The first I knew of Link Wray was in 1971 when I read in Rolling Stone that Peter Townshend thought Wray was the greatest thing since sex (or something) because of two singles he'd released in the Fifties, "Rumble" and "Rawhide." At the time, I considered it a moral obligation to buy a record a month by an artist I'd never heard on the radio, so I ran right out and grabbed his Polydor album, Link Wray. Recorded in a chicken shack on a three-track machine, the LP was interestingly eccentric country rock, but I sure didn't hear what knocked out Townshend. The next time I was aware of Wray, he was backing Robert Gordon on two albums that didn't kill me either.

I'd just about given up on the guy when I put Bullshot on my turntable. Behold! Loud, deceptively simple, snarling guitar! Rock & roll capable of stirring my hormones when I can't wake up in the morning!

The resurrected Wray does a version of "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" that can make you forget Bob Dylan's ever existed. He's even considerate enough to include a remake of "Rawhide," so we can hear what Townshend heard. Backed by a murderous band that wasn't recorded in a chicken shack, Link Wray cooks with gas on the other cuts, too. I just wish he'd released Bullshot in 1971 when I was peeling potatoes to pay for my records. (RS 297)

CHARLES M. YOUNG