Rory saved my life.

A bold statement, I know, but one I’ve heard so many times from so many other fans too.

I’ve always struggled with my mental health and music has long been my refuge. But during the COVID-19 pandemic, things really took a turn for the worse and I found it increasingly difficult to function. The only thing that kept me going, that gave me the will to face each new day, was Rory’s music.

I had been a Rory fan since 2016, yet his music took on a whole new meaning for me during that time. It was like hearing the comforting voice of an old friend who had also dealt with his fair share of pain and sorrow, but had somehow managed to remain resilient, quietly hopeful that brighter days would come.

With the isolation and lockdown leaving me starved for human connection, I turned to the online world instead to connect with like-minded people. That’s what led me to set up my Rory Instagram fanpage, ultimately leading to Rewriting Rory, and to join John Ganjamie’s The Loop mailing list. One of the very first people to warmly welcome me into that space was Pete Wood.

Pete has since become a dear friend of mine, a fierce advocate of Rewriting Rory and a constant source of good humour and encouragement in my life. As I would go on to learn, Pete had seen Rory perform around 50 times and had followed his career faithfully since the days of Taste. He shared with me a wealth of fascinating stories and memories, and I’ve truly enjoyed our regular conversations over the past five years. I’ve gathered many of the highlights from our discussions into this Q&A, which forms the second instalment of the Meeting with the G-Fans series.

I hope you enjoy reading it!

Tickets from some of the concerts Pete attended

What was your introduction to the blues?

The first blues rock track I ever heard was ‘Sunshine of Your Love’ by Cream when I was 15 years old. I was absolutely blown away. I remember thinking, “Wow, what is this?” Jimi Hendrix often played it as a tribute to Cream, but what he didn’t know was that it was actually written about him! Bass player Jack Bruce wrote the song after seeing Jimi perform at a London

When did you discover Rory?

I discovered Rory when I attended the Plumpton Festival, near Brighton, in August 1970. Plumpton is a horse racing circuit and, at that point, I didn’t know Rory at all. That day was my introduction to him. He was still playing with Taste then. I remember he was wearing a leather jacket and was an absolute whirlwind on stage, spinning around, nearly spearing the other two musicians in the band with his guitar! It was quite a spectacle! I had NEVER seen anything like him. Watching him perform for that first time was so exciting, even intimidating, but absolutely brilliant! I was just 17 and had escaped from a single-sex boarding school in Sussex. It shocked me there in 1970 just how amazing he was. I had my head blown off in his presence. Deep Purple headlined, but Rory absolutely smashed them. He stole the show. Over the years, I attended around 50 of his gigs, but I think Plumpton is probably my greatest ever Rory gig because it was the first. It marked the beginning of my lifelong love for Rory, both as a man and as a musician.

And then just three weeks later, you were at the iconic Isle of Wight Festival?

Yes, that’s right! Both Taste and Jimi Hendrix were on the bill and, sadly, it was to be Jimi’s last-ever UK performance. The massive crowd at the Isle of Wight had mostly gathered to see Jimi, and I had also made the pilgrimage for him. But I had already seen Rory destroy the stage at Plumpton three weeks before, so I was excited to see him again too. I went to the festival by myself because the mates who said they would go bailed out at the last minute. What a missed opportunity for them! My dad had tried to stop me going, but I jumped out of my first-floor window onto the garage roof and hitchhiked there. I got a lift on a motorbike to Arundel, then a car to Portsmouth, followed by the ferry.

The atmosphere was incredible, with around 700,000 attending. Rory played on the Friday afternoon in the blazing sun. I couldn’t believe he was just 4 years older than me. Plumpton had already blown my mind, but his performance at the Isle of Wight only reinforced my love for him. Dónal says Taste did five encores, but I clearly remember three.

Jimi’s performance was chaotic, however. There were numerous delays and equipment malfunctions. He finally took the stage at 3 am on Monday and played until 5.30 am, bringing the festival to a close. When he finished, I ran to the ferry, dodging the slow-moving crowd and headed back to Portsmouth. I then got a train back home to Worthing. My dad was furious with me!

