Tag Archives: Country

Creedence Clearwater Revival: The First Six Albums Reissued

With Concord Music Group having purchased the Fantasy catalog, the fortieth anniversary of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s debut LP provides a suitable opportunity for a fresh round of reissues. All six of the original foursome’s albums (from 1968’s Creedence Clearwater Revival through 1970’s Pendulum) have been struck from new digital masters and augmented by previously unreleased tracks. Those who purchased the 2001 box set can pick up most of the bonus tracks separately as digital downloads (the two longest bonuses are CD-only). Those who didn’t buy the box, and think they’ll buy all six reissues may want to consider the box set for its inclusion of pre-Creedence work from the Blue Velvets and Golliwogs, the seventh CCR album Mardi Gras, the 1970-71 live recordings and several box-only bonuses. But for those just wanting to pick up a few favorite albums, these reissues are the ticket. Each is presented in a digipack with original front and back cover album art and a 16-page booklet with photos, credits and new liner notes.

Creedence Clearwater Revival
The Great American Band’s Debut

Creedence’s self-titled debut finds the band making the transition from blues and psychedelia to the bayou flavor that made them the greatest American rock band ever. The disc opens with a resurrection of Screaming Jay Hawkins’ “I Put a Spell on You.” Fogerty’s vocal hasn’t the insane menace of Hawkins’ original, but his manhandling guitar solo shows how broad his vision of American music was going to be. The same is true for the group’s cover of Dale Hawkins’ “Suzie Q,” extending the rockabilly classic into an eight-minute epic. Doug Clifford’s fade-in backbeat gives way to Fogerty’s insinuating guitar riff, and a run through of the lyrics leads to an intense guitar jam whose feedback-lined climax dissolves back into the smoke of a fading backbeat. The album’s third cover is “Ninety-Nine and a Half (Won’t Do),” offered as a harder blues than the original’s Stax groove, and with a more ferocious vocal than Wilson Pickett’s original.

The originals, all written by John Fogerty, aren’t the swamp-rock icons of later albums, ranging from the straight blues “The Working Man” and “Get Down Woman” to the soul-psych “Gloomy” and jamming “Walking on Water.” The tune that points forward is “Porterville,” where you can hear the seeds of CCR’s swampy rock and an aggressive individualism in Fogerty’s lyrics. The 2008 CD’s bonus tracks include the throwback harmony rocker B-side of the group’s first single (originally issued as the Golliwogs) “Call it Pretending” and a 1968 album outtake of Bo Diddley’s “Before You Accuse Me” that’s less refined than the version they’d record for Cosmo’s Factory two years later. Two superbly present live tracks from a 1969 Fillmore show repeat “Ninety Nine and a Half (Won’t Do)” and “Suzie Q,” the former close to the studio original, the latter a set-closing showpiece demonstrating Fogerty’s hypnotizing guitar mastery stretching out to nearly twelve minutes.

Bayou Country
The Great American Band Finds Their Mojo

By the time Creedence recorded their second album, Bayou Country, John Fogerty had fully merged his broad range of Americana music influences into a wholly new sound. The El Cerrito, California bred songwriter re-imagined himself as a bayou musician whose guitar rock crawled from the swamp laden with backwoods blues and country twang. Fogerty debuts his persona on the album’s opener, with reverbed guitar bending over, around and through the group’s brilliant rhythm section. It’s a perfect bookend to the album’s closer, “Keep on Chooglin’,” whose title and rhythm define the underpinnings of the band’s musical vocabulary. In between Fogerty crafted the lasting myth of “Proud Mary,” fusing the group’s newly born shuffle, the soul of Stax and fictionalized images of Mississippi riverboats.

