musical
surprises, but what about the rockers who have paid their dues over the
years, filling auditoriums with sound, sweat and cigarette butts? Do
they deserve to be flicked aside as fickle fashions fade? I say no, as
long as the music makes it.
But if the sound softens, like
on Foghat’s new LP, then you might begin to wonder. These guys have
been among the most best thump forward
boogie beasts on the circuit—subtlety ain’t in their song-book—so when
the energy begins to slide, what are we left with? A couple mediocre
ballads, some reasonable balling rhythms, and two, maybe three, tunes
that match the gung-ho grunge
they made their marks with. Everything’s
got typical lust-a-thon lyrics—nothing deeper than eight
inches here—so no
way can anyone talk about any new directions. Except maybe down. Hope Boogie
Motel’s just a rest-stop for these guys. Otherwise, the Foggies
could be
approaching fogiedom.
No worries on that
count about Gallagher, though; from the moment Rory roars into the
opening
bars of “Follow Me,” he lets us know he means business. He keeps his
power
chords full (but not fat), his leads lean and meaty, and most of his
tunes to
the point.
The thing that’s
always kept Rory apart from the pack is his attention to detail, even
when he’s
charging straight ahead. He controls his tones mainly with his
fingers, not a
bank of effects, and after a decade on the boards, he can still make
blues-based
material come alive.
And unlike most
rockers his age, Gallagher continues to push himself. His decision
last year
to strip his band back to a trio put the load squarely on his shoulders
and his
music is better off for it. Never an anonymous boogiemeister, he
tosses in
electric sitars and dulcimers for variety’s sake and even a potentially
bloated
blueser, “Off The Handle,” is saved by his fancy fretwork.
I don’t mean to go
overboard about the guy but his music really is better now than it has
been in years; you don't have to worry about dinosaur droppings when
this record's played, anyway.
Michael Davis
This
article comes from, the January 1980 issue of CREEM
reformatted by roryfan
355
added 6/16/07
