I can vividly recall the first time I saw Ritchie Blackmore play guitar; it was at the Free Trade Hall on 5 September 1976.
From the moment Blackmore started to play I was transfixed by the mesmeric movement of his elegant fingers on the fretboard of his white Fender Stratocaster. I had seen some fine axe men by this time but nothing like the Man in Black. Before us was a genuine grade A axe hero. I’ve seen plenty of great guitar slingers (from Angus to Young) but Blackmore is quite simply the most exciting musician I have ever witnessed. He had an aura about him that was almost mystical and technical chops of the highest order. He could play faster than a highway star but was never a shredder: like all the best guitarists it was what he played rather than the speed he played it at. But it was also the sense of danger that you got from his gigs: you never knew what mood Der Mann in Schwarz would be in. Every show involved some improvisation – no two were exactly alike.
It was musical love at first sight.
Rainbow went through numerous line-ups, but my favourite remains the one from that first Rainbow gig.
As a collective they only recorded one studio album together, the one I most treasure: Rainbow Rising.
Rising’s consistency is what sets it apart. A few years after its release in 1981, the readers of Sounds and Kerrang voted it the best Heavy Metal album of all-time, which is a testament to the strength of this colourful concise coherent collection of six melodic metal songs. It’s all thriller and no filler.
I adore the sound of this record. Producer Martin Birch does a fine job of capturing tracks that were mostly recorded in one or two takes.
Blackmore is in blistering form, often demonstrating his penchant for a bit of slide guitar in addition to his plectrum perfection, as he lays down some stellar solos and cements his reputation as the riff merchant supreme.
Rocking elf, Ronnie James “Sign of the Devil” Dio, might be diminutive but he has a voice like a giant Viking bukkehorn that dwarfs those of mere mortals. His lyrics may descend to the darkest depths of Dungeons and Dragons but who cares what mystical nonsense he is singing about when it sounds this good.
With the hammer always down, driving the tracks along is the turbo charged powerhouse Cozy Powell. Cozy dances with the devil as his piledriving stick work pummels the skins to the point of bursting and cracks start to appear on his cymbals.
Side 1 features four riff driven nuggets; although Tarot Woman opens proceedings with Tony Carey’s synthesiser swirling like the Dartmoor mist before Blackmore’s slashing guitar builds like an approaching electrical storm and Cozy P thunders in. Both Ritchie and Carey contribute memorable solos.
Run with the Wolf has a distinctive biting medieval riff of the kind Blackmore is a master of.
Starstruck is an early take on stalker fans.
Encore favourite Do You Close your Eyes is a rampant rocker with a catchy chorus and tender long song lyrics.
Side 2 is where the big boys turn up.
The record’s centre piece is the much-feted Stargazer. This is Blackmore’s Kashmir, a symphonic slam of a number that opens with a barrage of drums and builds into a towering orchestral journey climaxing with one of Blackmore’s epic solos.
The musical pyrotechnics of closer A Light in the Black are a set of superb musicians showing off while Dio wails like a demented Hobbit. The multi-coloured mayhem has Jimmy Bain’s bass galloping like a wild horse and Cozy Powell’s drums hurtling along like a herd of stampeding buffalo.
Tony Carey produces one of the greatest synth solos ever, locks in with Blackmore, before the man in black responds with some face melting fret board dynamics. It’s searing, sizzling, breath-taking stuff.
There are very few long players I’ve gone back to more times. Of course, some of you won’t like it but, hey, at least the whole thing is only 34 minutes long.
