It took a few years, but purchasing Thin Lizzy's Jailbreak LP for a quarter back at SHSU has struck me as one of the best things I've ever done for myself, and, simultaneously, one of the worst. Last weekend I bought Dedication, a Thin Lizzy best-of, and while I've enjoyed it immensely- it's nice hearing what else they have to offer other than Jailbreak, which is a damnedly good record- I can't help but really feel remorseful that Phil Lynott is dead. I don't know that I've ever felt so sad that a musician or other artist has passed on, which is odd, given that I'm no long-term Thin Lizzy fan. Maybe when Bruce Dickinson, or Rob Halford, or Lemmy, or Matt Pike, or Tony Iommi, or other people I've dug for a while, become worm food, I'll feel the way I do now. I suppose it's a testament to how good a songwriter and bassist Mr. Lynott was that I truly wish he was still alive to put out albums. I can see why Brant Bjork dedicated Local Angel to him. Said album is very much a Thin Lizzy kinda record, which I never recognized until Randy and I were enjoying instant classics such as "I'm A Rocker" and "Chinatown," among others.

I think I need to try to talk my brother into learning how to play "Jailbreak." What a fucking RIFF! Why don't you fuckin' heathens enjoy this shit as much as I do?