And another guitarist who left us with indelible solos from the ’70s gone. Gary Rossington cheated death for decades, so we are fortunate he rocked this world as long as he did — and man did he rock it. We’ll always have “Free Bird” (obvi) but his smoke is all over some of Lynyrd Skynyrd‘s best if oft-overlooked tunes. His one-two punch on “Don’t Ask Me No Questions” and the immortal album-closer “Call Me The Breeze” (from their pound-for-pound, or riff-for-riff best album, Second Helping) could be a career; how about “Tuesday’s Gone” and “Poison Whiskey” from the debut? Never less than interesting, often awesome, at times unbelievable — he was The One who couldn’t be overpowered by Ronnie Van Zant’s uncontainable personality (and talent).
For me, his work on “That Smell,” the song his dance-with-death lifestyle inspired (and a song I’ll offer up to prove rock tunes can be poetry, and at times stand proudly amongst our most literate writers), is special, and illustrates the glorious improbability of having *three* lead guitarists (in one band, obvi, but here, in one song) all lending their distinctive sounds and soul. Special shout out to a time when a band of brothers didn’t take their dysfunction to court or a talk show, but channeled it back into the music; it’s special to see Ronnie looking over, approvingly, at the dude he wrote these lyrics to lambaste. Lovingly, as only a brother could.
It’ll never not be painful to consider this dream would come crashing down –literally– only a couple of months later, but how lucky are we have to have footage, and how grateful we should be that this genius was left for us all to savor. Whenever one of the above-mentioned songs (including his for all-time slide solo on “You Got That Right”) comes on while I’m driving, it’s at least 50/50 chance I’ll get pulled over not just for speeding, but my reckless if obligatory air guitar. Rock On Gary.
