George Starostin's Reviews

CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL

"I could be most anything, but it got to be twenty-four karat solid gold"

General Rating: 4

Introduction

ALBUM REVIEWS:

Disclaimer: this page is not written by from the point of view of a CCR fanatic and is not generally intended for narrow-perspective CCR fanatics. If you are deeply offended by criticism, non-worshipping approach to your favourite artist, or opinions that do not match your own, do not read any further. If you are not, please consult the guidelines for sending your comments before doing so.

This page also hosts comments from the following Certified Commentators: Lyolya Svidrigajlova.

Introduction

Ah, the little silly swamp guys. Nah, forget that. Truth is, they were one of my favourite four bands (fourth, actually, after the Beatles, Stones, and the Jim Morrison fella) for more than three years or so, and even though, once I got tired of 'em, they don't appear on my CD player too often, never mind: I still hold a soft spot for Mr John Fogerty, his magnificent raunchy voice and delicious guitar chops. After all, they seem to have been Paul McCartney's favourite American band, and you can't get away from that, can you?
Back in the late Sixties, when they burst out on the scene, CCR certainly constituted a mighty opposition to the predominant directions that unfortunate American rock music had taken: the ultra-professional and rich, but not thoroughly entertaining, blueswailing of the Allman Brothers Band and its peers, on one side, and the acid-dripping psychedelia of the Airplane and its peers, on the other. CCR were neither trippy nor esoteric. They just played on - simple memorable tunes, all built on traditional blues/rockabilly, but somehow they were able to give all these songs a sharp edge that even now jerks me up each time I hear a good ol' Fogerty tune.
The main problem with CCR has thus always resided within the question: what did these guys ever bring into rock music? A question which is indeed hard to answer. Creedence Clearwater Revival had always put the main emphasis on the 'retro' character of their music, recreating the ancient boogie-woogie spirit of Chuck Berry and Little Richard with just a few (but significant) updates for the late Sixties' sound. But this music was never particularly innovative or original; even worse, the few times that the band tried to suit the times, it hopelessly lost - just listen to the atrocity of the psychedelic suite 'Rude Awakening # 2', recorded in 1970, when psychedelia was already on its way out, for instance.
In this way, it is really hard to rate CCR as a band with a 'distinct original style' or something like that; the band certainly had its distinct original style, but you couldn't really tell what it is in one sentence. Overall, the four-star rating that I give 'em here is justified by a whole bunch of significant advantages. Namely, CCR were a great, but not terribly original band, that fully met all the basic conditions for a good rock'n'roll band, hell - for an outstanding rock'n'roll band. But just a rock'n'roll band, nothing more.
The key to the band's secret certainly lies in the giftedness of their leader and main ego - John Fogerty. It's mainly the man's combination of (a) very well-crafted, memorable melodies; (b) captivating and electrifying guitar playing; (c) an amazing singing voice; (d) an unprecedented overload of energy that have allowed CCR to occupy the position they're currently occupying and - I hope - will occupy for as long as the world stands. The rhythm section of the band was quite powerful, too, but let's cut the crap - it's John Fogerty we're interested in primarily.
His undoubted giftedness led to an almost unimaginable thing - in their prime, CCR were about the only Sixties' American band whose records were consistent from start to finish and contained next to no filler (I could say the same about the Doors, though, but that's another story). John managed to render even the most generic blues numbers completely enjoyable, and his own material was always penned according to the principle 'no hook - no song'. Despite this, he rarely relied on cliches - CCR's self-penned songs are more often than not original in structure, full of emotional resonance and brilliantly, sharply executed.
I think the key to CCR's secret lies in their 'genial simplicity': John and company demonstrated that you could be an exceptionally good blues player without having to turn your six-string into a monstrous riffing machine a la late Sixties hard rock or, even worse, into a complicated solo programming machine. Take, for example, the longest jam they ever did - the brilliant coda to 'I Heard It Through The Grapevine': instead of letting go like some Duane Allman or Clapton (not that I don't like them, they just belong to another story), Fogerty just constructs an utterly simple and memorable composition, based on an endless repetition of a bunch of riffs and short soloing passages; instead of going off into unclear, so-so improvisations, he relies on exact musical phrases and 'looping' extracts. And the result? It's great, I can repeat it in my sleep, and, most important of all, it has a terrific drive which, unfortunately, is lacking on a lot of hardcore blues records. Another thing is that such a 'calculated' character of the songs led to CCR not being such a terrific live band as one would normally imagine; I mean, their shows were quite popular and probably deservedly so, but when the live sound is transferred on record, these renditions always pale in the light of studio recordings. But hey, who cares?
Of course, in another life I'd never have given CCR a rating of four; I have to admit that I'm pretty much biased towards the group, having spent a lot of my childhood with its records and admiring pretty much about every note that John Fogerty played on his guitar. However, this feeling is certainly justified. Let me just tell you this, in conclusion: there never has been, and there never will be, a better band for you than CCR if what you want is plain, unadulterated rock'n'roll that doesn't sound at all dated... and doesn't sound at all dirty... and doesn't sound at all cheesy.
OK, lineup now: John Fogerty - the singer, lead guitar player and songwriter, well, what can I say? the main Wizard of the band who does most of the job: listen to Mardi Gras to find out what happens when he's not. He's being backed by Tom Fogerty on rhythm guitar, Doug Clifford on drums and Stu Cook on base. They're all cute dudes, but I'm not going to pretend they are great. Indeed, I'm sick of hardcore fans always trying to praise every little wimp in their favourite band for being a great instrumentalist. They do their job nicely, and I like their style. Tom quit in 1971, and they didn't manage to find a replacement, carrying on as a trio through one more unlucky year before realising that nobody wanted them to kick around any more, so they split. After that, John Fogerty started a rather bizarre, hit-and-miss solo career that I took the time to study and review on his solo page. Not that it's brilliant, but if you're wild about CCR, you might move on further...