The band plays spare, late-night blues on “Graveyard Train,” but the images of lonely rural highways, railroads and undertakers all return to the album’s bayou hoodoo. The lone cover is a version of Little Richard’s “Good Golly Miss Molly” that finds Fogerty tearing up his overdriven lead guitar. The 2008 CD’s bonus tracks open with an alternate take of the shuffling “Bootleg” that’s stretched to double the original three minutes with a scat vocal section added to the middle. There’s also a trio of live tracks from the three-piece version of the group (sans Tom Fogerty) that toured Europe in 1971. “Born on the Bayou” is more rock ‘n’ roll fierce than the album track, “Proud Mary” is a by-the-numbers rendition of a band’s Big Hit (and seems most to miss Tom Fogerty), and “Crazy Otto” is a nine-minute blues jam recorded at the Fillmore in 1969.

Green River
The Great American Band’s First Completely Original Effort

Creedence’s third album (their second for 1969), Green River, is their first completely original effort as a band. Gone are the lengthy San Francisco jams, replaced by concisely written and arranged songs that concentrate Fogerty’s evocations of an idealized South. The album opens with the title track’s sumptuous memory of a mythical childhood, a song so deeply soaked in Southern swamps that it’s hard to imagine it being written in the urban hills of California’s Bay Area. The Fogerty brothers intertwine their twangy electric guitars with familial telepathy. The sound first explored on Bayou Country is now heard on every cut, mellowing the blue “Tombstone Shadow” and providing an introspective stage for Fogerty’s ballads. Even the frantic “Commotion” is given a Cajun base for its lyrics of a country boy demolished by the city’s hyperactivity. Fogerty’s social conscience stretches biblical allusions to then present day situations on “Wrote a Song for Everyone,” and with “Bad Moon Rising” the visions turn catastrophic. There’s a great deal more darkness here than on any other Creedence LP.

Fogerty’s guitar could be sinewy or ring with the influences of Chet Atkins, as does his solo on “Cross-Tie Walker.” Country music also makes an impact on the sorrowful, highly personal lyric of “Lodi.” The album closes with its sole cover, a slow rockabilly take on Ray Charles’ blue-soul “The Night Time is the Right Time.” The 2008 CD’s bonus tracks include a pair of pre-LP backing tracks that were never completed, the country-shuffle “Broken Spoke Shuffle” and the twangy “Glory Be.” Also here is a trio of live tracks from the group’s 1971 European tour. “Bad Moon Rising” is rushed (as are so many songs played live), a medley of “Green River” and “Suzie Q” is condensed to four-and-a-half-minutes, pointing out the two songs’ similarities more than giving the latter its full due, and “Lodi” is a fittingly weary lyric for a band reduced to three of its original four members.

Willy and the Poor Boys
The Great American Band Notches Their Second Classic

Creedence’s fourth album, their third full album for 1969, Willy & The Poor Boys, was even more of a classic than the preceding Green River. The band sounds even more at home with their sound and Fogerty’s creativity was stoked by the blistering pace at which he was creating new material. One could be forgiving of a few album tracks that didn’t measure up, but there weren’t any. Fogerty’s pen was overflowing with quality tunes and the band’s covers of “Cotton Fields” and “The Midnight Special” are so thoroughly inscribed with the Creedence sound as to be their own. Even the instrumental confection “Poorboy Shuffle,” with its wheezing harmonica and washboard skiffle, fits tightly into the album’s sequence, providing a light introduction and crossfade to the Ike Turner styled “Feelin’ Blue.”

The darkness of Green River is mostly dispelled here, as “Down on the Corner” opens the album with a joyous shuffle that coasts on Creedence’s potent rhythm section, and the paranoia of “It Came Out of the Sky” is played for rural laughs. Fogerty’s not without his calluses though, and “Fortunate Son” opens with a low, throbbing bass and memorable guitar riff to accompany the blistering attack on masters of war and privileged souls who get others to fight their wars. The 2008 CD’s bonus tracks include live versions of “Fortunate Son” and “It Came Out of the Sky” recorded by the three-piece Creedence on their 1971 European tour. The former is sung at a breakneck tempo that doesn’t seethe as fully as the studio original, the latter, recorded in Berlin, features the same hot guitar mix as other tracks from this show. Closing the CD is a version of “Down on the Corner” recorded with Booker T. and the MGs. The mono audio of this last bonus is less than sparkling, but where else are you going to hear John Fogerty and Steve Cropper swapping guitar licks?

