Rock
John Fogerty
“Revival” (Fantasy)
On his previous album, “Deja Vu All Over Again” (2004), it sure sounded like John Fogerty had gone irretrievably soft. There were a lot of songs about domestic bliss, reflecting his contented home life with a wife and three children. Good for Fogerty, a genuinely decent man from all appearances, but the music was almost instantly forgettable.
“Revival” is a better variety of deju vu: Yes, Fogerty sounds an awful lot like the Fogerty who fronted Creedence Clearwater Revival in the ’60s and ’70s, but that’s not a bad thing. For decades Fogerty refused to play Creedence songs, stung by bad business deals, lawsuits and ill will. He has now reconciled with Creedence’s old label (Fantasy), which is under new ownership, and has written a new tune to celebrate the occasion. “You can’t go wrong by playing a little bit of that Creedence song,” he sings.
Fogerty unabashedly recycles some of his trademark guitar licks, and one or two from his ’60s peers (that’s Cream’s “Sunshine of Your Love” peering through “Summer of Love”). The singer’s nostalgia is tempered by the bad moon he sees rising over a divided nation. A buoyant twang disguises the foreboding in “Don’t You Wish It Was True,” but there’s no mistaking the rage inside “Long Dark Night” and “I Can’t Take It No More,” the toughest, fastest, nastiest minute-and-a-half of music he’s cut since “Fortunate Son,” back when Creedence was just about the best band in America.
Steve Earle
“Washington Square Serenade” (New East)
Earle’s 12th studio album loosely chronicles the latest transition in the Texas troubadour’s life as he leaves Nashville for New York City. At his side is his new wife, singer Allison Moorer, and she serves as muse or duet partner on several of the loveliest ballads Earle has written (“Sparkle and Shine,” “Come Home to Me,” “Days Aren’t Long Enough”). John King, one-half of hip-hop production gurus the Dust Brothers, infuses Earle’s folk melodies with programmed beats and electronic loops. It’s a fresh, invigorating twist that mostly enhances the songs, which are hit and miss. The political invective of recent albums is toned down for more oblique, but just as disturbing biblical imagery (“Jericho Road,” “Red is the Color”). But a few would-be anthems lack the lyrical specificity of first-rate Earle (“City of Immigrants” and “Steve’s Hammer”) and “Satellite Radio” is a surprisingly trite attempt at a pop song.