What do YOU think about Creedence Clearwater Revival? Mail your ideas

Your worthy ideas:

Lyolya Svidrigajlova <diamin@pop.gamma.ru> (07.11.2000)

Brian Adkins <badkins@mail.calltech.com> (27.11.2000)

ALBUM REVIEWS 
CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL

Year Of Release: 1968
Record rating = 8
Overall rating = 12

Your average New Orleans kinda band. But what a fantastic guitar tone!
Best song: SUZIE-Q

They burst out on the scene just as they were - loud, gruff, dirty and stinking of swamp mud. Indeed, few of CCR albums can boast a polished production (that's not an accusation), and lots of them sound like they were recorded live in the studio (that's a compliment). As it is, this record does not display us the talents of John the songwriter - most of the songs are covers, and the originals are pretty generic - but it does feature his talents as a singer and guitarist. Side A of this album, with its three cuts, is dang near perfect. The very first cut, the cover of the classic soul number 'I Put A Spell On You', tells you more about the band than you should really know. The terrific instrumental passages in the lengthy solo break were apparently very carefully constructed - I don't feel any elements of improvisation here - but that's only for the better: John really shows himself master of the guitar, brilliantly transforming one riff into another and finally bringing the solo section to a terrific rising climax. That's the style he'd been using ever since: dedicating himself to a careful analysis of the possible instrumental sections on his songs and making them as memorable and 'accessible' as possible. If ever there was something revolutionary in CCR's music making, it was John's approach to his instrumental work - as best evidenced on 'I Put A Spell On You' (and reprised on 'Walk On The Water' at the end of the record).
Next comes the 'original' - John's 'Working Man', about the hardship of the working class, but never mind the lyrics: there's one gruff and menacing guitar tone for you! Scary! And the way he soars on that first solo... man, I haven't heard anybody doing the same stuff. He really goes to show you that guitar solos which are carefully thought over can intoxicate people far more successfully than improvised ones. And, as much as I hate to agree with him, I just have no other choice... Of course, you also gotta have talent - and if you have talent, man, it doesn't really matter if you're a great improviser or a great 'musician-mathematician'.
The most famous number on here, though, is, of course, 'Suzie-Q'. That one sounds as if the boys have made a bet with somebody they would be able to turn this half-obscure short R'n'B number (see the Stones' version on 12 * 5 for further reference) into a magnificent rock epic. I'm sure they won the bet, 'cause they managed to make all the eight minutes of it as enjoyable as possible: interspersing the lyrics (partly sung through some kind of gadget so as to render these vocals more variegated) with some more inflaming solos, and finally bringing the whole story to yet another breath-taking all-instrument climax! Not to mention the mighty rhythm track, of course.
Unfortunately, they couldn't sustain the level of enjoyment throughout the whole record. Sometimes it even seems to me that all the 'primal thrust' that ol' Fogerty had in him at the moment had been thrust into the first side, cuz side B isn't really that strong. Well, for all it's worth, it does feature the terrific album closer 'Walk On The Water' with that strong riff in the middle that kinda reminds me of 'Pinball Wizard' (and pretty strange lyrics for the band, too - Fogerty wasn't too obsessed with mystical ravings or the Messiah thematics, not to my knowledge, at least), and 'Gloomy' is very gloomy, but 'Ninety-Nine And A Half (Just Won't Do)' doesn't hold very well after the far superior 'Working Man', the generic blues cover 'Get Down Woman' has its hooks, but not a lot of these, and worst of all is the stupid pop crap of 'Porterville' with its annoying refrain 'I don't care! I don't care!' Brrr. Really hate that one. Even though it sounds swampy.
That said, all the complaints are relative - apart from 'Porterville', none of the songs are bad, and they all have something to grab your attention, be it Fogerty's frantic bellowing on 'Ninety-Nine', the high-pitched, highly expressive guitar wail of 'Get Down Woman' or the backwards soloing on 'Gloomy'. Not to mention, of course, that, paradoxal as it might seem, the song structures on this album are far more twisted and complicated than on many of their subsequent efforts: only 'Working Man', 'Porterville', and 'Get Down Woman' are fully conventional. All the other numbers are 'multi-part', with shifts in tempos, clever gimmicks, and lots of stuff to distinguish the band's style from that of their less intellectually gifted competitors at the time.
Even so, in my role of self-proclaimed teacher, I give you one recommendation: never put your best songs on Side A! This way your listeners are gonna first enjoy your crap, and then rest dumbfounded at the better songs. Otherwise, they get all the goodies at once, and have to sit through the inferior material for no purpose special. And this affects your sales, doesn't it? No, really, what fun possibly could I experience from listening to the extended endings of 'Ninety-Nine' and 'Gloomy' if I've already sat through 'Suzie-Q'? Oh, all right, I s'pose they're still fine if taken separately, not on the album basis. Except for 'Porterville', of course, which, for me, points to the worst redneck excesses on Willy And The Poorboys...

Ninety-nine and a half just won't do! This review is incomplete without your ideas

Your worthy ideas:

Glenn Wiener <glennjwiener@hotmail.com> (01.09.99)

Lyolya Svidrigajlova <diamin@pop.gamma.ru> (07.11.2000)

BAYOU COUNTRY

Year Of Release: 1969
Record rating = 7
Overall rating = 11

A bit too short with some overlong filler, but oh so rough and tough...
Best song: PROUD MARY

