Tag Archives: Rory Gallagher

Blue shades of green

I mentioned in the last post that after Rory Gallagher died in June 1995, The Guardian published an appreciation that I sent them … I wrote in my diary at the time that it was ‘quite heavily edited down, and somewhat disappointing’. Anyway, Milo expressed an interest, so I’m posting it here for him – he has an excellent Gallagher tribute blog here. This is the edited-down version, for what it’s worth; I no longer have the longer piece that I wrote originally.


Blue shades of green

If asked to choose seminal music footage from my teenage 1970s, when my part of Ireland was a single-channel area lacking even Top of the Pops, I might consider Planxty, Horslips, Bob Dylan or Steely Dan. But in the end I would choose Rory Gallagher, probably performing in a three-piece band at some festival on the European mainland with the song title misspelt on the screen; singing, seeming to play rhythm and lead guitar simultaneously, or acoustic guitar and harmonica, or maybe mandolin. Long hair, check shirt, closed eyes, jeans, sweat, wild rhythm and blues. This was as exciting as music could get. It still is. Continue reading


Filed under Death, Ireland, Memories, Music

Sean’s music 13 … Oasis

Sean listened to Oasis quite a lot … one more part of the soundtrack to his life, and mine. His favourite tracks were the ones in the clips below. We bought Stop the Clocks, a compilation double CD, some years back, and used to listen to it in the car. It was one of those that we all liked; good melodic songs from a guitar band.*

I have a vivid memory of driving down our road on a sunny evening in the summer of 2009 with Sean in the passenger seat and our neighbour Andy in the back, on our way to play Astroturf football, with the irresistibly upbeat ‘She’s Electric’ on the CD player. A happy time, with no worries and no notion of what the future held.

‘Cigarettes and Alcohol’ reminds me that Sean was quite keen on both … part of his philosophy of living life to the full. He never smoked (nor swore, for that matter) in front of his mum or me, and we found out only quite recently that he had been smoking for a few years (there are various photos of him with a cigarette). I disapproved strongly, and pestered him to quit. I think he would have, as he was quite health-conscious. He was in a social scene where a lot of people smoked; he would have moved on. He had been talking to his mother about making changes in his life. Continue reading


Filed under Death, Ireland, Memories, Music