Thin Lizzy and Black Star Riders guitarist Damon Johnson recounts his first Thin Lizzy encounter
Needless to say, I was not prepared to know the true impact of hearing Thin Lizzy’s music and seeing them live in concert and the affect it would have on my musicianship and songwriting…and ultimately my life.
It was July 16, 1979. I had just celebrated my 15th birthday three days earlier, and I would imagine getting to go see Ted Nugent in concert in Huntsville, Alabama, was a gift from my parents. Only six weeks earlier we had moved from Monroeville (where I attended elementary and junior high school) to the very small town of Geraldine, where my mother grew up. Over the past two years, I had fallen deeply in love with the electric guitar, influenced by bands my school friends and I passed around albums by KISS, Nugent, Aerosmith, Van Halen, Lynyrd Skynyrd. Getting to see the maniac guitar God Ted Nugent live and in person was steeped in more anticipation than I could hardly bear.
My memory is tattooed with the site of the giant sign outside the Von Braun Civic Center in Huntsville that night: “Appearing TONIGHT – Ted Nugent, with special guest Thin Lizzy.” I had barely heard the name “Thin Lizzy”, but was not familiar with any of their music.
My three new friends from Geraldine and I arrived early to a full house of concert T-shirts, sweat, and the smell of weed. We were already vibrating with adrenaline when the house lights suddenly went down. Smoke filled the stage, two red ambulance lights flashed brightly, and sirens blasted at jet engine volume. A giant flashing sign blasted the now legendary Thin Lizzy logo, and the band exploded with a ringing power chord. One of the performers jumped on a riser centre stage just as a spotlight blasted him. Immediately, he “blasted” us all with a return volley of light, as his guitar had a mirrored pickguard on it. He immediately began spotlighting girls in the audience as the drums counted off the opening song.
For several moments, I could not possibly tear myself away from this character at center stage. He started singing some song about a jailbreak and stood with legs spread wide, wore leather pants and Converse sneakers, and was fist pumping as he sang and played the bass guitar. My friends and I moved as far to the front of the standing area on the floor, and my friend Aubrey yelled, “Hey, you wanna get on my shoulders?” He knew I had stashed my tiny Kodak Tele-instamatic camera in my boots and intended to get some photos of Ted Nugent. Uncle Ted was far, far from my mind as Aubrey hoisted me up and I started firing off shots like a schoolgirl at a Donny Osmond concert.
Just at that moment, the guitar player took centre stage for a lead break. Equally as impressive as the front man, this guy had a sunburst Gibson Les Paul (the only guitar that mattered in my life) and a head of hair so long that it seemed to grow past his knees. This girl next to me screams, “Oh dear God, that guy is hot!” as I fired off more photos with my cheap camera.
What I didn’t know at the time was that this band was meant to be a four-piece unit. Only after I joined the band itself did drummer Brian Downey explain to me that that was one of only four shows Thin Lizzy performed as a three-piece on that tour as Gary Moore had just departed and Scott Gorham was the lone guitarist (until Midge Ure could be flown in from Europe to fill in the second slot).
The next 40 minutes were a blur; but I would be forever changed because of it. Ted Nugent was great too, but when I hit the streets the next day all I had on my mind was finding as much Thin Lizzy music as I could get my hands on. The songwriting of Phil Lynott, the epic riff-age of Gorham and Brian Robertson and Gary Moore, and the ultimately one-of-a-kind drumming style of Brian Downey would be the biggest musical blueprint for the rest of my developing life as a player, a writer, and a performer.
In October 2011, at the behest of Scott Gorham and Brian Downey, I became a full member of Thin Lizzy…and lived happily ever after.