A few weeks after the Isle of Wight, I was back at my boarding school in Sussex when a friend told me the news: Jimi was dead. I was devastated. I feel so fortunate to have seen both Jimi and Rory perform in such a short span of time. Those early Rory and Jimi experiences shaped my life in ways I can’t fully express. Jimi had a massive influence on me, and after his passing, I became even more devoted to Rory and was determined to go to as many of his gigs as I could.

Can you remember the first time you saw Rory solo?

That would have been in 1971 at the Van Dyke Club in Plymouth, Devon. The Van Dyke was an amazing small club. Rory played for three hours non-stop. I was right up at the front, about 3 metres from his long, dripping mop of hair. It looked like a bucket of water had been thrown over it! Again, the gig was spectacular. He played so hard. I will never forget it!

What other standout Rory gigs from the 1970s do you remember?

The Hull University gigs from 1972 to 1975. At the time, I was studying botany and geography there. These concerts were held in a refectory building for just a few hundred people, so they were intimate and memorable. They were part of what was jokingly called ‘University Challenge’ tours after the well-loved TV programme University Challenge. I also caught other great university gigs at Birmingham, Keele and Exeter, but Hull stays particularly in my mind.  I introduced my future wife, Linda, to Rory in 1974, pulling her away from her love of Tamla Motown. After that, she started coming with me to the gigs. I have vivid memories of dancing with pure joy at the 1974 gig, and one of the guys from my karate team remarked, “I could see you were enjoying yourself.” I certainly was! I thought it was great for the uni students to get Rory every year. I also remember in 1973, the university arranged a coach trip to see Rory at Sheffield Town Hall. I thought it was amazing that the university would organise something like that.

In 1976, my wife Linda and I moved to Birmingham. I remember Rory’s Christmas gig at Birmingham’s Bingley Hall, which was a Victorian locomotive building lit by open gas lights. It was rammed to the rafters and seeing Rory perform there was pure bliss. We didn’t have much money, but it didn’t matter – we enjoyed it tremendously. Then in 1978, Rory opened Birmingham’s newly constructed NEC [National Exhibition Centre]. He played in one of the halls, which was still only partly built but useable. It was a great honour for Rory to have been chosen for such an event, but he was one of the most important acts of the time. The opening support act was Bram Tchaikovsky from The Motors. I can’t remember Bram being very complimentary about Rory. He might have been jealous that it was Rory the crowd had come to see. As usual, Rory blew the place apart with his high energy and tight band.

I also got to several of Rory’s Reading Festival performances. To me, the best by far was in 1980 – the last time he played there. He headlined the Friday night and the mayor came on at the start of the set to present Rory with an award for attracting the biggest crowd in Reading Festival history and for performing there more than any other artist. Rory looked so embarrassed! Once again, the performance was incredibly dynamic and high energy. I remember walking around town before the gig, seeing fans in their check shirts. At the concert, a guy next to me who had never seen Rory before turned to me and said, “He makes that guitar talk!” Rory’s stage presence was fantastic – he had the Chuck Berry duck walk, he’d do naval salutes to the band and kept his talk to a minimum, simply saying things like, “Hope you like it!” And he always credited the original blues guys – Leadbelly, Muddy Waters etc. Rory once said that he liked music that picked him up and threw him across the room. That’s exactly what he did for us!

Let’s stick with 1980. What other memories do you have from that year about Rory?

In 1980, I was struggling with depression, so I decided to go to a few Rory gigs on that tour, hoping it would help lift my spirits. The first was at Birmingham Odeon, and then I went to Malvern Winter Gardens with my brother. We got there early and walked the hill landscape, which was beautiful. Around 2 or 3pm, we headed to the hall. I had heard that you needed a “two cherries” badge to get into the soundcheck, so I went up to the door and told the security, “We have cherries.” He let us in! Gerry and Ted were already on stage when we arrived. Shortly after, Rory walked in through the patio French windows. He was wearing these amazing psychedelic glasses with revolving lenses, and he was smiling. Later during the gig, for the encores, Rory put them back on for a bit. I remember he picked up his Strat and burst straight into a number without telling them what it was, but the band was so tight that they were on it.

