Tag Archives: Phil Lynott

Paul and Linda McCartney, Ram (Apple, 1971)

Ram 1

Goddammit if I don’t love a singing bassist, plus Paul and I share a similar reverence for and complete fucking worship of black music, but the fact is he’s always seemed pretty bitchy to me and I can’t get past it. (Michael Jackson bought your shit? Here’s your bottle and blankie. Welcome to the music business.) The first 2 minutes of “Band on the Run” are pretty sweet but then I change the station, I can guarantee I’ll never buy a Wings record, and I laugh and laugh when I think about the musical year 1971 – Ram came out in May, upon which John Lennon said OH OK BITCH HERE YOU GO and released Imagine in September. Still, this is a sweet, harmless record with a cover that I’ve been itching to recreate for a while now. I also don’t regret buying this stuffed ram ‘cause now I can finally do that Black Sheep cover.

 

 

Thin Lizzy, Fighting (Vertigo, 1975)

Thin Lizzy Fighting 2  I’ve been blessed with plenty of luck, I love blowing up cars, I’m full of anger and beauty and guilt and sorrow and DNA that predisposes me to alcoholism, plus my name is LOGAN, so I don’t need to do much to prove my Irishness to you people on 3/17 or any other day. But there’s never enough Lynott for me in life nor on the Internet so I’ll take any excuse to post him. And because lady record dorks (like the titular character in opening handclappy banger “Rosalie”) and supercool lanky half-Guyanese bass players both tend to get fetishized by people who love music, I swear it’s like Phil and I are forever buddies in the struggle. Happy St. Patrick’s Day, yall.
(Get this record. “Wild One” is the tragic, pretty soundtrack to me riding my horse through a cold Dublin field at night. And “Freedom Song,” about a man named Jack McDuff – but not THAT Jack McDuff, guys – has the loveliest, Thin-Lizziest chord progression you can possibly imagine. Get it.)