In 1974 Brian ‘Robbo’ Robertson, aged 18, joined Thin Lizzy. The gifted Glaswegian guitarist brought a youthful bravado to the band, his temper and booze intake a factor in Lizzy being labelled ‘The fightingest band in rock’. Together with Phil Lynott, Scott Gorham and Brian Downey, Robbo was part of what most agree was the classic Lizzy line-up. He and Gorham’s magical twin guitars fuelled such landmark albums as Jailbreak and Live And Dangerous. Robbo quit Lizzy in 1978 – after reportedly being fired twice. Later came stints with Wild Horses and Motörhead, among others. In this interview from 2010, he looks back on the people he’s crossed paths with over the years.
Phil Lynott
I still miss him dearly. A lot of people do. He was a very charismatic man. And Thin Lizzy was obviously the first big band that I got to play with, so I owe him a lot. Even my nickname is down to Phil. He called me Robbo when we were soundchecking at The Rainbow one day and it just kind of stuck. I suppose he had to distinguish me from Brian Downey.
Philomena Lynott
Phil’s mum is a lovely woman. She was kind of like a second mum to us. I remember we were going to do this TV show with Lulu. Phyllis thought my hair was dirty, so she insisted on washing it over the sink using Fairy Liquid.
We used to have some great after-hours drinking sessions at Philomena’s hotel [The Clifton Grange] in Manchester. It was perpetually dark; the windows had these thick velvet curtains. One night Georgie Best was putting away huge amounts of vodka in one corner and the local police and villains were drinking in the other. Brian Downey fell off his bar stool and Philomena dragged him upstairs and told him to go to bed.
Philomena never really drank in those days, but after Phil passed away she would get a wee flask out now and then. I think by that point she felt she needed it, which is entirely understandable.
Frankie Miller
Frank is hilarious. A complete one-off. I think we first met in Glasgow, but we became pals after Phil got him in to sing backing vocals on Still In Love With You.
When I was playing in his band, Frank had all these weird idiosyncrasies. The moment he finished eating he would grab a newspaper and disappear off to the bog. Apparently his granny had told him that he’d never get fat if he went straight after his meals. If he didn’t have a newspaper to read, anything at all would do. I’ve seen him head off to the toilet reading the back of a box of Persil.
Frank was very fussy about hygiene, as well. One night we were checking-in at the Station Hotel in Glasgow. Frank went into his room, ran a finger through the dust on the table and went: “This place is too fuckin’ dirty!” He got out his gold credit card and went to stay at the Hilton or somewhere. Frank’s favourite saying whenever he had a complaint about the food or the room or the venue was: “It’s not me, it’s the boys in the band.” It was his way of dealing with things. And it was funny.
Lemmy
Joining Motörhead was a weird one. Lemmy’s manager, Doug Smith, phoned me up, and then he sent this girl in stockings and suspenders round to my place in Fulham with a bottle of whisky. Needless to say the deal was struck [laughs]. She gave me all the Motörhead albums, but I didn’t listen to them because it’s not my sort of music.
I was supposed to fly out to New York the next morning to meet the band, but for some reason I ended up in Toronto. I called Rush’s lighting technician, Howard, and thankfully he booked me into a hotel. The next day I flew to New York in a thunderstorm. I was picked up at the airport and we drove straight to Motörhead’s rehearsal room. We were there for 10 hours straight, with a lot of this [mimes sniffing something], and that was me in the band. Then we boarded the tour bus and drove straight back to fucking Canada. I remember The Lemster thought that was really funny. He and I got on fine most of the time, but we had our moments, shall we say. Being in Motörhead was crazy 24 hours a day.
David Bowie
In 1979 Bowie was appearing on The Kenny Everett Show, and that involved him having to record a new version of Boys Keep Swinging. I was in the middle of a Lizzy tour, but I got the call from [record producer] Tony Visconti asking if I could play the guitar solo, and I wasn’t going to miss that. I’d been a big Bowie and Mick Ronson fan since I was a kid. Tony sent me a cassette of the original Boys Keep Swinging and it had this crazy lead guitar stuff by Adrian Belew, all these weird noises. I thought, “Fuck! I can’t do that.” But I went down to Good Earth studios with a Strat and a bottle of Courvoisier. David and Tony were sat behind the mixing desk. I was just getting my sound when David shouted: “Okay, done!” I was like: “But I haven’t actually started yet...”
