CREEDENCE CLEARWATER
REVIVAL Willy And The Poor Boys (Fantasy)
Despite
Creedence’s fearsome productivity rate – “Willy And The Poor Boys” was their
third album of 1969 – there’s absolutely no discernible dip in quality here.
Cynical minds might point to a slim running time padded out with covers and
instrumentals, but that would cruelly ignore just how well
Creedence’s albums worked as albums, rather than merely being disparate
collections of songs rounded up to satisfy contractual obligations.
“Willy And The Poor Boys”
opens optimistically with the busking feelgood factor of “Down On The Corner”,
the rip-snorting rock ‘n’ roll space oddity “It Came Out Of The Sky” and the
rose-tinted nostalgia of “Cotton Fields” (although The Beach Boys got to that
one first, admittedly). In a glorious metatextual self-referential “Sgt. Pepper”
moment the cover photo and the titular ensemble namedropped in “Down On The
Corner” all come together on “Poorboy Shuffle”, but as it pans off to the right
the steady percussive thump of “Feelin’ Blue” rolls in from the left like a
gathering storm, and the mood darkens considerably. It’s almost as though the
album sheds its blinkers at that point, preparing to confront the politically
and socially charged times that surrounded it.
It’s a side of the band that rarely seemed to make it to compilations or
the radio…aside from the following “Fortunate Son”, of course, an astonishing,
accusatory 140 seconds dominated by John Fogerty’s throat-shredding vocals,
which might just leave you wondering why Creedence’s influence on punk hasn’t
been more frequently cited. “Don’t Look Now” is a Guthrie-esque workingman’s
choogle, a sparse but pointed sermon. Possibly the finest moment in album
crammed with competition, though, is the closing six-and-a-half minute “Effigy”.
It almost feels like stumbling upon a previously unheard Neil Young song of
“Southern Man” potency; magnificent, chilling and sulphurous.
The
current vinyl issue of “Willy And The Poor Boys” has been sensitively mastered
to heavyweight vinyl and wrapped in authentically vintage packaging, right down
to the design of the labels. It also sounds absolutely ravishing in its crunchy,
chunky analogue loveliness.
CREEDENCE
CLEARWATER REVIVAL Green River (Fantasy)
Although
rarely reluctant to proclaim his own genius, could it be possible that John
Fogerty is underrated by everybody except himself? Listening to another
excellent Creedence Clearwater Revival reissue, it’s a tempting conclusion.
Their third album, “Green River” crackles with rock ‘n’ roll vitality, even if
it burns itself out in less than 30 minutes.
The title track and
“Commotion” are brief, brilliant and blistering, “Tombstone Shadow” bluff,
bluesy and unstoppable, “Sinister Purpose” appropriately threatening. “Bad Moon
Rising” is perhaps the textbook definition of the art of choogle, sounding like
Johnny Cash’s Sun recordings fortified against the crash and burn fallout of the
hippie dream. As with the album’s successor, “Willy And The Poor Boys”, it’s the
moments that haven’t been relentlessly plundered for compilation duty that are
the most magical, top honours here being taken by the shoulder-shrugging
melancholia of “Wrote A Song For Everyone”.
Lovingly
mastered and carefully pressed on heavyweight vinyl, the music practically
floods out from this wonderful record. The labels promise “Full Radial Stereo”,
and I do believe I get it.