The band released three albums that year which really makes me wonder if that was necessary. All the three were rather short, and with all the nasty filler hanging around they'd probably do a much better work to reduce the number to two. Or was it Fantasy Records that pressed them so hard on on the wings of their national and world-wide success? In any case, I'm no Superman to bring back the past, so we'll just have to accept things as they are. There are seven songs on here, and two of them are just long extended jams, obviously stretched out in the effort to fill up at least some space. Apparently, John wasn't the speedy songwriter... 'Graveyard Train' is a really slow blues workout, and I mean real slow - sometimes I feel an urgent need to speed it up on a seventy-two; and the harmonica break in the middle just doesn't thrill me as much as it thrill a lot of people. I do appreciate that there are actually two or three overdubbed harmonicas, but whoever is playing them, he's just repeating the same three or four phrases over and over, which makes the monotonousness of the dreary blues riff even sharper and harder to take: if you ask me, the song is nothing but an obvious space-filler. As for the album closer, 'Keep On Chooglin', I know it's considered an absolute anthemic classic and one of Creedence's most appreciated 'dance tunes', but I really can't find any important hooks in that song, except, of course, for the fact that it's quick, energetic and rip-roaring. Then again, so was 'Suzie-Q' (well, it was somewhat slower, but what the hell), and 'Chooglin'' adds little to its legacy. But at least 'Suzie-Q' had a riff, and 'Keep On Chooglin' has none, barring the possibility that its rhythmic structure is just copied from 'Bootleg', with some extentions. I dunno. Keep on chooglin'.
The other five songs, however, are prime stuff, and display Fogerty's songwriting and performing talents on a real roll: especially the songwriting, because he's no longer copying blues standards like on 'Working Man', lightweight as it was; he's leaning to diversify the blues and he's stepped onto 'pop-rock' territory as well. Out of these short songs, 'Bootleg' is the most lightweight, but it still chuggles (choogles?) along to a nice squeaky riff and I have nothing against it in particular; the acoustic rhythm playing is excellent and the way it interacts with John's lead lines is extremely memorable. I don't get the lyrics, though - maybe I'm not too smart, but I still don't understand if it's some kind of social commentary or some kind of an absolute imperative. Go see for yourself.
The cover of Little Richard's 'Good Golly Miss Molly' is as furious as might be, with John not trying to imitate Mr Pennyman but rather accomodating the song to his own vocal and guitar style: it's naturally far more hard-rocking, and it also initiates a series of fast CCR numbers - the band was too shy to play it real fast on the debut album, but this number gave them further confidence, and it's the natural predecessor to 'Travelin' Band'..
Meanwhile, 'Penthouse Pauper' is another fantastic blues song, with one of the best vocal/guitar interplays I've ever heard: John really throttles his guitar after each line about his possible avatars ('now if I were a bricklayer, I wouldn't build just anything' and so on). For anybody complaining about how stale blues-rock got by that time, the song should be a perfect remedy: these call-and-answer passages truly put Page/Plant to shame, and don't forget they're performed by just one person, too. And Fogerty's guitar minimalism really shines through, as the necessary cathartic effect is reached by some extremely simple guitar phrases.
And, of course, everybody knows the two most famous cuts: the opening 'Born On A Bayou' with its magnificent riff (later stolen by AC/DC for 'Hells Bells', which is an interesting, if not completely sincere-looking, hypothesis of mine) depicting New Orleans better than any Laura Bow series game, and the gorgeous 'Proud Mary' where I'd say it's really the vocals that make all the game. Not the silly refrain about rolling it on the river, though. Reminds me of 'Porterville'. But the song is great. Tina Turner had a hit with it but she didn't deserve it. John rules, however. And both of the songs deservedly became centerpieces of their live show: 'Born On The Bayou' usually served as the crowd-pleasing opener and 'Proud Mary' as the crowd-pleasing closer. Or one of the closers.
The overall sound of Bayou is a bit more polished and restrained than on the debut album, but it still ain't no Pendulum... have to admit that. They're just learning to produce, and John's guitar sound is generally thicker and more refined, but in general the arrangements are never complex and the songs still sound like they're stripped down to bare bones. Of course, that ain't no big letdown, and some actually prefer that 'bare' sound, but to me it still seems more like the result of extreme haste in recording than an intentional policy: the arrangements of their 1970 albums are far more lush and interesting. Still, Bayou is a very important transitional album between the 'rough' early period of CCR and the hit-full wonders of their mature period, and it's fairly necessary to own the record for the handful of excellent classics it presents us.

Keep on chooglin' and don't forget to mail your ideas

Your worthy ideas:

Glenn Wiener <glennjwiener@hotmail.com> (01.09.99)

Lyolya Svidrigajlova <diamin@pop.gamma.ru> (07.11.2000)

GREEN RIVER

Year Of Release: 1969
Record rating = 9
Overall rating = 13

A great bunch of short and enthusiastic tracks, but marred with a couple of lamers.
Best song: LODI