Then, I went to the Taunton Odeon. I was in the town centre before the gig when I suddenly saw Rory walking down the street with Ted and Gerry. A scrum of fans gathered around them, and Rory began autographing everything at the fans’ request. He was exactly as you’ve heard described – as far away from a rock star as you could get. So kind, shy, modest, warm, friendly… It was a real uplift for me and such a treasured memory. I had a brief chat with him about the Plumpton Festival. He looked perplexed and said, “I can’t remember that one.” So, I said my next gig was the Isle of Wight. He burst into his lovely smile and said laughingly, “I remember that one!”

And what about throughout the 80s?

In the early 80s, we were living in Tamworth when we heard about a new venue called Rock City in Nottingham, and saw that Rory was playing there on 3 December 1981. We decided to go, and it turned out to be an incredible gig. The venue was packed – 2,000 people standing shoulder to shoulder – and the energy was electric. We loved the city and the venue. Then, by a stroke of luck, I landed a job in Nottingham in 1987. So, I got to see Rory there again in 1987, 1988 and 1990.

One memory that stands out is from the 1988 show. I was very ill with hepatitis at the time but couldn’t bear the thought of missing Rory. I managed to find a rare seat in the venue and spent the night bent double with pain from this horrific liver infection, but I didn’t mind. I was so determined to see him that I pushed through the extreme discomfort. I remember Rory joking with the crowd, asking, “Are you still alive at Rock City?” And on another occasion, he refused to stop playing, even though it was well past curfew. He only stopped around 1 a.m. when the local Hells Angels security pulled the plugs out!

I also caught Rory in Wolverhampton two days later on the 1988 tour. During the first gig, Rory introduced Gerry by playing the riff from ‘Pretty Woman’. However, between that gig and the next, Roy Orbison had passed away, and out of respect, Rory didn’t play the tune that night and dropped the joke. That’s typical of the sweet man that he was.

Rory’s final performance at Rock City was in 1990, and I was so impressed by the show that I bought the tour t-shirt. I still have it, and it still fits! Even though Rory was clearly struggling mentally at the time, it didn’t affect his playing one bit. Dónal later told me that Rory loved playing at that venue, and listening to the recent All Around Man release from the same tour feels like reliving that night all over again.

Another standout gig for me was at the Birmingham Hummingbird in 1987 during the Defender tour. The Hummingbird was a two-storey West Indian club and I remember there was a West Indian disco going on downstairs while Rory was playing. During quieter moments in his set, you could actually hear the music from below! But Rory was fantastic, as always. During the encore, he brought up Tony McPhee, the main man from the Groundhogs, to join him on stage. I secretly filmed the whole 90-minute gig (which is now uploaded on the Rewriting Rory YouTube channel). I was in a terrible job at the time, being bullied at work, and seeing Rory again was a massive emotional lift.

In the 80s, it was noticeable to all of us fans that Rory’s appearance had changed. He had put on a lot of weight and abandoned his trademark check shirt and blues jeans, replacing them with black attire. The famous duckwalk and spinning around were now rare, but his playing remained strong, even better than before, in fact. Defender and Fresh Evidence are two of my absolute favourite albums. His appearance didn’t matter to me at all; he was still the same great Rory Gallagher. He was maturing like a fine wine, and I truly believe he was on the verge of creating even more fantastic music.

Let’s move into the 90s now. Do you have any standout memories from these later gigs?

I actually saw Rory at the Leeds Town & Country Club, the night after the ill-fated London Town & Country Club gig. He was definitely not at the top of his game in Leeds. I remember Roberto [Manes] was standing in for Mark on harmonica, and at one point, Rory shouted, “Roberto” and snatched the harmonica from him, playing it discordantly. His timing was off and there was no patter between numbers. He seemed deadly dishevelled and flat – everything about him was strained. But who doesn’t have a bad day at the office now and then? We’re all human. The T&C Club were worried about a repeat of London, so they booked Dr Feelgood as the support act at the very last minute. I remember Lee Brilleaux watching from the side of stage, keeping an eye on Rory. I suspect that if Rory had fallen ill again, they would have quickly stepped in.

When was the last time you saw Rory?