Cosmo’s Factory
The Great American Band Hits Their Peak

Creedence’s fifth studio album, Cosmo’s Factory, expands upon the gains of their previous two releases even as it returns to the jamming, psychedelic roots and enthusiastic cover songs of the band’s 1968 debut. The result sums up the band’s evolution with socially-charged guitar jams (“Ramble Tamble”), concise, iconic hit singles (“Travelin’ Band,” “Up Around the Bend” and “Lookin’ Out My Back Door”), memorable B-sides (“Who’ll Stop the Rain,” “Run Through the Jungle” and “Long As I Can See the Light”), heartfelt throwbacks (“Before You Accuse Me,” “Ooby Dooby” and “My Baby Left Me”), and a tour de force eleven minute reworking of Marvin Gaye’s “I Heard It Through the Grapevine.” Rhythm guitarist Tom Fogerty would stick around for the next LP (Pendulum), but this one’s actually the more fitting summation of the original foursome’s 2-1/2 year run. John Fogerty might well have sensed this was the high point as he sings “Lookin’ Out My Back Door” weary but satisfied, and “Long As I Can See the Light” as an elegy.

Given that all three B-sides should have marked their own time on the charts, one can easily imagine this album spinning off six hits, with the lengthy album tracks tucked away on the late night radio waves of underground FM. Legacy’s 2008 CD reissue adds three bonus tracks, including a post-LP studio take of “Travelin’ Band” recorded without horns, a previously unreleased live version of “Up Around the Bend” from the group’s final European tour and a 1970 studio jam of “Born on the Bayou” featuring Booker T. on organ. If you’re only going to buy one Creedence LP, this is as good as it gets. Of course, that could equally well be said about Green River or Willy and the Poor Boys, and perhaps even Bayou Country. Best bet: get them all.

Pendulum
The Great American Band’s Last LP as a Foursome

Creedence’s sixth studio album in 2-1/2 years, Pendulum, marked their finale as a four-piece; two months after its December 1970 release, rhythm guitarist Tom Fogerty would quit the group for good. Unlike the summary of their musical inventions heard on 1969’s Cosmo’s Factory, their latest LP found John Fogerty pushing the group in new directions, including more blatant nods to New Orleans funk, Stax soul, and experimental studio productions. The album’s press – both at the time and with this reissue – suggested the new focus was partly motivated by the dismissive attitudes of the band’s peers. With a string of top-5 singles and a lack of trendy sounds on their albums, Creedence wasn’t always given their due as innovators. Fogerty may have felt stung, but instead of capitulating with nods to current trends, he sought to lead the band in new directions. Fogerty may well have felt restless after stringing together Bayou Country, Green River, Willy and the Poorboys, and Cosmo’s Factory in just 18 months. Fogerty wrote all of the album’s songs for the first time, employed sax solos and a vocal backing chorus and, most conspicuously, added generous helpings of Hammond B-3.

Given all those changes, the album opens with a characteristic heavy rock jam that would have fit the group’s debut. The organ lining the album’s single, “Have You Ever Seen the Rain,” portends the larger changes to be found within the album, and those innovations first kick in with the organ, saxophone and chorus backing of “Sailor’s Lament.” Fogerty’s keyboard provides a spooky introduction to “(Wish I Could) Hideaway,” offering melodramatics that harken back to the group’s earlier cover of “I Put a Spell on You.” Fogerty’s fascination with Stax turns blatant on the funky “Chameleon,” and the structure and riff of “Born to Move” provide a solid nod to Rufus Thomas’ “Walking the Dog.”

