“Phil Lynott said, ‘Gary Moore is out the band. Could you come over tomorrow?’ My initial reaction was, ’I’m not the guy you should be asking’”: When Midge Ure joined Thin Lizzy on a make-or-break US tour, he had just one day’s notice and no rehearsals

In July 1979, Thin Lizzy were riding high following the release of ninth studio album Black Rose: A Rock Legend, and taking what many felt was their best shot at breaking the US. Gary Moore’s brutal mid-tour departure was not in the script.

When he walked out for the third and final time – reportedly in protest over Phil Lynott and Scott Gorham’s growing heroin habits – they needed to find a rapid replacement to complete their dates with Journey. They turned to a guitarist who, today, might seem an unlikely choice.

Midge Ure was at work in his London studio when Lizzy leader Lynott called from Arkansas. “He said, ‘Gary Moore is out the band. We’re doing this tour; could you come over tomorrow?’ My initial reaction was, ‘You’ve got the wrong number. I’m not the guy you should be asking.’

“I went back to my little flat and there was a plane ticket, a bunch of cassettes, a setlist and an itinerary saying, ‘A car will pick you up in the morning and take you to Heathrow.’ I found out they’d put me on Concorde, so I had no time to learn any of the songs!”

In the summer of 1979, Ure was still two years away from releasing game-changing Ultravox hit Vienna. His studio project, Visage, wouldn’t drop club classic Fade to Grey until November 1980. The concept of a synth-pop star hadn’t been invented. Instead, Ure had gained attention as guitarist for the post-Sex Pistols group Rich Kids.

He’d met Lynott a number of times, and the connection had resulted in the Scotsman’s co-writing credit on Get Out of Here and a production credit on the Irishman’s solo hit Yellow Pearl.

“I had read about Lizzy, and Philip’s association with Skid Row – weirdly enough with a very young Gary Moore playing guitar,” Ure recalls. “Then I saw Lizzy at The Picasso Club in Glasgow, with Brian Downey on drums and Eric Bell on guitar, before Whiskey in the Jar. Later I bumped into Philip walking around the streets of Glasgow.

“He remembered that in 1978 when I moved to London and bumped into him in the Underground. We just started hanging out. I was in the Rich Kids and he was just about to release Live and Dangerous. Never in a million years would I have though: ‘I’ll be touring America with them in a year’s time!’”

What were your first steps to learning the Thin Lizzy tracks?

“A ghetto blaster and big headphones. It was pre-Walkman. I sat on Concorde, sipping vintage Dom Perignon – which I’d never had before in my life – trying to get the structures in my head.

“The first time I touched a guitar to learn the chord sequences was in the hotel room with Scott Gorham. Every song had a guitar harmony to go with it. There was no rehearsal – we ran through some songs at soundcheck the next day: ‘You’ve got that; it’ll be fine. Get changed, get on and do your set.’ It was petrifying. Utterly petrifying. Thin Lizzy were a big band and I’d never been to America before.

“Musically my first impression was, ‘God, they’re loud!’ We had two massive Marshall stacks each. When you stood in front of your stack you couldn’t hear anybody else. I had to keep going over to Brian to check I was in time. It was an emotional turmoil of fear and excitement – just bizarre.”

How was the atmosphere within Thin Lizzy when you stepped in?

“Panic, more than anything. Black Rose was a really important record. It was dreadful timing for Gary to be removed from the band. It’s very difficult to promote an album that’s just covered in Gary Moore when you’re a three-piece without him.

“From talking to Scott, they were a bit worried about what was going to turn up after Philip called me. As it transpires, they were more worried about my trousers than my guitar skills!

“It was interesting being there as a member and an observer. Lizzy were opening for Journey, meaning the usual tricks were used against them – withholding the full PA and having the volume halfway down. It’s what big bands do to perceived smaller bands.

“I had turned up with a Yamaha SG-2000. I did the first few shows with that until, unbeknownst to me, it was deemed not cool enough for a band like Thin Lizzy to have a Japanese guitar. They were fantastic guitars, and still are, but it was suggested I use a very old Les Paul Junior, which obviously looked the part.

“I looked like I’d been beamed down from Star Trek, standing on stage with these guys with their studs and armbands, flicking their hair – and there I was, with my pointy sideburns, sucking my cheeks in!”

Why do you think Phil chose you to replace Gary Moore?

