Rory Gallagher is a rock and roll journeyman. He makes music that skims the rock circumference from tedium to excitement, while hitting all the stops such as bland, startling, trivial, dynamic and too familiar on the way. Nothing more or less than an average five gigs a week rock 'n' roller who managed to turn his reputation into a recording contract.

Largely unknown in the United States, he once fronted a second-rate Irish group called Taste, and then split to form his own group, which he humbly named after himself. This is the new group's second effort at recording, and hence is cleverly entitled "Deuce." The first album was unspectacular, depending almost wholly on Gallagher's average voice and better than average guitar playing, backed with the highly pedestrian, almost pedantic bass and drum thumpings of two hacks named McAvoy and Campbell. This second album is a carbon copy of the first.

All of which is not to say that it isn't a good album. If it isn't a world beater, it isn't all that bad either. And to admit to disliking it would be admitting a bias against English basic-rock trios.

Like its predecessor, its main selling point is Gallagher's tasteful guitar playing. He tends to be neat, clean and precise, as well as unencumbered by massive slurring and distortion, although a bit of tastefully controlled feedback is allowed to escape once in a while. He handles slide and anglo-flash techniques with equal aplomb, and moves easily from one style to the other with a minimum of distress. However, he still insists on monopolizing the vocals himself, which again tend toward the wretched. If only he maintained a touch of the Irish dialect it might be enough of a gimmick to catapult the group all the way to the top of the old slag-heap.

Without doubt, the best cuts are the overt rockers–"Used To Be," the opener on Side One, "Whole Lot of People," and "Crest of a Wave." They depend solely on Gallagher's Page-Beck-Peter Green guitar riffs, and prove, if nothing else, that he has absorbed his many influences well.

As for the low points on the disc, there really aren't any. Granted, there are some slightly less appealing moments tossed in to break the monotony which might result from their absence, but they too are interesting in their own gimpy little way. "There's A Light" features some rather Dylanish harmonica by Gallagher, and isn't stunningly original, but is certainly likable for its catchy melody and lack of pretension. "Maybe I Will" is one of those songs that has you asking that musical question, "Where the hell did I hear this before?" The song is just Rory, sittin' and pickin', as it were, and allows you to provide the drum parts yourself by slapping your thighs and knees silly if you so desire. "I'm Not Awake Yet" is Gallagher's attempt at "de blooze," the strange phenomenon that seems to affect all these oversexed, over - payed loose - living young English lads throughout most of their existences. It's absence might have been more pretentious than its inclusion.

Deuce is finally a competent piece of basic Anglo-rock, not too heavy, not too light, and not enough to make anybody's year-end poll. (RS 108)

ALAN NIESTER