As a producer Fogerty gives his rhythm section its due on “It’s Just a Thought,” moving the bass and drums forward and rewarding listeners with some of Stu Cook and Doug Clifford’s terrifically melodic playing. The album closes with the Little Richard styled rocker, “Molina,” and the six-minute prog-rock experiment “Rude Awakening, No. 2.” The latter provides a “heavy” bookend to the album’s opener, but aside from the acoustic guitar intro, it’s rather tortuous. Closing track pretentions aside, this is a solid album whose new directions may not measure up to the group’s peak, but might have proved fruitful had the group not dissolved with 1972’s Mardi Gras. Bonus tracks on the 2008 CD reissue include the promotional single “45 Revolutions Per Minute (Part 1 and 2),” which finds the band experimenting in the studio with a “Revolution #9” like montage of production tricks, backwards tape, sound effects, musical bridges, comedy bits, and San Francisco DJ Tom Campbell. Wrapping up the disc is a live take of “Hey Tonight” recorded by the three-piece Creedence in Hamburg on their last tour of Europe. [©2008 hyperbolium dot com]

The Youngers: Heritage

Chiming, tough country-rock Americana

This Pennsylvania quartet’s second album opens with a combination of country, rock and ringing guitars so deft you’d be hard-pressed not to hum the verses and sing the chorus their second time around. The lyrics of “Heartbreaker” lash out in the best wounded-but-prideful pop tradition, dragging out the words in enervated late-night heartache. The worn spirit remains for “Heritage,” but as the ire of a railroad driver’s frustration with an overtaxing, unresponsive government. The song is driven by the drums’ steady march beat, with electric guitars adding country-rock grit. Recorded at Johnny Cash’s cabin studio (with John Carter Cash producing), the lyrics provide a contrast to the elder Cash’s nostalgic songs of railroading, yet still match the man in black’s respect for the underclasses. The driver of “Truck Driving Man” is also wearied, fatalistically worn from a working man’s pains.

Several of the album’s songs suggest open plains and Western landscapes, similar to the Sadies’ recent New Seasons CD. A farmer’s armed defense of his land in “In the Morning” could just as easily be set a hundred years ago as today, and the gambling drifter/drunk of “Highway 9” could be found wandering a stretch of asphalt or a dusty trail. Bassist Randy Krater steps to the microphone for the country waltz “The Ride,” a song whose allusions intertwine a dying love, suicide and the light of the hereafter. More traditional are the honky-tonk broken hearts of “Our Little Secret” and “Right all the Wrongs,” the latter a weepy waltz that opens with the drunken, a capella moan “I guess I closed the bar again tonight.” Tears rain down from the pedal steel of Ralph Mooney and fiddle of Laura Cash.

The bluegrass edged “Big Ol’ Freight Train” sports the more traditional theme of a love taken away, though one has to wonder why the singer’s mate was taken away on a freight train. Maybe she’s a brakeman or hobo. Two of the band’s influences are paid straightforward homage, starting with the tumbling, introspective poetry of “Seat 24” and its melodic reinterpretation of “Mr. Tambourine.” This is followed by the E-Street styled “Middle of the Night,” replete with wordy, rapid-fire rhymes and a Clarence Clemons inspired sax solo. Each feels like a writing exercise that ended up too close to its source, but they’re a minor distraction from the band’s original material, Todd Bartolo’s engaging vocals and the band’s muscular Americana sound. [©2008 hyperbolium dot com]

Listen to “Highway 9”
The Youngers’ Home Page

Mark Erelli: Delivered

Moving Americana folk-country and rootsy rock

Over the past nine years Mark Erelli’s explored a variety of Americana sounds, including singer-songwriter folk-country, western swing, nineteenth-century traditional tunes, and mid-American roots rock. His latest collection of folk and roots rock songs focus on family and society, including intimate first-person discoveries and broader political and social commentaries. The disc opens with “Hope Dies Last,” detailing the endless stream of horrific news with which we’re beaten on a daily basis. Sung intimately, Erelli sounds like Paul Simon worn down from the battles of younger years, provoked by a president who’d “rather talk to Jesus than to anyone who disagrees,” and pragmatically stifling his anger in the face of the endless bad news cycles. The same combination of confusion and resignation threads through “Volunteers” and its harrowing look at a weekend guardsman’s entrapment as a full-time soldier in Iraq. Sung starkly to an acoustic guitar, the pained vocal wails that close the song provide a live wire abstract of the lyrics’ horrors. The guitars toughen on “Shadowland,” as does Erelli’s critique of the extra-legal measures employed in the war and the resulting depletion of our moral foundation.

