Roisin Dwyer, pictured with the sleeves of the vinyl versions of Thin Lizzy's Live and Dangerous and Funky Junction Play A Tribute to Deep Purple Regardless of anything Tony Visconti might say! Phil intros the individual members of the band on ‘Baby Drives Me Crazy’, before the sound of the crowd baying for ‘The Rocker’ introduces the song that brings the most perfect live album EVER to its conclusion. Live and Dangerous is one of those rare things – a live album which makes you feel part of the experience of the gig itself. It is Brian Downey’s moment to shine on side four, with the percussive perfection of 'Sha-La-La’. The Hendrix-esque ‘Warriors’ spaces us out momentarily, before ‘Are You Ready?’ grabs us by the scruff of the neck and drags us back to the middle of the melee. It is perhaps the most perfect slice of live action in the history of rock ’n’ roll: opening with the extraordinary, resplendent double-whammy of ‘Cowboy Song’ and ‘The Boys Are Back In Town’, it blazes defiantly into one of Philo’s greatest songs, the mischievously confessional and teasingly revealing ‘Don’t Believe A Word’. Magnificent as Disc One is, however, it is when we hit side three of Live and Dangerous that things power majestically into full-on overdrive. Side two brought the seductive sway of ‘Dancing In The Moonlight' and the aching sense of loss that fuels ‘Still In Love With You’ – the latter in particular showcasing Robbo and Scott’s contrasting six-string prowess. There is still no album opener as exciting as the crowd chant before ‘Jailbreak’ revs up and twangs into gear, followed by the raucous ‘Emerald’ the yearning melody of the glorious ‘Southbound’ and the rollercoaster ride of Lizzy’s adrenaline-soaked version of Bob Seger’s ode to the teen queen, ‘Rosalie’. To be initiated.Įach of the four sides has a different mood. Who were these magical personae? And their cohorts with strange names like Bluesy Huey Lewis and Chalkie Davies? Rats and Radiators? It was my life’s mission to find out more. I devoured the information on the back cover. I remember on one occasion being caught short and banging on the bathroom door to be greeted with a yell of "No, I don’t know what bleedin' shoe size Phil Lynott wore!” My brother was in the bath. I quickly became a pariah, a pest to be avoided unless you secretly wanted to be subjected to another tedious interrogation. What did they know about Phil Lynott? What did they know about Thin Lizzy? What did they know about the music?Įvery hour brought a fresh grilling. There they were, resplendent with long hair, in red jumpsuits, with shining guitars, pulling outrageous poses – and, at the centre of it all, was a black Irishman! Its inside sleeves with photos of the men who were responsible for the life-altering sound. I wanted to be part of THIS… whatever it was.Īs quickly as I could, I saved up enough pocket money to buy my own precious objet d’art. The excitement that listening to the album generated defied description: I was transported to another state of being. Brian Downey’s thunderous but nuanced drums. What was happening to me? The music made me feel elated. I borrowed the 12-inch gatefold double-album vinyl artefact in all its weighty glory from my brother-in-law, recorded it onto BASF 90-min tape and, from then on, it was destined to be played continuously on the family stereo or on my older sister’s battered Sony walkman.Ī new world had opened up. My 13-year-old world changed utterly and inexorably on hearing Thin Lizzy’s Live and Dangerous for the first time.
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