The correction! And what a correction is this! Yup, Green River might seem a bit too short, especially to those who adore the living hell out of it, like me... then again, the previous album was even shorter. And what have we got here? No more lengthy boring jams; almost no covers; and, what's the most important thing, practically no generic 'self-written' songs with different lyrics set to old melodies: John's songwriting talents have matured to the point when he could finally firmly grapple the blues-rock/country blues formula and do something truly creative with it. Considering the speed at which these guys were tossing off albums, it almost seems like Bayou Country was a marking-time album destined to keep the band in front of the public while John was fussin' and wussin' around with his sheetnotes; but from this time on Fogerty was determined to not let his records overflow with filler, whatever it cost him. And for the next year and a half, it cost him virtually nothing.
Unfortunately, there is a teeny-weeny bit of filler on this record, which automatically makes it less immaculate than Cosmo's Factory and prevents it from getting a 10 from me. Thus, I've never liked the artificially evil rocker 'Sinister Purpose' - I generally do feel all kinds of creeps coming over me when the guys play something 'evil' ('Run Through The Jungle', eh?), but 'Sinister Purpose' just sounds kinda dumb, probably because the lyrics are stupid: it's actually supposed to be a love song disguised as a musical nightmare, and there are certain macho elements here which do not really fit John's style. And the closing 'The Night Time Is The Right Time' (the only cover, and a stupid one at that) mostly consists of the same line being repeated over and over and over until it makes you sick. The sparkling guitar solo doesn't help either. What might be suitable for a mediocre live show hardly works as a suitable album closer - a strange, almost self-deprecating move, to finish off such a brilliant album on such a dumb note.
But if you omit these two stinkers, you get the most fantastic sequence of seven songs ever recorded by the band - cut by cut, they rock harder and more convincingly than anything the band had done before or since. The title track returns us back to the great swampy atmosphere of 'em bayous and voodoos and all that stuff, moreover, it is the most classic example of that fantastic 'echoey' vocal style that CCR is best known for and that has been reproduced by even the most seemingly unsuitable concurrents such as the Hollies (go figure! Yeah, the Hollies did rip off that sound for their early Seventies' 'comeback' on 'Long Cool Woman In A Black Dress' and a couple other songs). The guitar riff used by John on here is an all-time classic one - catchy, bluesy and hard-hitting, and, of course, dark, moody and swampy. The lyrics are also quite swampy, with 'nostalgic' remarks about the bayou lands (I put that in quotes - Fogerty wasn't even 'born on the bayou'!), but of course, unless you're a phonetist, you won't be able to understand a single word without the lyrics sheet. But dammit, I have lived for ten years without a lyrics sheet to the song, and it never spoiled my impression of it...
Meanwhile, 'Commotion' is one of their fastest, if not the fastest, pieces of angry boogie, and when those frantic riffs in the end hit you, wow!.. that's fast rock heaven, indeed. There are even elements of a punkish character here, if you can believe it - this is hardly blues at all. A great song for the Clash to cover, don't you think? Huh... 'Tombstone Shadow' represents John's guitar style at its best: simple but tasty angry licks all over the place, plus a great one-note solo in the middle. So you don't have to be an Eric Clapton to play that thing, after all: hey, sometimes one note is all that matters to set a flaming groove. And the first side fizzles out with 'Wrote A Song For Everyone' - a great, although a bit overlong, ballad. I mean, it's a wee bit too slow for me, but even the slowness has a virtue - it gives you full possibility to appreciate the beauty and power of Cosmo's mammoth drumming. It's also moving - a bit of a confessional tune, with Fogerty almost addressing the entire audience, and you can feel scorn and irony as he chants out 'Wrote a song for everyone, and I couldn't even talk to you'.
Recapturing the fast, bouncy spirit, 'Bad Moon Rising' totally kicks you in the groove - while the melody is slightly more simplistic than anything else on here, it's also catastrophically infectious and seems to carry you away with it. And 'Lodi' has to be CCR's best philosophical song ever; again, not that it has a great melody, but John brings forth all the talents he can muster in his voice. That's probably why it sounds so unconvincing in concert - because Mr Fogerty just can't reproduce the studio sound. The story tells of a (presumably) folk singer trying his luck in different cities - and ultimately failing. Fate has spared John such a turn of events, but parts of this story are certainly autobiographical, and the convincing power of his voice is amazing - ranging from humble and quiet to all-out screaming, sometimes in prayer, sometimes in desperation, sometimes almost in self-mockery.
Yeah, and did I tell you how much I dig 'Cross-Tie Walker'? Not that it has a great melody, too (yeah, I realize nothing on here really matches the hooks of 'Green River' and 'Commotion'), but it's just a good old-fashioned rocker, and it's adorned by some working grooves, like the marvelous descending riff ending in two drum plates crashes after each verse. Danceable, too.
So, overall, this is one mighty fine effort. It's all so simple any beginning musician could easily reproduce it with just a couple of efforts, but it's just the kind of absolutely disarming genuine simplicity when you'd like to shout at the top of your lungs: 'HEY! This stuff is GREAT! I wonder why nobody had done it before?' And, of course, you'll never get an answer. Not to mention that not everybody can really feel the power emanating out of here: it takes something in your genes to identify yourself with this kind of music. Luckily for me, this is one kind of music I'll always be happy to identify myself with.

The night time is the right time to mail your ideas

Your worthy ideas:

Glenn Wiener <glennjwiener@hotmail.com> (01.09.99)

Lyolya Svidrigajlova <diamin@pop.gamma.ru> (07.11.2000)

WILLY AND THE POORBOYS

Year Of Release: 1969
Record rating = 6
Overall rating = 10

A fine enough picture of the American small town society. But it doesn't really work for me, and does it work for the world? Takes time to think.
Best song: MIDNIGHT SPECIAL