Several songs explore isolation and spirituality. The traveling musician of “Unraveled” looks home for salvation, and the questioning “Not Alone” travels between breezy images of nature, sleepy small town Sundays, and the heart of the city. The music climbs sympathetically from acoustic folk to full-blown country-rock and back. More peaceful is the first-person anticipation of a believer’s reward in “Delivered,” and its comfort for those left behind., and more contemplative is the working stiff of “Five Beer Moon,” dejectedly downing a six-pack and starting at the sea. Contemplating his small-town circumstance he finds himself trapped in a place where freedom is only in the imagination. Things turn upbeat with the rootsy rock of “Baltimore.” Its romantic longing and on-the-road lyrics (“I got a pawnshop ring and a yellow rose bouquet, honey that I bought in a cheap truck stop”) couple with shuffling drums and whistling organ to echo the character of Steve Earle’s Guitar Town. Erelli turns personal with two moving songs of fatherhood. In “Man of the Family” he steps into his late father’s shoes, wondering if he’s ready for the responsibility and realizing he’d been left all the tools he’ll need; in the lighter “Once” Erelli luxuriates in the love of fatherhood. Whether drawing from personal experience or creating fictional scenes, Erelli’s songs remain grounded with human emotion in every performance. [©2008 hyperbolium dot com]

View a video of Mark Erelli performing “Volunteer” here.

Mark Erelli’s Home Page

Hal Ketchum: Father Time

Soulful live-to-tape studio album from country hit maker

Ketchum’s been a country hitmaker since the early ’90s, with consistently interesting albums that have often shaded to the smoother, adult-contemporary side of Nashville’s output. In 1998 he split the sessions for I Saw the Light between Nashville and Austin, employing a more rustic choice of material and arrangements for the latter. The resulting album wasn’t as cohesive as his earlier releases, but taking the sessions individually one finds Ketchum standing authoritatively in both worlds. More importantly, the alternatives to Nashville’s way would again be exercised the following year with the electric blues “Long Way Down” and the Zydeco-inspired “You Love Me, Love Me Not.” Ketchum continued to revert to pop-influenced country, but he also wailed on a Bo Diddley beat for 2003’s “The King of Love,” found a soulful vocal gear for “On Her Own Time,” and championed the common man on the shuffle blues “The Carpenter’s Way.”

Ketchum’s last album, the 2007 release One More Midnight, was released in Europe but not the U.S., making this CD his first domestic issue in five years. In addition to some fine new songs (most newly written, a few selected from Ketchum’s catalog of previously unreleased works) and superb vocal performances, the presence of this live-in-the-studio recording is ear opening. Ketchum and his engineer (Craig White) capture the sort of intimate sound one used to expect from vinyl half-speed masters and direct-to-disc pressings. The purpose-built band, featuring Bryan Sutton, Darrell Scott, Eddie Bayers, Chip Davis and other A-listers, responds to the live challenge with performances miles beyond the baffle-separated, multi-track chart readings of modern recording. And it all took two days, no overdubs and only a few second takes.

From the opening track you can hear Ketchum roughing up the polish of Nashville’s manicure as his first-person narrative explores the human estrangement and philosophical implications of a panhandler’s hopelessness. A soulful backing chorus provides a taste of Muscle Shoals, but it’s Ketchum’s pained, emotional vocal that brings the song’s protagonist to life. He manages the same feat on “Ordinary Day,” crossing genders to voice the tired-but-satisfied voice of a waitress, and on “Sparrow” he laments the cost of war from the perspective of a Civil War soldier. More fantastically, the jazzy bluegrass and cooking Southern funk of “Millionaire’s Wife” backs a steamy noir-styled tale of cheating and betrayal, ending with the imprisoned mark’s death sentence: “She got a house and a long black Lincoln / I got a ticket straight to hell.” Think of Body Heat or The Postman Always Rings Twice as told by a poor sap on death row. A swampier second-line rhythm can be heard on the kiss-off “If You Don’t Love Me Baby (Just Let Me Go),” and the band fires up gypsy jazz sounds with Bryon Sutton’s fleet-fingered acoustic guitar playing on “Million Dollar Baby.”

