And so, as we mourn the tragic passing of Eddie Van Halen, we find ourselves provided with a timely reminder of another remarkable artist. Marking twenty-five years since Rory’s death, this new Best Of… arrives to celebrate a truly remarkable career. Although, on the one hand, such a release could be seen as redundant given the exhaustive Blues set released last year, any opportunity to revisit Rory’s back catalogue is most welcome, especially one that carries the incentive of an unreleased take on the Stones’ classic (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction, featuring the awesome talents of Jerry Lee Lewis. Moreover, where Blues was an exhaustive dive into Rory’s soul via unreleased material, BBC session and album outtakes; this two-disc, thirty-song set, features the biggest cuts from across Rory’s career, kicking off with his band, Taste, and running the gamut right up to 1990’s Fresh Evidence.
Compiled with care, the compilation eschews chronological simplicity to dart around Rory’s catalogue in the manner of a set list. With the bulk of Rory’s albums allowed either two or three cuts apiece, the set perfectly details Rory’s ferocious talent and the fluid grace with which it moves from track to track suggests that this is no simple cash in on a remarkable career, but rather a lovingly compiled mix tape from one true Rory fan to another.
With a sense of synchronicity, the set opens and closes at the beginning – kicking off with What’s Going On from Taste’s 1970 On The Boards LP and concluding with Catfish from Taste’s 1969 eponymous album. It is a wise choice to bookend the material with these cuts, not only because it showcases just what an awesome talent Rory was from early in the day, but also because it feels like a summation of a career that continues in our hearts, if not in reality. Much can be said of the timelessness of Rory’s approach to the blues that only a slight earthiness or excess of vocal reverb on a given recording gives any clue as to when the music was produced (and even then, it’s a sound that modern musicians frequently strive to recreate), and there can be no denying the flood of adrenalin that greets his explosive licks and tempestuous soloing.
What follows is an object lesson in pacing. Shadow Play simply explodes into life, the driving rhythm as insistent as when it graced Photo Finish in 1978, whilst the scratchy riffing of Follow Me reminds us that, at the time of 1979’s Top Priority, punk was in full flow. Not that Rory sacrificed his core sound, but a subtle toughening of production certainly helped to capture the fire of his live show in a way that the more restrained Tattoo (tracked in 1973) could not hope to emulate. From here on in, the disc ebbs and flows beautifully, very much as Rory himself might have sequenced proceedings, with tracks like the stunning Daughter Of The Everglades providing a lengthy period of calm (its frantic, organ-led denouement notwithstanding) that neatly leads us into the slinky bassline of Calling Card. It all feels so natural that you soon find yourself lost in the atmosphere Rory and his band evoke and, by the time you hit the hypnotic pulse of Just The Smile you’ll have entirely forgotten that this is a compilation produced years after the fact, so seamlessly does it all sit together.
The second disc is no less inspirational in its approach, kicking off with the blistering Bad Penny (from the indispensable Top Priority), and following it up with the evergreen Walk On Hot Coals. These are classic Rory tracks, and they slot together perfectly. Even Loanshark Blues, the only track to make the cut from 1987’s Defender sounds wonderful, and the inclusion of Wheels Within Wheels (from 2010 release Notes From San Francisco) helps to keep the compilation from simply repeating previous collections. However, the main enticement on disc two is the stunning collaboration with Jerry Lee Lewis. A cover of the Stones’ (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction, the outtake was tracked in 1973 as part of Jerry Lee Lewis’ The Session… Recorded In London With Great Guest Artists and has lain dormant in the vaults since then. Whether a great marketing ploy, or a wonderful find for Rory enthusiasts, the cut is a high energy take on a classic track (possibly archived because it eclipses the version found on the Complete Sessions release) and to hear Rory and Jerry sparking off one another is a treat.
Ultimately, the Best Of Rory Gallagher does exactly what all great best of packages should, it takes you out of the originals and showcases the talent of the individual (or band). Whilst it may well make you yearn for the albums, it also stands in its own right, so beautifully sequenced that you become lost in the flow, discovering the songs all over again and, to some degree, seeing them in a whole new light. A simple chronology could never compete with the loving care employed here, and the compilation will delight newcomers and old hands alike with its approach. 9/10