Hmm. Well, first of all let me profoundly apologize before the potential flamers and all the American nation in general for not digging this album as much as they do. Maybe it's just because I'm not American. Maybe it's some other reason - we'll see about it below. But, strange enough, out of all the classic CCR albums, this is the one that really doesn't seem to cut it - not for me, at least; and, in fact, I can eagerly call it one of the most unfairly overrated records of all time, looking with disgust at all the saliva that drools from the rabid critics' jaws as soon as they begin gloating over this album's 'epicness' and 'unprecedented imagery'.
Overall, this is already a much more 'serious' and even 'conceptual' effort than the previous ones. This is a conceptual album, see? It's that damn sluggish country band named 'Willy And The Poorboys' standing down on the corner and doing all those songs? Now what does that remind me of? Ain't it CCR trying to do their own Sgt Pepper? Could be. But don't get me wrong: I don't have anything against the concept, in fact, it somewhat pleases me that CCR finally managed to come out of the 'simplicity' closet and deliver something that stood a little bit above the usual 'shake your ass and dig that blues' scheme, even if none of the songs taken individually betray the 'conceptual' idea. Then again, it was the same way with Pepper.
But on that same individual level, I do have something against many of the songs here. Blame me for whatever you may, but I still think that three albums in one year is a bit too much even for such a talented guy as John, and if Born On The Bayou suffered from space-filling overlong numbers like 'Graveyard Train', and Green River managed to be okay, but short, then Willy is just suffering from way too many underwritten and underdeveloped songs that fall short of the usual CCR quality standard. Nothing vague or ununderstandable - I simply think that there are some poor songs on this album, get it?
Okay, there's one great rocker ('It Came Out Of The Sky') which is so damn fast and funny (especially when you take time to get through all the lyrics) you'd never guess why its place is on this record and not elsewhere. It has one great ol' cover - 'Midnight Special'; there's really nothing special about that song but I love it for the tasteful guitar/vocals arrangement and the steady, catchy beat. It has one great country ditty - 'Cotton Fields', done that same year by the Beach Boys with worse results; here it shuffles along with enough conviction and Fogerty's vocals are warm and heartfelt to such a degree that you can easily see him raised on cotton fields just like you could imagine him 'born on the bayou' several months earlier. And, well, I don't usually feel like waking up in the middle of the night with an urgent need to listen to the great American anthem 'Fortunate Son' and 'Don't Look Now', but at least I can think of some reasons for their existence. And the well-deserved hit 'Down On The Corner', introducing the playful 'Willy and the Poorboys' band, is indeed catchy, inviting you to tap your foot, sing along, take up a kazoo or something, well you know, that kind of style.
But the other numbers all let me down. 'Feelin' Blue' is so damn looong, they overdid the cool guitar lines on that one; in terms of repetitiveness and overwhelming monotonousness, it is a legitimate successor to 'Graveyard Train', the only good point being that they substitute the rudimentary harmonica lines for rudimentary guitar lines. It could have been a nice passable two-minute groove, but it goes on and on and on with just the same stuff repeated over and over. 'Poorboy Shuffle'? Nah! Why the hell do I need to listen to that stupid harmonica crap, just as repetitive and simplistic? 'Side O' The Road'? An Allman Brothers inspired instrumental jam that once again tries to recapture the atmosphere of 'Graveyard Train'? Nope! Not again.
And the closing 'Effigy', well, here's one fucked-up song. Suddenly deviating from the country-rock/pub-rock formula, Creedence seem to be making an important sociopolitical statement, and accompany the ominous prophetical lyrics with a 'wall-of-sound' production: huge pounding drums, fat thick bass and waves upon waves of rambling guitars to imitate a... a 'burning fire' sound? In any case, the final result sounds like a cross between Led Zeppelin and Traffic, and there's nothing particularly good about it; just an experiment that doesn't seem to work. These overblown chords and out-of-tune bass notes give me a splitting headache...
I doubt that many American readers will be able to share my negative views on Willy, of course, because generation after generation of critics have proclaimed this record to embody the very spirit of the American South and stuff like that. Which makes me wonder how come these same critics manage to overlook Green River? Because that album embodies that spirit even better, and in addition to that, it's packed with actual and potential hits and has no stupid two-minute harmonica grooves or ultra-repetitive one-riff tunes or overblown political statements. There's just one small 'but': Green River isn't billed as a 'concept' album, and Green River has no 'Fortunate Son' - I suppose the immense critical success of Willy has a lot to do with that song and its 'acute social importance'. Well then, how come it has more social importance than 'Commotion' or 'Lodi'? It's just simplere to take, and soooo redneckish as well... In any case, I see Willy as a clear-cut case of the actual musical value of a record being tremendously overrated in favour of its 'social' value. The band's next album, while nowhere near as 'biting' and far less coherent conceptually, would be a huge improvement.

Feelin' blue, so mail your ideas

Your worthy ideas:

Glenn Wiener <glennjwiener@hotmail.com> (01.09.99)

Eric Kline <Eric.Kline@BestBuy.com> (03.02.2000)

Lyolya Svidrigajlova <diamin@pop.gamma.ru> (07.11.2000)

COSMO'S FACTORY

Year Of Release: 1970
Record rating = 10
Overall rating = 14

'Mature' is the word. All of the songs display creativity and richness of sound.
Best song: I HEARD IT THROUGH THE GRAPEVINE

