Thin Lizzy - Jailbreak 1976

Thin Lizzy found their trademark twin-guitar sound on 1975's Fighting, but it was on its 1976 successor, Jailbreak, where the band truly took flight. Unlike the leap between Night Life and Fighting, there is not a great distance between Jailbreak and its predecessor. If anything, the album was more of a culmination of everything that came before, as Phil Lynott hit a peak as a songwriter just as guitarists Scott Gorham and Brian Robertson pioneered an intertwined, dual-lead guitar interplay that was one of the most distinctive sounds of '70s rock, and one of the most influential. Lynott no longer let Gorham and Robertson contribute individual songs -- they co-wrote, but had no individual credits -- which helps tighten up the album, giving it a cohesive personality, namely Lynott's rough rebel with a heart of a poet. Lynott loves turning the commonplace into legend -- or bringing myth into the modern world, as he does on "Cowboy Song" or, to a lesser extent, "Romeo and the Lonely Girl" -- and this myth-making is married to an exceptional eye for details; when the boys are back in town, they don't just come back to a local bar, they're down at Dino's, picking up girls and driving the old men crazy. This gives his lovingly florid songs, crammed with specifics and overflowing with life, a universality that's hammered home by the vicious, primal, and precise attack of the band. Thin Lizzy is tough as rhino skin and as brutal as bandits, but it's leavened by Lynott's light touch as a singer, which is almost seductive in its croon. This gives Jailbreak a dimension of richness that sustains, but there's such kinetic energy to the band that it still sounds immediate no matter how many times it's played. Either one would make it a classic, but both qualities in one record make it a truly exceptional album. AMG.

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Thin Lizzy - Johnny The Fox 1977

Jailbreak was such a peak that it was inevitable that its follow-up would fall short in some fashion and Johnny the Fox, delivered the same year as its predecessor, did indeed pale in comparison. What's interesting about Johnny the Fox is that it's interesting, hardly a rote repetition of Jailbreak but instead an odd, fitfully successful evolution forward. All the same strengths are still here -- the band still sounds as thunderous as a force of nature, Phil Lynott's writing is still graced with elegant turns of phrase, his singing is still soulful and seductive -- but the group ramped up the inherent drama in Lynott's songs by pushing them toward an odd, half-baked concept album. There may be a story within Johnny the Fox -- characters are introduced and brought back, at the very least -- but it's impossible to tell. If the album only had an undercooked narrative and immediate songs, such digressions would be excusable, but the music is also a bit elliptical in spots, sometimes sounding theatrical, sometimes relying on narration. None of this falls flat, but it's never quite as gripping as Jailbreak -- or the best moments here, for that matter, because when Johnny the Fox is good, it's great, as on the surging "Don't Believe a Word" or the elegiac "Borderline." These are the reasons why Johnny the Fox is worth the extra effort, because it does pay off even if it isn't quite as good as what came immediately before -- or immediately afterward, for that matter. AMG.

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Thin Lizzy - Thin Lizzy 1971

Thin Lizzy was originally conceived as a power trio in the image of Cream and the Jimi Hendrix Experience, but Eric Bell lacked the charisma of those groups' guitarists, forcing vocalist/bassist Philip Lynott to take center stage from day one. Despite his already poetic, intensely personal lyrics, Lynottwas only beginning to develop as a songwriter, and the band's unfocused, folk-infused early efforts are a far cry from their mid-'70s hard rock glory. Recorded on a shoestring budget, their self-titled debut is surprisingly mellow; many songs, such as "Clifton Grange Hotel" and "The Friendly Ranger of Clontarf Castle," sound confused and unfinished. Quiet ballads like "Honesty Is No Excuse," "Eire," and "Saga of the Ageing Orphan" abound, while supposed rockers such as "Ray-Gun" and "Return of the Farmer's Son" fall remarkably flat. In fact, Lizzy only bare their claws on "Look What the Wind Blew In," a gutsy rocker that hints at things to come. AMG.

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