CENTERSTAGE

CENTERSTAGE

Jeff Nesin

by

POP FLIES

JOHN FOGERTY

Garden State Arts Center Holmdel, N J

September 13, 1986

As night fell over this outdoor amphitheater only a few miles from the leafy glade of Prince Bruce, himself one of the legion of loyal keepers of the flame through the long years of legal banishment, the crowd buzzed with their individual and collective expectations of John Fogerty. Even with the stage still black, before the first note pr word, the large and varied audience rose in the darkness and cheered Fogerty, or their memory—or imagined memory—of him, come tike the true King Richard to reclaim his kingdom from the banal, less perfectly distilled usurpers who had prospered during his exile.

Of all ages, shapes and sizes the faithful were overwhelmingly respectful and somehow vindicated by Fogerty’s survival, just like at Elvis’s ’70s shows. Parents brought their kids just like at Elvis’s ’70s shows. But a lot of this inchoate longing seemed freshly minted, too. When I mentioned his name earlier that day to a 16-year-old who’d been in diapers the last time Fogerty had appeared anywhere, the genuinely excited response was: “CCR...awesome!” Must be those ‘‘the sound that earned 16 gold records” ads on cable TV. Anyway, absence certainly makes the heart grow fonder, even for people who weren’t there before he was missing in action. What to think?

Didn’t have to ponder long. The stage lights came up on John, clad in basic black (no flannel shirt), leading his first road band in 14 years through a generic instrumental and then “Zanz Kant Danz,” my least favorite Fogerty composition. Quickly there were some major problems. The appearance of three-fourths of a mighty gospel quartet seemed just to add more baggage. The rough and undisciplined play of his band contrasted terribly with the raw, spare brilliance of the legendary singles. The generous space provided the second guitar and the synth—there was one mid-set instrumental that must have been the national anthem of Venus—proved entirely unjustified and made me long for Creedence’s lamentable limitations. This from the man who cites Booker T. and the M.G.s as the greatest rock & roll band of all time!

There was a restorative vocal interlude —the Swan Silvertones “Mary, Don’t You Weep” and Sam and Dave’s version of Sam Cooke’s “Soothe Me”—when John sang marvelously in front of and in tandem with the Brothers from another era. But mostly there were overplayed stage versions of overwritten and, alas, decidedly mediocre new material, including nine new songs from Eye Of The Zombie, then still a week from the racks. The audience responded warmly to everything nonetheless,.and whenever they heard an intro they recognized, the crowd roared and stood, most ecstatically (and most poignantly) for “Rockin’ All Over The World,” the evening’s closer and only lonesome oldie. But they didn’t hear many.

Along with his banal, imperfectly distilled new band John was bringing his illconceived Creedence blackout to the people. Two weeks earlier, Fogerty told the New York Times: “When I hear ‘Prpud Mary’ on the radio, I just think of a lawsuit, and I don’t want to keep reminding myself of all that pain.” Myself, I think he could have suffered a little bit more for the sake of some of the greatest songs in the history of American music (No exaggeration!) and for the sake of the fans who came out to see him. Genterfield did not suddenly create this audience out of a vacuum. I predict he’ll be looking at a lot of empty seats when ticketbuyers realize they’ll only get “Old Man,” the welcome but unspectacular hit of 1985, and a dozen or so mid-’80s album cuts for their 15 buGks. But perhaps it’s for the best. As we drove home, a friend, attempting to console me, asked “Would you really want to hear ‘Proud Mary’ with a synth solo in the middle...played by that band?”

Anyway, I’m glad John’s back. Hope he rethinks this mess real soon.