Hey now! Maybe they didn't like Willy too much themselves, 'cause this hardly sounds like it. This sounds like a well-polished, carefully conceived and produced album specially intended for cutting lots of radio hits - and indeed, more than half of these songs are on the Chronicles collection. Not that I object. There's eleven songs on here, and each and every one is a small bright gem: hooks galore, and the arrangements are diverse and fascinating. Moreover, they sound mature and bearded (actually, they've been bearded before, but this one sounds like they're really bearded... er, long-bearded, if you get my drift).
The record's also a bit more serious than most of the previous effort, which does not, however, mean that you will be left without any straightforward boogie woogie numbers: there's three of them here, and all of them are great. Well, I don't care that much for their trusty rendition of Roy Orbison's 'Ooby Dooby' - but that's only because I don't see what it really adds to the original - Fogerty's guitar is as invigorating and mind-blowing as anything, but hell, the guitars on the original were fine, too. So I'd rather prefer their great road anthem 'Travelin' Band', which sounds very close to 'Ooby Dooby' but has a great whiff of originality and genuine CCR spirit around it. The brass section benefits the song greatly, too, and check out Cosmo's drumming, especially at the end of the song - so homely and close sounding, and yet, so wild and frantic. They also do Elvis' 'My Baby Left Me', not overshadowing the original, either, but doing it full justice; and the ol' blues cover 'Before You Accuse Me' distinguishes itself in my memory by possessing one of the most ingenious and memorable solos I ever heard in my entire life: excellently constructed and played with almost a mathematical precision, yet fully adequate and masterful (apparently, they just slightly modified the original, because if you listen closely to Eric Clapton's version of the same number on Unplugged, you'll hear him playing more or less the same way). In any case, on any previous records these four numbers could have been the highlights - but only could be. On Cosmo's Factory they just sound OK. Not supernatural.
And why? Because they've clearly outgrown the boogie-woogie phase! Just look at these songs! Have you heard 'em before? You have? No sir you haven't! Go listen to them again! (Drum roll). The beautiful ringin' ballad 'Who'll Stop The Rain' would have easily earned the album at least a solid nine: it has simply no analogs in the band's previous catalog efforts! The heavenly riff ('raining' guitar), Fogerty's inspired, soulful vocals, a delicate, echoey production and Cosmo's bombastic drumrolls over the place make it perhaps the best place to start with CCR if catharsis and utmost emotional uplift is what you're searching for.
But if you're in for something spooky, then the scary as hell, menacing rhythms and the even more scarier grungy singing on 'Run Through The Jungle' sends shivers, real shivers, runnng down my back - unlike, say, 'Sinister Purpose' or anything like that. If 'Who'll Stop The Rain' is CCR at their most tear-inducing, then 'Jungle' is CCR at their most terrifying (speak of a 'Gimmie Shelter' for the band). I remember that in my childhood, when I was all over Tolkien, I always used to associate the song with Sauron's forces conming out of the Black Gate of Mordor - a very authentic-looking association, too, if one assumes that the unsettling patches of 'white noise' that open and close the song symbolize the opening and closing of the gates.
For something funny and relaxing, check out the song before 'Jungle' - the chuggin' pace of 'Lookin' Out My Back Door' may be famous to you if you're already acquainted with 'Cross-Tie Walker' and 'Don't Look Now', but somehow it manages to be more fresh and energizing than the two of them put together. Maybe it has something to do with the silly lyrics depicting a circus show, or with the muffled guitar strumming that opens the song, or with the unexpected change in tempo at the end... aw hell, you get my drift: there's just so many things happening all over this record that it's impossible to describe it all.
My favourite point on here, though, is the fantastic jam on 'I Heard It Through The Grapevine' that I already described in the intro paragraph; it proudly takes its place as the most complex and intoxicating instrumental passage the band ever recorded. That's not to say that I shun the main melody of the song or anything: the grim drum/bass battles that separate each verse of the song from the following one are really something. But that jam... man, you gotta hear it to believe it. The Allman Brothers Band can go sulk in the corner - and that's considering that I would never really mind a solid Allman Brothers jam. I suppose I've almost learnt it by heart - I've worn out my old trusty tape to complete exhaustion.
Less captivating (but still wonderful) songs include the slightly irritating but hopelessly sticking-into-you riff of 'Up Around The Bend', also something they never did before; and finally, the majestic mingle of saxes and frantic vocals on 'Long As I Can See The Light' is the best end to a CCR record - even though it is slightly reminiscent of 'Wrote A Song For Everyone'.
A great record. You'll be hooked from the very first note of it... oops, I forgot. Yeah, I forgot to mention the only real flaw. What a fool of me. 'Ramble Tamble' is a great song by itself, but that sloppy middle instrumental section bores me to death. They were obviously going for imitating some art rock sound or something like that, but they failed miserably. Slow repeated rhythms like that just don't belong on a CCR record. Brr. Really boring stuff, even though it's obvious they're trying hard: on first listen it seems to work, with these distorted chords playing over and over until a soft moody sound comes on and John plays that moody riff in lots of variations. But that's only on first listen. You can't really enjoy it more than once. But forget it. These songs are really fast, well-written, funny and clever. And they don't try to reduce 'em to hard rock like all their contemporaries were eagerly trying to do around 1970. They retain their style and actually embellish it. What a cute thing to do.
There's really really nothing innovative about this record. Not a single element, I guess, if you don't count the wonderful magic of turning an eleven-minute jam into a breathtaking piece of music. But this is one of the few cases when I say 'I don't care'. Cosmo's Factory, apart from the miserable elements of pomposity on 'Ramble Tamble', is a rock'n'roll masterpiece from start to finish. You might take it not as an 'innovative' piece but rather as a 'compendium' for everything that the basic rock'n'roll had really had the pleasure to bestow on humanity. Catchy, energetic, varied, emotional, professional, well-produced... not a flaw for miles around. The one rock'n'roll record to buy if you only pan on buying one rock'n'roll record - could well be.
But could they keep such a high standard for long? Nah, they couldn't...

Before you accuse me, mail your ideas

Your worthy ideas:

Glenn Wiener <Glenn.Wiener@Entex.com> (26.08.99)

Lyolya Svidrigajlova <diamin@pop.gamma.ru> (07.11.2000)

PENDULUM

Year Of Release: 1970
Record rating = 7
Overall rating = 11

A significant change in sound, but this is still quite listenable.
Best song: HAVE YOU EVER SEEN THE RAIN

Hmm. Well, maybe they didn't like Cosmo's Factory, too, 'cause this hardly sounds like CCR. Oh, okay, a couple of tracks still capture that old simplistic bash-your-head-against-everything atmosphere. Thus, the opening 'Pagan Baby' ends in an ear-splittering guitar marathon, and I do mean it literally: John makes his guitar sound as if he's running a race, jumping over barriers, splashing through puddles, and dropping down dead after arriving at the finish. I like it! I don't even pay attention to the dumb lyrics that are kinda low even for Fogerty's standards, and ol' John never been a terrific lyricist. But that instrumental section is definitely the last of the unforgettable 'CCR Trademark Instrumental Jams'. And meanwhile, 'Hey Tonight' is just another good old-fashioned rocker in the vein of 'Up Around The Bend' (a great raucous crowd-pleaser, I mean - the melody is quite different, of course; Fogerty never liked ripping himself off, at least, not until he quit the band). As for 'Have You Ever Seen The Rain', this one can take its rightful place alongside 'Who'll Stop The Rain' as one of CCR's most gorgeous ballads, even if it's slightly more lightweight. Yet 'lightweight' doesn't mean 'poor' - whereas the sound is slightly less 'epic' than the cathartic power of 'Who'll Stop The Rain', the Pendulum number speaks to the listener on a more humble and close basis, with no pretentions and a certain warmth and depth that can only come from a heart and mind as rich in emotions and expressivity as that of Massa Fogerty's.
But the rest of this pie just doesn't smell that much of good old times. In their search for renewal they've hit upon the keyboards and lengthy jazz improvisations (like on the rather lame 'Born To Move'), and even if this by no means sounds like an embarrassment (in fact, whoever plays the keyboards, he does it might fine), it will certainly cause some of the more obstinate shoulders to be shrugged and some obvious questions to be raised. Not to mention that rabid fans of Fogerty's guitar will certainly be offended: only a minor part of these songs, mostly the ones mentioned above, are guitar-heavy, with saxes and organs often replacing guitars as both rhythm and lead instruments. Me, I don't blame nobody for taking a risk and having an experiment - especially if it ain't a blatantly failed one, but I still don't think this album has any serious advantages over anything they did before. By all means, it could have been a very nice swan song for the band. Let's face it - what should a reasonable rock band do when it runs out of steam and can't muster itself in order to jump to the next phase? Right you are - it should be disbanded. CCR weren't, and just you see what kind of disaster followed two years later...
But stop it, we're speaking of Pendulum right now. Yeah, these songs are short of spectacular, but they're still nice, like the thoughtful ballad 'Wish I Could Hide Away' which wouldn't sound out of place on a late Dylan album, or the retro pop of the silly, but charming 'Molina', with its wonderful hilarious saxophone solos. And I almost blush to admit it, but I deeply love 'Sailor's Lament'. My musical knowledge is not very deep, but I suppose it doesn't take a genius to guess that the song is based on about two chords in total, and its repetitiveness could almost be called proverbial, and yet deep down my subconscious... well, it does something to my subconscious, because I've always adored it immensely. Genial simplicity, I guess. Not to mention the song's wonderful 'bounciness' - can you really resist it? I certainly cannot.
'Born To Move' is the one song I hate on here because it reminds me of mainstream so-called 'rock and roll' of somewhere around 1960-61. In other words, it simply sucks, with its obvious pedestrian descending riff and corny brass section. Note that I'm not mentioning the lengthy jazz outro, though: that one seems like a completely different piece of work with some clever organwork going on for a lot of time but never really seeming boring. The melancholic, introspective ballad 'It's Just A Thought' could be a good moody album closer; instead, this honour is relegated to 'Molina' and...
Oh. Well, that's what really pisses me off about this album. In fact, that's the exact reason I've deprived it of one point. 'Rude Awakening Number Two' is a stupid 'instrumental' that is probably deemed to sound 'psychedelic'. But, first of all, 1970 was a little bit too late for psychedelia - what were these guys doing in 1968? A little late, aren't we? Second, this nasty stuff would probably be panned even in the golden era of psychedelia, and your humble servant would be among the first to throw in his stone. It starts with a nice little guitar workout which sets a slightly sad mood comparable to the one set by 'Stairway To Heaven', but then it quickly degenerates into an uninspired sound collage which is for the most part just pointless heaps of guitar/keyboard noises sometimes punctuated by what sounds like a buzzsaw. You'll either need an ear protector or a programmable CD player so as not to be seriously bothered. Yes, ladies and gentlemen. Time to break up in a short while.

