The latest issue of Classic Rock features the final part of the Thin Lizzy story, as drawn from Harry Doherty's unpublished biography of the band.

To ask Harry questions about the piece, the unpublished book, or his time with the band, please add comments below.

Classic Rock's Dave Ling spoke to Jim Fitzpatrick, Thin Lizzy's long-time sleeve designer, about his relationship with Phil Lynott. Here's some stuff that didn't make it into our current issue:

Irish artist Jim Fitzpatrick met Philip Lynott in 1973 and having struck up a lifetime friendship was responsible for most of Thin Lizzy’s iconic sleeve art. The relationship was productive, but not without mishaps. “I was living in Madison, Connecticut, when Philip came for a discussion about the Bad Reputation sleeve,” laughs Fitzpatrick. “He was several hours late and I got a call from a phone box. He’d gone to Madison, Wisconsin, instead!”

Along with Jailbreak and Johnny The Fox, 1979’s Black Rose is among the most celebrated Lizzy sleeves.
JF: Artistry-wise, it’s my favourite. We were going to use a photograph of a rose that had been sprayed black, but it died. When I drew it, I suggested making it look as though blood was coming out of the rose, which Philip loved.

Are you as happy with the following year’s Chinatown?
Well, it’s completely different. An enormous amount of work went into the dragon on the front – every scale was hand-painted. I really like the other dragon that’s on the back, too.

And yet you weren’t involved with Renegade (1981) or the band’s swansong, Thunder And Lighting (1983).
I actually did a great sleeve for Renegade, but the record company didn’t use it. I drew Philip as a wanted poster. He was lighting a cigarette; it was really cool. There was also an incredible design for Thunder And Lightning, but again it went unused.

That must rankle when you consider the clichéd sleeve that Thunder And Lightning eventually went out in.
Definitely. I love Bob Elsdale’s work with a camera, but that wasn’t one of his best examples.

You stayed in contact with Philip after Lizzy’s demise and said that you felt that he was “slipping away” the last time you met.
Undoubtedly. He was demoralised, running on empty. Whether it was the drugs or the drinking, or both, his physical contrition was awful. A strong person like Philip never admitted defeat. And yet he appeared ready to cash in his chips – musically speaking. Walking along the beach, we played demos of his second solo album [The Philip Lynott Album, 1982]. He had one half of the headphones, me the other. It was magnificent. How could he be so down on himself making music like this? But the record label didn’t like it. Philip’s downfall was largely of his own making, and also due to the company he was keeping, but I sincerely believe that the record company played its part.

They wouldn’t allow him to be anything but a macho rocker?
That’s it exactly. They saw him as the guy on the Fighting album sleeve, but he was always a very gentle person and he didn’t want to do it anymore.

Did you speak to him about his lifestyle?
Yeah, I gave him a very hard time about taking serious drugs. I dislike heroin intensely. And his pill popping? That’s something that nobody ever talks about that, but, Jesus, he was dropping every amphetamine known to man. I remember throwing a big jar of them out of a speeding car. The guy whose pills they were went nuts and almost killed me on the spot, but I was happy to take him on. And Philip covered my ass in that instance.

But obviously, he wasn’t really listening to your warning.
Oh, he’d pretend to. I had no idea that he was [injecting] heroin, although I knew he smoked it. He was doing himself enormous damage. Dirty needles… ugh, it was a horrible way for a man of his finesse to die.

Visit Jim's website at http://www.jimfitzpatrick.ie/index.html