Welcome to another edition of From My Collection. On Monday, May 26th, legendary guitarist Rick Derringer passed away at the age of 77. To say this loss is devastating would be an understatement. Though often characterized by mainstream outlets as a ’70s one hit wonder with “Rock and Roll, Hoochie Koo”, those in the know are aware that Derringer’s reach goes far deeper. His career dates back to the ’60s with garage rockers The McCoys, who scored a #1 hit with “Hang On Sloopy”. Come the ’70s, Derringer would remain prolific, as a solo artist, producer, sideman (largely for the Winter brothers, Johnny and Edgar), and as the frontman of his own namesake band, who happen to be the subject of today’s essay. These days, this eponymous outfit and Derringer’s solo output are often mentioned interchangeably, but make no mistake: These are two different entities. Come 1977, the band would unleash the defining moment of not just their career’s, but their band leader’s. This is the story of Derringer’s Live.
By the mid ’70s, Rick Derringer, now a seasoned veteran in the rock n’ roll game, was busy plotting his next move. He had a hand in producing or performing on some of the biggest rock hits of the decade’s first half, including the Edgar Winter Group’s “Free Ride” and “Frankenstein”, as well as his own “Rock and Roll, Hoochie Koo”. While these songs crossed over from FM to AM, Derringer’s music and scene lied firmly on the “album rock” side of the spectrum, his fanbase consisting of the same grass-smoking, long-haired freakers who dug the likes of Black Sabbath, Foghat, and Ten Years After, amongst other various FM staples.
Instead of pandering to the in crowd, Derringer doubled down on this cult ethos, forming a band who reflected his creative vision and the growing US hard rock scene. That band was Derringer. Joining Rick for this endeavor were hotshot 18 year old guitarist Danny Johnson, former Dust bassist Kenny Aaronson, and future Black Sabbath drummer Vinny Appice, who was also 18 at the time. Together, the quartet dropped a one-two punch in their 1976 self titled debut and 1977’s Sweet Evil. However, it was later in ’77 that the band would go the inevitable “live album” route, and by doing so would drop one of the most underrated heavy ’70s offerings of all time, Live.
On Live, Derringer and the gang tackle a wide array of songs, from their own original work to their bandleader’s solo oeuvre. What sets this album ahead of the pack is that even the songs we all know and love (see side B) are given new life, thanks to explosive performances, courtesy of a band that was young and hungry. Derringer’s bandmates were, for all intents and purposes, kids, and played with the youthful aggression of such. In turn, Derringer, the elder statesmen of 30 (old for rock n’ roll in those days!), was reenergized, and eager to kick as much ass as the players in his band.
Live opens with a punchy, poppy hard rocker in “Let Me In”. Initially featured as the opening track on Derringer’s self titled 1976 debut, I always felt “Let Me In” was a nod to the type of bubblegum metal KISS were forging at the time: A formula that led to one multiplatinum smash after the next. It’s hefty and rocking, but with a lighthearted power pop sensibility in the hooks and vocals, and even Derringer’s solo boasts some Ace Frehley-esque swagger to it. Come the latter half of the ’70s, many now obscure bands fell into this short-lived niche (i.e. Starz, New England, Piper, Striker). I might even go so far as to lump Derringer in there, but we’ll talk more about that when we eventually tackle their studio efforts.
“Let Me In” is followed by my personal favorite Derringer composition of all time, “Teenage Love Affair”. Featured originally on Derringer’s blockbuster smash, All American Boy (1973), “Teenage Love Affair” is a reflection of its era if there ever was one. Musically, it’s a rowdy, sleazy glitz rocker, chock full of headbanger riffage, throttling rhythms, and an obnoxious scream-along chorus. Lyrically, it’s about, yeah, you guessed it, a “Teenage Love Affair”, in which Derringer sings about “a cute little thing about fifteen”, whom he “touched and touched and touched” and “made love there in the daytime”. Don’t shoot the messenger; I’m just quoting the lyrics! As cancellable as this song may be in 2025 (if you’re some sort of dork), the fact of the matter is, it embodies the hedonism of the ’70s rock scene in one three and a half minute burst of excess, and it rocks HARD.
Moving on to less scandalous subject matter, “Sailor” shifts gears towards funky, wah-wah infused hard rock in the vein of what fellow guitar-oriented acts Mahogany Rush and Robin Trower were cranking out circa the mid ’70s. Written solely by Johnson, its very presence in the band’s set, and this album, is further evidence to the argument that Derringer was indeed a band, not a solo offshoot. Yes, Derringer was the captain of the ship, but his faithful “sailors”, Johnson, Aaronson, and Appice, all helped steer it. “Sailor” boasts some ridiculously sweet twin guitar work, courtesy of Derringer and Johnson, that goes toe to toe with any Thin Lizzy opus of the day.