Mary Ford’s Les Paul
I’ve got this 1953 Les Paul guitar that Les Paul had built for his wife, Mary Ford. I came across it years ago at Andy’s, a guitar shop in London.
One day I was in a cab coming back from a session with that particular guitar. The driver had Capital Radio on, and the DJ announced that 10cc’s gig at Hammersmith Odeon might have to be cancelled because Eric Stewart’s Les Paul had been stolen. Eric and I used to go drinking in Manchester, and he nearly got me arrested one night when I threw a brick at a police car, so when I heard his name on the radio my ears pricked up. I lived quite near Hammersmith Odeon at that time, so I got the cab driver to drop me at the stage door. I saw Eric and offered him a lend of Mary Ford’s guitar. He thanked me, but he didn’t feel comfortable playing it because the action was too high.
Alex ‘Hurricane’ Higgins
Alex just had this amazing, raw talent. When he was on form he was unstoppable. I actually saw him the last time I was in Dublin and I didn’t even recognise him. He looked so gaunt.
It was so sad to hear that he’d died, because we’d had some great nights together over the years. I remember one in particular down at Stringfellows in the days when we were still doing naughty things. I gave him a two-gram wrap of cocaine to take to the bog and he did the whole bloody lot in one go [laughs]. He was a lovely chap most of the time, but pretty volatile too, to be honest.
Rush
When Lizzy were on tour with Rush in the mid-70s, they were still travelling around in a one of those Winnebago mobile home kind of things. We were at the Holiday Inn in Detroit, and they were parked outside. The hotel bar was horrible, and Alex had a flightcase full of Chivas Regal, so we decided to have a party on the Winnebago. Phil [Taylor, ’Head drummer] said to me: “Robbo, I bet you can’t sink a whole bottle of Chivas Regal in one.” I bet him 50 bucks that I could and necked one. About a minute later I puked it all up again all over Alex’s bunk. I said: “Phil, the bet wasn’t that I had to keep it down, it was just that I had to down it in one.” He had to stump up.
Another night, Alex turned up at our hotel dressed in a smoking jacket and a cravat, and Geddy had on a frilly woman’s nighty and high heels. They started doing this bizarre skit based on some comedy series they’d seen as kids, but it was totally lost on us.
Ronnie Wood
I lived with Ronnie Wood’s first wife, Krissy [model Krissy Findlay], for a while after he’d split up with her. I ended up being like a dad to Ronnie’s boy, Jesse James. One day Simon Kirke and Ronnie and Keef came round to drop off this crate of excellent red wine, and Ronnie goes: “How can you live with that woman? She’s totally fucking bonkers.” I said: “I don’t know, Ron, these things happen.” Then a couple of months later I realised he was right and I left her. Jesse’s a lovely guy. We still keep in touch. He’s got three kids of his own now.
Paul Kossoff & Sandy Chard
I never got to meet Koss, but he was another great Les Paul player that I loved. He was a bit like Peter Green – he had that great vibrato and all that subtlety and taste. When I think of Koss I also think of his girlfriend, Sandy. She had this beautiful blonde hair and was very pretty.
One night my dad was down from Glasgow on business and I took him to dinner at the Speakeasy club [late-night haunt for musicians in London in the 60s and 70s]. Sandy was there, and she kind of fell for my dad. I’d been trying to get into her pants for ages but she didn’t show any romantic interest in me. She started sending love letters to my father. It almost caused my parents to divorce, but I think my dad was secretly very flattered.
Tim Wheeler (Ash)
When I was working at Blue Audio in Islington in 2004, Timmy Wheeler from Ash came into the shop one day and asked me if I wanted to come for a jam. I went to his house, and he’d got me in this black Les Paul, which was quite sweet. So we played a bit, then after a while he said: “Actually, could you just show me the chords for The Boys Are Back In Town?” I was like [covers head with hands], “Oh, no! Not this again!” I showed him the chords, then his girlfriend offered to cook us some dinner, but I told her I don’t really eat that much. I ended up playing The Boys Are Back In Town with Ash at the Oxegen festival in Ireland.
Originally published in Classic Rock magazine issue 150, September 2010
