When I hear the opening licks of “Proud Mary”, I can guarantee that I’m not thinking about Saabs, microbrews or guys named Milo or August.
I’m thinking about America, people. It’s all about having a game of catch with Dad, about applauding veterans as they march past me in the 4th of July Parade, about having a steak hot off the grill…I’d go on and on, but I’m sure I’ve made my point. Yes, my favorite American rock n’ roll group is staunchly American—duh—but I can go one step further.
Creedence also evokes a sense of community, a warm feeling that I’m on everybody’s side. It makes perfect sense, after all, because…well, who doesn’t like (if not love) CCR? I can say that with confidence, but not total confidence. Let me discuss.
Creedence can be called a lot of things. Calling them anything less than legendary is a crime. Having produced three platinum albums in the same year (Bayou Country, Green River and Willy and the Poor Boys) the adjective I’d use to best describe CCR is reliable. But how about unique or even original? Certainly, that’s debatable, but even if they weren’t out of the ordinary, why should that steer anyone away from listening to “Lodi”? Isn’t being great good enough anymore?