Side A closes with one of the most metallic songs in Derringer’s catalog, “Beyond the Universe”. Appice lays down a proto-speed metal beat, reminiscent of his older brother’s work in Cactus, yet more developed and aggressive, as if to foreshadow his performances on cuts like Black Sabbath’s “Turn Up the Night” and Dio’s “Stand Up and Shout”. Derringer bangs along, unleashing one hard-nosed gallop riff after the next, before engaging in a lethal lead guitar showdown with Johnson. The soloing on this one owes nothing to the ’70s, sounding more in line with the traditional metal shredding we’d hear come the early ’80s via bands like Iron Maiden, Mercyful Fate, and even Cirith Ungol come the “acid metal” breakdown towards the end (Far out!).
As we flip over to side B, the first thing we hear is Derringer hyping up the audience. He’s not as explicit as Ted Nugent on Double Live Gonzo!, but evokes the same bravado, booming into the mic, “Everybody say yeah! Yeah! YEAH!” The crowd, under the spell of cannabis, quaaludes, and pure ’70s metal, scream along, eager for the next decibel-defying onslaught. “Sittin’ by the Pool” kicks off the latter half, coming off of what would’ve been the “new album” at the time, 1977’s Sweet Evil. This album saw Derringer and company shift gear towards funkier textures, and “Sittin’ by the Pool” is certainly a reflection of that. While it still rocks hard, the riffs, rhythms, and overall delivery is one of whiteboy funk n’ roll through a Marshall stack.
Derringer then throws it back to the All American Boy album with “Uncomplicated”. Now that I’m listening to this one with fresh ears, I’m starting to think I had it all wrong. Derringer wasn’t aping KISS…KISS was aping Derringer! The riff structure, chorus, and vibe of this one, as well as “Teenage Love Affair” for that matter, are as proto-KISS as it gets. Seriously, give this one a listen, and imagine Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons sharing lead vocals, while, Frehley wails away on the Les Paul. I apologize to you posthumously, Mr. Derringer! Ironically, Derringer himself would lend his lead guitar talents to one of my favorite (and heaviest) KISS songs of all time, “Exciter”, so make of that what you will.
“Still Alive and Well” is an intriguing number, as it was written by Derringer during his time with famed bluesman Johnny Winter. The song, a staple of the elder Winter’s catalog, served as the title track of his fifth studio album, released in 1973. It’s boastfully triumphant, yet sleazy and rockin’. While this particular arrangement might be more straightforward ’70s metal, lacking of Winter’s signature Texas heat, I can only chalk that up to Derringer and Winter being two completely different players. It was this dichotomy that contributed to their magic. Somehow, this Texan rebel and Ohioan garage rocker were able to mesh and create heavy blues bliss.
The grand finale arrives in a nearly 9 minute rendition of Derringer’s signature song, “Rock and Roll, Hoochie Koo”. Much like, “Still Alive and Well”, this song too was originally penned for Winter. However, it’s the funk-a-licious, heavy rocking Derringer version that remains synonymous today as opposed to Winter’s bluesy, almost proto-stoner metal arrangement. On this rendition, Derringer draws things out with a massacre of fretboard wankery straight out of ’70s arena rock extravaganza. And yet amidst all the notes, tricks, and flat out insane maneuvers, Derringer holds it together, bleeding heart and soul, before throwing in an easter egg rendition of The Kinks’ “You Really Got Me”, a song that surely inspired The McCoys a decade earlier, and would be revived by Van Halen a year later.
Although Live didn’t reach the commercial heights as KISS’s Alive! (1975), Blue Öyster Cult’s On Your Feet or On Your Knees (1975), or REO Speedwagon’s Live: You Get What You Play For (1977), it serves as an important artifact of its era: A release that bridges the gap between the post-heavy psych stylings of Sabbath, Purple, Heep, and so forth, and the groundbreaking early Americanized traditional metal of Riot, Y&T, The Rods, and the aforementioned Van Halen. Derringer would fold altogether just a year later, but their impact remains as prevalent today as ever, their DNA present in every gonzoid band who ever put on a denim jacket, sparked up a joint, and cranked it up to 11. Rest in power, Rick Derringer. We hope your fuse is lit in heavy metal heaven.
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