That would be the Portsmouth International Blues Festival in 1993. He headlined the Friday night, playing in a circus tent. I was working in Tutbury, Staffordshire at the time, and my plan was to leave early and drive the 200 miles down to Portsmouth to catch Rory. Unfortunately, I got caught in horrendous traffic and arrived late, just as ‘Continental Op’ was bouncing around the street. We dropped our bags at the hotel and ran to catch the gig. Rory played brilliantly, as always. Snooky Pryor was also on the bill, performing on the Saturday night. I had a stinking cold, but the beauty and adrenaline rush of seeing Rory got me through. The fact that it was post-85 Rory era meant nothing to me. He was still an exceptional guitarist and I will never forget him. My last ever view of Rory was post-gig, watching him walk away from me in the car park. One of his entourage – possibly Dónal – was patting him on the back, congratulating him for the great performance. It’s a staggeringly sad memory for me. I never imagined I wouldn’t get to see him again. The weather that weekend was awful, and the tent was actually damaged on the Sunday, but the festival continued indoors in an adjacent building.

I was scheduled to see Rory again in 1994 at Buxton Opera House for an Alexis Korner tribute gig. I remember we took our seats up high in this beautiful building, but then the organiser came over the PA to announce that Rory had phoned in sick. My heart sank. I had only come to see Rory. The 60-mile drive back home was a depressing one. Now thinking about it, it was a bit like turning up for a favourite beer festival and then being told, “Sorry, there’s no beer.” Over the next year, I kept thinking, “What’s happened to Rory? Why is he not playing?”

Speaking of the Buxton Opera House, I was at a Walter Trout gig there back in 2022 and he paid a great tribute to Rory. He said that he had been friends with Rory and had jammed with him on several occasions. He spoke about the 1992 Bonn Blues Festival, where they were on the same bill. He said Rory was extremely ill, sitting backstage looking bloated, yet still managed to do a blistering 3-hour show. Walter said he would never forget that.

I imagine Rory’s death the following year must have come as a huge shock for you.

It was one of those ‘JFK moments’ for me. I can still remember the exact date, time and place so clearly. I had just come home from work in Burton-on-Trent, after the usual one-hour commute back to Nottingham. Linda said to me straight away, “Rory has died.” I didn’t know how to react, so I just carried on walking into the bedroom and started crying. It felt like a railway engine had hit me in the stomach at 100 miles per hour. It was devastating for me that such a huge live musical energy just stopped. It made the front page of our Nottingham newspaper as he had played so many concerts in the city over the years. His passing hit me in much the same way as Jimi Hendrix’s death. I’ll never get over either the loss of either of them, until my dying day. I did visit Rory’s grave once and it was so very sad for me after hundreds of hours watching his tremendous live energy. I was in tears.

In 1996, I attended the tribute concert at Buxton Opera House. It was a special event, with many big names in attendance like Peter Green, Ronnie Drew, Bernie Marsden… Dónal handed Bernie Rory’s beloved Strat to play on stage for a number or two. The occasion itself was good, but deeply sad.

Let’s end on a more positive note by remembering the incredible moments and choices that defined Rory’s legacy. Answer with what first comes to mind, using your gut instinct!

1. Taste or On the Boards?

On the Boards

2. ‘Pistol Slapper Blues’ or ‘Too Much Alcohol’?

‘Too Much Alcohol’

3. Rory’s session work with Muddy Waters or Jerry Lee Lewis?

Muddy Waters

4. Rory on sax or Rory on harmonica?

Harmonica

5. Rod De’Ath or Brendan O’Neill on drums?

Brendan (Rod is great too. So difficult!)

6. Best track at Isle of Wight 1970 performance?

‘What’s Going On’

7. Rory at Nottingham Rock City in 1981, 1987, 1988 or 1990?

1990

8. Rory track you think Jimi could have covered well?

‘What’s Going On’ or ‘Bad Penny’. Dónal has said that ‘Bad Penny’ is very Hendrixy.

9. Jimi track you think Rory could have covered well?

Red House, Jimi’s favourite blues songs. Also the blues track ‘Hear My Train A Comin’.

10. And finally, what else do you wish you could have said to Rory when you met him in 1980?

Well, Rory, I would love you to know what a massive impact you have had on my life from Plumpton and Isle of Wight Festivals in August 1970 (to the final one in Portsmouth 1993). I was hook, line and sinker, bought and sold on you! I was 17, fresh out of boarding school around those festivals in 1970. You were like a knight in shining armour, the polar opposite of my boarding school experiences. Wow! I wondered who is this guy and his music? Getting into you and your music was like drinking the finest champagne for the first time. I do so hope you realise the impact/love we have for you and your music. Seeing you at 17, you killed it for me. Love you . In total, I will get to many many of your gigs for sure (around 50).

