John Fogerty: Revival

 

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Label: Concord/Fantasy
Sound/Style:  retro-styled rock with country and blues influences

By Steve Morley

As the creative force behind the band Creedence Clearwater Revival, John Fogerty captured a musical snapshot of a splintering nation. The California quartet’s brief lifespan—1968 to 1972—coincided with cultural fallout, burgeoning tensions over the Vietnam War, and violent intergenerational conflict. Between songs of exuberant release, Fogerty chronicled the decay of post-Kennedy America. He sang prophetically of impending doom on numbers like “Bad Moon Rising,” which could as easily be about Armageddon as Hurricane Katrina. The key to the endurance of songs like these is Fogerty’s use of deep and sweeping symbolism.

The former CCR frontman’s solo efforts have been far less topical overall, though the recent reconciliation of a three-decade-long legal wrangle over the rights to his songs has renewed Fogerty’s desire to speak out on current events. The resulting album, Revival, is being touted as a return to form, which is only partly true, as every Fogerty album carries the essence of his old band to some degree. The most obvious nod here is “Creedence Song,” a tasty rehash that joyfully revisits the twangy riffing and country-rock pulse of vintage CCR.

Some of the rockier numbers are unusually derivative, however, like the ZZ Top-influenced “Longshot” and the blatantly retro “Summer of Love,” which unleashes old hippie rhetoric as well as Fogerty’s blistering lead guitar in a sonic tribute to Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix.

Fogerty’s protest songs, meanwhile, are perhaps his most vociferous to date. (“I bet you never saw the old school yard/ I bet you never saw the national guard/ Your daddy wrote a check and there you are/ Another fortunate son/ I can't take it no more/ I'm sick and tired of your dirty little war/ I can't take it no more.”)

The political activist bares his fangs at the Bush administration on “I Can’t Take It No More” and “Long Dark Night” in pointed lyrics that won’t age half as well as anti-war ravers like “Run Through the Jungle” or “Fortunate Son,” both of which are pushing forty but speak far more eloquently about war and political machinations than the new material. (“Some folks are born made to wave the flag/ Ooh, they’re red, white and blue/ And when the band plays ‘Hail to the Chief’/ Ooh, they point the cannon at you/ It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no senator’s son/ It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no fortunate one.”)

Similarly, his sitting-duck potshots at wealthy but directionally deprived celebrities on “It Ain’t Right” are on target but are as disposable as yesterday’s Weekly World News: “Another long weekend with your friends/ I thought that party would never end/ Well, up to your rehab and gone again/ It ain’t right, it ain’t right/ Honey, such a waste of life.”

With slightly more substantial lyrics, this rockabilly stomper would be a sure keeper. The disc does contain several, like the genial and uptempo celebration of romance in “Natural Thing,” the gently swaying semi-spiritual “River Is Waiting,” and “Don’t You Wish It Was True,” a bittersweet wish for freedom from earthbound tribulations that evokes the best of the CCR years. (“An angel took my hand, said you don’t have to hurry/ Got all the time in the world, don’t worry/ Don’t you wish it was true/ What if tomorrow everybody was your friend/ Anyone could take you in/ No matter what or where you been.”)

Revival isn‘t exactly Creedence Clearwater Revisited, but it shows a revitalized John Fogerty amply armed with his trademark howl and his well-worn saddlebag of country, blues and rock. To hear the best of what Fogerty has said through the years, go back to the older records. But for proof that an old-schooler can still deliver the musical goods, Revival is a sign that the big wheel keeps on turning.

Audio Clips

"Don't You Wish It Was True"

"Gunslinger"

"Credence Song"

"Broken Down Cowboy"