The cover photos on reissues of Rory Gallagher’s Against The Grain (released 10/31/75) are much preferable to the original graphic design’s contrivance. The close-up of the late Irishman’s Fender Stratocaster shows the guitar’s well-worn finish, an apt depiction not only of Gallagher’s rough-hewn blues-rock but also of the man’s stubbornly forthright aversion to commercializing his music in any way.
Rory Gallagher’s fifth studio album under his own name, since leaving the trio Taste in 1970, was also his debut for Chrysalis Records, where he would go on to record five more LPs. And perhaps indicative of this new beginning, these ten cuts proceed at virtually the same furious pace as the man’s concerts.
“Let Me In” is thus a fitting intro to these approximately forty-five minutes. Gallagher and his band–bassist Gerry McAvoy, keyboardist Lou Martin, and drummer/percussionist Rod de’Ath–burst from the gate in a full gallop and maintain that tempo for the duration. The succeeding cut is only slightly more temperate before it’s over, but “Cross Me Off Your List” nevertheless serves its purpose: to imbue dynamics to the track sequence.
The quartet again shifts gears higher for “Ain’t Too Good,” but only after the ensemble, appropriate to the title “Souped-Up Ford,” has attained near breakneck speed. Rory’s slide blazes through the latter, but indicative of his and the group’s collective command of instrumental balance, that schythe-like sound is no more prominent than the barrelhouse piano and equally earthy organ lines. (On “Bought and Sold,” too conga beats decorate and transform a slightly modified blues shuffle).
Having previously released only one cover version on a studio album, Against The Grain includes two, one by Leadbelly and one from the Porter/Hayes (Sam & Dave) songwriting team. The latter’s “I Take What I Want” is fully reflective of Gallagher’s borderline blustery persona, while the former’s “Out On The Western Plain” offers him greater breadth of instrumentation, featuring the acoustic guitars he would regularly use on stage.
Likewise, ‘wooden’ instruments add layers to the arrangement of “Lost At Sea.” The abiding intensity of Rory Gallagher’s recorded music hardly ever precluded the literal expression of emotion, and this title is hardly an exception. Still, the implicit yearning in the aforementioned cut hardly overshadows the abandon that seethes through “All Around Man.” Here, it is most obvious how Tony Arnold’s remixing and remastering for the reissues highlight the separation in the sound (which is oddly not quite so apparent on the 2011 edition).
Apart from those slight differences in audio quality as well as some of the graphic design, the reissues–released through the Capo label imprint overseen by the Gallagher family–are almost identical, right down to the inclusion of a pair of bonus tracks. Still, the abbreviated instrumental “Cluney’s Blues” and “My Baby, Sure” are indicative of the healthy detachment Rory Gallagher brought to his self-production of this LP.
The distillation of the entirety of the recorded material only further speaks to the prolific nature of an unfortunately unsung musician. Hindsight reinforces the progressively illuminating perception(s) of how each one of Rory Gallagher’s studio albums bore its own set of distinctions, in addition to a consistently high level of quality in material and musicianship.
But a retrospective of five decades applied to Against The Grain also calls to mind the tragic passing of the man thirty years ago. His following, now having grown and attained an almost feverish devotion to the man and his work, mirrors the loyalty of his community, which Gallagher steadfastly refused to compromise to widen his appeal. He knew full well that doing so would’ve diluted the potency of such albums as Against The Grain.