“I found out many years later from Scott that Philip had convinced the guys I knew all the songs. Well, I knew how they went, but I didn’t know them! My ability to learn things fairly quickly and quite possibly the friendship element had something to do with it.

“Scott said he’d never seen anyone thrown so deep into the deep end, having to learn an hour’s worth of material on the plane, and learning it well enough to get on stage in front of 30,000 people and play all these harmony guitar parts.

“Black Rose was the only track we couldn’t play live; we spent three weeks trying to learn it, but nobody was fast enough to do those Irish jig-type licks – which was a real skill.”

How did playing in Lizzy shape you?

“It gave me confidence as a guitarist; but it was odd because it wasn’t my music. My heart laid in Ultravox. We all took turns playing cassettes in the limo. They’d be playing ZZ Top and Bob Seger – very American stuff – and I’m saying, ‘Have you heard Kraftwerk?’

“Poor Scott would be sitting there pulling his hair out. But Philip would go, ‘Hold on a second, what’s this?’ He was a magpie; he always wanted to be associated with what was happening at the time.

“It made me more money than I’d ever seen in my entire life, and that gave me the wherewithal to get Ultravox up and running. I think I was better as a fan – I felt more comfortable watching Lizzy rather than being up there doing it. My head was full of electronic synthesizers and combinations of guitars; that wasn’t really gonna happen with Lizzy.”

Lizzy went on to tour Japan, and you stepped over to keyboards, as Dave Flett came in on guitar.

“They were always a guitar band. I never understood the keyboard thing.”

Do any particular memories of Phil stick out?

“He was like a big brother. When he saw kids offering me drugs, he would separate them from me… probably to have more for himself! He put his arm around me and kept me to one side. I’ve never done drugs in my life.

“The other thing was he used to drag me along to radio interviews during the tour. I’d sit there with not a lot to say, and he’d announce: ‘Right, Midge, tell them about Ultravox.’ It was very gracious and very generous of him.

“Lizzy were an incredibly important band, still cited as major influences. Whether you’re a rock musician or not, you cannot deny that Philip had a unique voice, he was a great songwriter, and that Lizzy live were one of the best things you could ever possibly see.

“He’s much missed. A big regret that both Bob Geldof and I have is that we didn’t ask Philip to get Lizzy back together for Live Aid. He wasn’t in a good way at the time, but we should have asked. It could have changed the outcome somewhat. It would have been great to have seen them up there doing it, just to remind people of how important they were.”

You were approached in 1975 to join the Sex Pistols. How long did you consider it before refusing?

“It was an immediate ‘no’ because they hadn’t asked what I did. They asked me because of how I looked – when everyone had long feather-cut hair, flares and black-heeled boots, I looked like James Dean with my quiff and straight tight jeans.

“Malcom McLaren and Bernard Rhodes stopped me coming out a music shop in Glasgow. I think they presumed I was a musician. They asked me if I wanted to join a band – they didn’t asked if I actually played. They were looking for the look, rather than the bones of talent. They found the best people they could find; I would have ruined it somewhat.

“The real reason they were in Glasgow was because they had a car full of stolen equipment they were trying to sell. Steve Jones used to see bands loading out at the end of the night at Hammersmith Odeon, and he’d pick up a guitar or a few mics. So I didn’t join the Pistols – but I bought an amplifier from them!”

Did you get a good deal?

“Yeah! I think I paid 40 pounds for it. It was a Fender or something, so it was a good deal… although not for the guy who initially paid for it…”

The Edge was meant to play on Band Aid’s 1984 charity track Do They Know It’s Christmas?, but he was sick and couldn’t make the session. Do you think he’d have altered the sound of the track?

“I think that might be a ‘poodle in the microwave’ story. I’m not sure anyone was geared up to play guitar on it. We tried some stuff with Paul Weller at my studio but it just didn’t fit because it was such an electronic track. The Edge is multiple echoes and jangling guitars, so he could have possibly done it.

“I’ve never thought of that before! He could have added another layer of something. But straightforward guitar – crash chords and stuff – seemed to work very well. John Taylor from Duran Duran took some bass guitar on it. I think it might still be on there, but incredibly quiet because the synthesizer thing seemed to drive along quite nicely.

“I’m not convinced… I don’t want to burst the Edge’s bubble; it would have been welcome had it happened. But I think that’s maybe one of those stories that’s just going to grow over the years.”

• Midge Ure tours the UK and Europe throughout 2025. Head to MidgeUre.co.uk for full dates.