Rory Gallagher's love affair with his guitar has been so devoted for so long that one day it will be celebrated in an epic verse. I mean, even B. B. King betrayed Lucille with some fancy strings, and old white swaggerers like Eric Clapton and Alvin Lee are settling, one by one, into comfortable productions. No such betrayals from Rory, no such laziness; the guitar is still his passion and night after night, gig after gig, he's still thrilled by the sounds he can coax from it.

Against the Grain is a studio set but there's no reason why it should be. The basic sound is, as e er, one man and his guitar and the production (by Gallagher himself) subsumes all else in it. Gerry McAvoy and Rod de'Ath are an unselfish and intelligent rhythm section, Lou Martin moves as efficiently on boogie piano as on pub organ, Rory gets through the lyrics throatily and effectively—but they're all servants, putting the guitar at ease as it growls and swoops and bites and relaxes. Gallagher needs few devices for his pleasure. There's a touch of fuzz, a hint of echo, but mostly there's his caress and an amazing range of tones—acoustic (on Leadbelly's "Out on the Western Plain"), blue (on Bo Carter's "All Around Man"), fruity (on "Lost at Sea"), excited (on "Souped-Up Ford") and arrogant (on Porter/Hayes/Hodges's "I Take What I Want").

Gallagher's songs are about arriving and leaving. He arrives full of strut and need—"No highway cop gonna make me stop"—and he leaves petulant and free—"You're making a mistake and you'll see, when I'm gone."

Gallagher's obsessed, like all great lovers, but Against the Grain will get your hands twitching too, even if you ain't Joe Cocker! If a man can play this good standing still, why should he progress? (RS 204)

SIMON FRITH