Ketchum frequently writes about family, including a loping Marty Robbins-styled waltz, “Yesterday’s Gone,” that profiles his grandfathers’ decline upon the passing of their spouses, and the poor-but-rich nostalgia of “Surrounded by Love.” His great-grandmother’s passing provided the inspiration for the moody “The Day He Called Your Name,” and the album’s only cover, Tom Waits’ “Jersey Girl” is sung as a soulful fiddle-and-steel country love song for his Jersey-born wife. Closer to home, “Down Along the Guadalupe” paints an inviting picture of a summer evening on Texas’ Guadalupe river, with Spanish-tinged guitars providing fittingly lazy accompaniment. As noted earlier, Ketchum’s always been a consistent album artist, but freed to record as a musician (rather than a studio artist) he’s delivered a CD whose lack of production artifice inspires a level of artistry and soulfulness well beyond his middle-of-the-road hits. [©2008 hyperbolium dot com]

Hal Ketchum’s Home Page
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Gene Clark: Silverado ’75 – Live & Unreleased

An intimate look into a former-Byrd’s soul

As a founding member of the Byrds, Clark was known for both his singing and songwriting, having written and sung several of the Byrds most memorable tunes. His departure in 1966 led to a one-off recording with the Gosdin Brothers whose fusion of country and rock pre-dated the Clark-less Byrds turn (Sweetheart of the Rodeo) by a year. Clark rambled further on the country-rock road with Doug Dillard for a pair of albums, and finally recorded his first solo release in 1971. His songwriting and singing remained strong throughout, but his commercial fortunes never matched the success he’d found early on; even a 1973 reunion of the Byrds’ original lineup failed to generate any real sparks in the marketplace; what it did provide was an introduction to David Geffen, who offered Clark a solo deal on Asylum.

The resulting 1974 solo album, No Other, was miles from the rootsy directions Clark had been exploring, befuddling listeners with layers of instruments and studio effects. His label was likewise nonplussed, cutting the planned double album to a single, failing to fully promote the release, and providing little tour support; the album disappeared after slinking on to the bottom of the chart. So it was in the shadow of these failures that Clark set out on a lengthy tour of club dates with a trio composed of himself, Roger White on guitar and Duke Bardwell on bass. The artist’s disappointment and sadness is evident on this 1975 live recording in both the weariness of his vocals and the dismissal of the album with only two tracks (“No Other” and “Silver Raven”) on his set list.

The drumless, stripped-down sound of the trio is fleshed out with harmonica and three-part harmonies. This follows from Clark’s earlier country-rock work, and his pre-Byrds career as a folkie shows in the directness of his singing. Besides the folk-country staple “Long Black Veil” and the traditional “In the Pines,” the songwriting is all Clark’s. He reaches back to the Byrds first two albums (1, 2) for “Here Without You” and “Set You Free This Time,” each more weary and resigned than the originals, and Dillard & Clark’s nostalgic mid-western train song, “Kansas City Southern,” a mainstay of Clark’s live set, is less bluegrass-frenetic than the studio original and and more country-soul groove. Drawing “She Darked the Sun” from Dillard & Clark’s first album, Clark turns in his most focused and heartrending (if not always on-key) performance of the set.

In addition to a pair of songs from No Other (“No Other” and “Silver Raven” the latter included as an encore), Clark includes a song cut from the original release, “Train Leaves Here This Morning,” and a pair of new songs “Daylight Line” and the poetic, metaphorical “Home Run King.” The CD’s 65-minute running length includes some of Clark’s between-song banter, revealing the intimate space (both physical and personal) in which the show was performed. In many ways it’s fitting that the emotional strain of Clark’s lyrics are underlined by the physical exertion of club touring; this may not be Clark’s best recording, but it’s lack of artifice provides an unobstructed view into the songwriter’s soul. [©2008 hyperbolium.com]