It's just a thought, so mail your own ideas

Your worthy ideas:

Glenn Wiener <Glenn.Wiener@Entex.com> (26.08.99)

Lyolya Svidrigajlova <diamin@pop.gamma.ru> (07.11.2000)

MARDI GRAS

Year Of Release: 1972
Record rating = 2
Overall rating = 6

A "democratic" album. John must have been totally off his rocker to let the other guys sing.
Best song: SOMEDAY NEVER COMES

The most weak bunch of country-western songs I ever heard bar one (and it was a Ringo Starr album, too). Tom Fogerty suddenly decided to play the Wise One and left the band, reducing it to a trio. However, instead of trying to tighten up and to toughen down, John suddenly turned the whole band loose, allowing the other members to write and sing their own songs. This way, there's only three Fogerty songs on this album - and they're not that good. Oh well, only one of them isn't that good, which is the opening 'Lookin' For A Reason'. I'm still lookin' for a reason why this pedestrian country shuffle with an absolutely generic melody that has nothing to do with the creative style John had always been applying to most of his 'rootsy' material before, is credited to J. C. Fogerty, because it sounds more like the following songs credited to D. Clifford and S. Cook than like the other two John ditties, which, coincidentally, rank along with his best material.
Namely, there's a beautiful nostalgic sad ballad on here ('Someday Never Comes') that always brings me to tears, no, not tears of a relief ('oof, something worthwhile, finally'), but real tears due to emotional catharsis. John really lets loose on the number, and the introspective, deeply intimate lyrics are arguably his all-time best, a far more thorough penetration into human soul than the cliched Southern battle cry of 'I ain't no fortunate son!' or something like that. And another minor highlight on the album is a somewhat more generic rocker ('Sweet Hitch-Hiker') that is nevertheless distinguishable, if only because it's about the only song of here that briefly recaptures the Creedence spirit of old, with its raunchy guitar, Fogerty's classic rasp and an excellent riff carrying the song along. Thus, while neither of the two songs present any musical advances and are in fact a regression from the slightly experimental style of Pendulum, they are still both at least a breath of clean air.
Because most of the other stuff is purely unlistenable. Okay, let me correct myself: these songs do not seem to tear my spleen out of my wide open breast, nor do they threaten my personal welfare in general. But if somebody says stuff like 'hey, this sounds good! Just like a good CCR album should sound!', the only thing I'd have to reply would be something like 'yeah, if this sounds like a CCR album ought to sound, them Beetles should better have stayed in their art colleges.' By any standard, and not just by the Creedence one - even by your average country-rock standard, this is a pretty bland collection. All of these songs sound alike, and even the Nashville gang could write better - when they really tried. Not to mention play better; perhaps, if these guys had only managed to bring in the talents of such ace country players like Pete Drake or Sneaky Pete Kleinow, some of the numbers could have been saved. But Stu Cook and Doug Clifford never really tried, and John seems only too happy to tone down his guitar playing and spare us from his hard-hitting solos so as to draw all the attention to these two guys' pathetic stabs at songwriting. 'Tearin' Up The Country', 'Need Someone To Hold', 'Take It Like A Friend' - these songs and all the others belong to a one-star western movie. Not to mention that after being used to John's wonderful voice, the hoarse rasping of Cook and the bland overemoting of Clifford really get on my nerves. And ballads like 'Sail Away' should be forever banned from any record for promoting musical stagnation.
And when the band all joins in on their cover of Gene Pitney's 'Hello Mary Lou', where you'd think they'd at least display some real chops and real power, in reality they just... well, they just do it in the most ordinary way possible. Who needs group harmonies from this band when only one person can truly sing? Who needs standard by-the-book country licks when this group's guitar sound was always distinguished by one person's distinct and unimitable playing? Who needs this complete, hideous loss of identity?
No wonder the album has been bashed and thrashed around and is still despised by most normal people (including some of the CCR members themselves, as rumour has it). And this is certainly one definite spot where me and the critics shake hands. Throw this stuff in the gutter, especially since the really good stuff has been carefully picked out and placed on Chronicle. Naturally, the guys disbanded the group soon afterwards, but my general belief is that they should have disbanded before this album instead of turning the band into a Nashville filial agency.
And another thing: have Stu and Doug been secret Nashville agents all the time and were they just biding their time, waiting for Tom to leave so they could strike their decisive blow? Or maybe they just listened to a bunch of country albums over a glass of gin and became countrymaniacs? Imagine the Rolling Stones suddenly releasing something like a complete album of weak reggae tunes and pretending they'd been singing reggae all their life!