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Update: 3/02/25

Pete was so happy about all your positive feedback about the Q&A that he wanted to share a few additional reflections on his memories of Plumpton and the Isle of Wight. Hope you enjoy reading them:

I think the Plumpton gig was even better than the Isle of Wight Festival. At Plumpton, Rory was all over the place, spinning, charging at the bass and drum players like he was out to spear them. He wore a leather jacket, looking a bit like a motorcycle rocker. The Isle of Wight gig was great too, but Rory’s stage persona there was much more reserved. Rory didn’t like the live recordings from the Isle of Wight or Montreux, as they were released without his authorisation. He once said that the two Taste gigs they chose to release were the worst performances to put out! But for us, the Isle of Wight was amazing… though Plumpton really was fantastic.

As for my story of escaping to get to the Isle of Wight festival, my dad had banned me from going. He was an environmental health doctor in the Worthing, Sussex area, and his colleague was in charge of health at the Isle of Wight. They were worried about contamination from the drinking water and sewage. Conditions at the festival were dire, so their fears were real. The Isle of Wight doctor even thought cholera could break out! Fortunately, it didn’t, but with around 700,000 people there, and thousands more up on Desolation Hill (who didn’t have tickets), it was a close call. They didn’t expect the festival to be so massive—perhaps only 50,000 at most, since Dylan’s 1969 performance hadn’t been huge. But this was a different situation.

The site was near the iconic Needles, with a large set of fields below the hill. Desolation Hill, as it was called, lacked water and toilets, and French-Algerian activists were among the ones who broke down the security fence. Well, they were more than just protestors—they were actually violent revolutionaries. They broke down the security fence and, I think, even shot a security dog. This led to the festival becoming free, with fans streaming in through the gap in the fence, including those on Desolation Hill. Someone even painted “Jimi for Pope” on the fence! At the back of one of the festival gardens, there’s a statue of Jimi. It’s said that on the Sunday afternoon, Jimi met the farmer who had helped organise the festival, thanked him and had tea and scones—though I’m not sure if that’s true, it’s a nice story.

Rory was lucky to play in the afternoon, under blazing sun, while Jimi started his set at 3 a.m. on a freezing Monday morning. There were many sound issues during Jimi’s performance, including radio interference. At one point, he looked up at Desolation Hill and said, “Remember, you can’t fly off that hill.” It was a thinly veiled jab at the idea of LSD making people think they could fly, something Jimi had plenty of experience with.

As I mentioned, I was banned from going by my dad. He hated the hippie movement and everything associated with it—bands like Cream, Jimi Hendrix and publications like Oz, which was in trouble for allegedly slandering the establishment. So, I snuck out, dropping down from my bedroom onto the garage roof, rucksack on my back, and made my escape. My dad apparently attacked my younger brother, accusing him of knowing I was going. But he didn’t! I think my mum knew, though, because she secretly packed me some food. I hitchhiked to Arundel, then to Portsmouth, where I bought my ferry ticket. The ferry was packed with hippies, and I, a 17-year-old with a well-cut hairdo, was loving every moment. I was going to see Jimi, the biggest name in music at the time, and I was in awe of him. His death, just three weeks later, was absolutely devastating to me.

A week before the Isle of Wight festival, there was a smaller event in Worthing called Phun City, which featured bands like MC5 from Detroit and The Pink Fairies. They ended up nude on stage 55 years before Marilyn Manson! The event ended up breaking down into a “free festival”! Oddly enough, the band Free showed up, but when they found out they wouldn’t be paid, they turned around and went back to London. There was a photo of me on the front page of the Worthing paper at Phun City, sitting with a tartan blanket draped over me, surrounded by people. My dad saw it and said, “What do I tell my friends about this?” I was definitely his AC/DC “Problem Child”! Then, a week later, I was off to the Isle of Wight. Dad was primed to stop me, but he didn’t. I made it there and experienced the chaos and magic of the festival. As I think back on it, 55 years later, I’ll never forget the experience. Dad would probably be looking down from the sky, finding it amusing that I’m writing this now.