Thin Lizzy
Vagabonds of the Western World

THE REVIEW

I begin this review by immediately clarifying that it is actually a pretext... a pretext to praise that great music, current of life, ensemble of people, era that is Rock and Roll.

Why this album? Well because no one gives a damn about Thin Lizzy in Italy and it's a real shame because Philip Lynott & co were really great... maybe some blonde girl with pins and borkikkkkie knows their name because the great lazy friend Axl Rose wore a T-shirt with this big name on it during concerts (of course he thought it would be a good idea to recover his squalor by subsequently wearing one of Charles Manson...).

Thin Lizzy is one of those bands like The Who that cannot be praised for this or that... or rather you can certainly try to do so, but love only blossoms by listening to their albums... they're bands comparable to truffles in cooking... either you love them or you can't stand them.

I love them!

That whispered English black voice with swallowed words that feels a lot like Hendrix on valium, that incredible bass, that damn uncertain and devastating guitar like an old school Alfa Romeo engine out of tune. Thin Lizzy is one of the most underrated bands in the Rock And Roll scene of all time.

This album is probably not the most famous but I like it for its sincerity. Tracks like "Mama Nature Said" should make you think... acid experiments like "The Hero And The Madman" aren't the best to listen to in the car on the way back from work (speaking as someone who devastates his eardrums every morning and evening);

Rocker is a song that, as far as I'm concerned, should be the fucking official anthem of rock and roll... just listen to it, an incredible riff and a solo that in my opinion is absolutely the best of all time (rock and roll is like Jeremy Clarkson... you have to get excited and make sweeping statements that you'll take back tomorrow but do it with heart, and then you hit the mark). This song can truly distinguish the crowd, dividing it into two large groups: the true rockers, those who listen to rock just to fill the silence that would be there without it. The song is pure adrenaline, excellent technique immersed in a jar of honey corrected with tequila. In short, listen to it because it deserves it :P

The other songs alternate between highs and lows, still always enjoyable.

"Whiskey In The Jar" is a classic Irish song (like "Hey Joe" or "House of the Rising Sun") which in my opinion reaches its peak in the Thin Lizzy version. Forget about talking crap about the MERDAllica version: pure crap. The voice is copied in equal measure to the French class test written in Turkish by a poor illegal immigrant desperately trying to get a passing grade without knowing the difference between vowels and consonants of the language from beyond the Alps.

Poor misunderstood Phil' died following heroin and alcohol complications in the sad year 1986; replaced by a bronze statue in Dublin...

But let's move on to rock (actually with this album we're already neck-deep in it). I don't think rock is simply a musical style like metal, punk, or house can be (if we even want to call the latter music). Rock is a way of thinking, living, loving, seeing. Rock is sensations, emotions: anger, pain, love, sweetness all blended inside a damn Gibson SG diavoletto (any reference is purely coincidental).

I wake up in the morning to go to work and carry out my beautiful daily routine free of true satisfaction... sometimes I think I haven't understood anything about this world, that I've messed everything up... I think I need to "settle down"... then I turn on my turntable, drop Led Zeppelin 4 on the second track, and lower the stylus... Well what can I tell you... it only takes 7 notes to totally change my mind...

It's only rock and roll... but I like it!