Take it like a friend and mail your ideas

Your worthy ideas:

Glenn Wiener <Glenn.Wiener@Entex.com> (26.08.99)

Mats Fjäll <mats.fjall@telia.com> (05.01.2000)

Tony Souza <avsouza@webtv.net> (22.01.2000)

Lyolya Svidrigajlova <diamin@pop.gamma.ru> (07.11.2000)

Bob Josef <Trfesok@aol.com> (17.12.2000)

LIVE IN EUROPE

Year Of Release: 1973
Record rating = 6
Overall rating = 10

Decent live playing, but where's Tom? Three's not a company!
Best song: a hell of a choice!

CCR were never my favourite live band, because John was mostly keen on reproducing the studio sound on stage, and even if it probably did sound great, the atmosphere just don't make it onto record. In other words, there's nothing these live records add to the already perfect studio recordings. Seeing CCR perform onstage was probably a revelation to fans - nothing could be more exciting than to hear these blazing chords and that magnificent voice "professionally amplified", so to speak; but the atmosphere doesn't really easily transfer on record, as is the usual case with, well, with atmosphere: maybe with bands of the CCR type, bootleg quality recording would actually make more sense than a crisp sound.
And moreover, this album was recorded in 1971, right after Tom Fogerty stole their rhythm guitar; as the liner notes proudly proclaim, this is 'CCR's only live trio recording'. As if it were something to be proud about - imagine releasing something with a sticker like 'The Beatles' Only Shitty Live Performance'. John is a musical hero, of course, but it's rather hard to cope as rhythm player, lead player, and only singer at the same time. He is bravely trying to cope with all the three functions, but it still ends up sounding kinda thin and lifeless, formulaic and conventional in comparison with the studio originals. Plus, the guitar tone on about half the tracks sounds awkwardly similar to the one a Pete Townshend guitar would have had after a couple thousand windmills, and every time John cranks up a note you have to wrinkle your face and crumple your ears. Either the mix was so crappy, or it was just a guitar that was badly out of tune or half-broken; the amount of unnecessary fuzz gets extremely high at times.
Oh well, at least the song selection is good. 'Born On The Bayou', 'It Came Out Of The Sky', 'Lodi', 'Proud Mary', 'Commotion', 'Hey Tonight' - any needs to complain? Prob'ly not. Some of the songs are medleys ('Green River' includes a couple verses of 'Suzie-Q', and 'Keep On Chooglin' unexpectedly turns into 'Pagan Baby' halfway through), but that's about all the surprises you're gonna get. All of these are played as close to the originals as is possible with just one guitar, but it's also obvious that singing and playing at once is a painful task for Fogerty - sometimes he steps away from the mike and sometimes he just misses notes.
That said, it's hard to imagine Fogerty spoiling any of his chef-d'oeuvres in person. Even with one guitar in the band, the material still holds its hands up to the master. Thus, 'Green River' might sound a bit flat and shallow without Tom's thick rhythm playing to back up the brother, but John still burns the house down with his solos, occupying every possible place with that rockin' atmosphere so that you don't even notice the absence of Tom any more. The short improvisation bit at the end of 'Susie-Q' is sheer brilliance, proving that John could improvise a little when necessary. On second thought, I haven't heard any previous live performances from CCR, so that bit might have been actually overrehearsed to death.
Another song that suffers nothing is 'It Came Out Of The Sky' - nothing from the lack of a rhythm player, at least, as this is the crucial point at which John's feedback gets totally out of control and the sharp, crystal clear guitar tone of the original becomes simply unreproductible. But I just sit back and let myself be entertained by the Master as he belts out the complicated lyrical lines with all the necessary passion and melodism required. And then the faster numbers keep pouring out - 'Travellin' Band' convinces, 'Fortunate Son' amazes (never been a big fan of the Great Redneck Anthem, but can't deny the sheer musical power of the number), and 'Commotion' stomps like a mad elephant. 'Lodi' is marred by feedback again, but is just as tear-jerkin' as before... aw, man, it's really needless to describe all these tunes. They rule. And a culmination in 'Proud Mary'. Could this be the best tune Creedence ever wrote? While we're on the subject, though, I'd like to say that all the speculations on the 'best-song' topic are completely pointless and don't make any sense at all. None at all. Excpt, of course, when you're talking about shitty bands like Uriah Heep where it takes ages to find at least a single candidate for that nomination.
But don't let me digress. Anyway, while it's perfectly possible to dump a bucketload of horsedung at the album and leave it at that (which is precisely the thing the stupid reviewer in question did in his previous two-sentence review of it), all biases aside, this is still a hell of a lot of fun and quite recommended for CCR diehards, even if there's really no need to specially recommend a CCR album to a CCR diehard. It doesn't represent the band at the peak of their live power, but hey, maybe that sticker was right after all - it's interesting to see if CCR could cope as a three-person band or not. With a little bit of feedback editing, Live In Europe would actually boast an excellent live sound, and, like I said, John provides enough of an axeman talent onstage to compensate for lack of rhythm player.
Any ultimate proof? THE GODDAMN SUCKERS HAVEN'T SHORTENED THE 'KEEP ON CHOOGLIN' JAM NOT BY A SINGLE BIT. It still goes over twelve minutes, for Chrissake!

Hey tonight! Gonna mail your ideas?

Your worthy ideas:

Mats Fjäll <mats.fjall@telia.com> (11.11.99)

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