Essentials: The Top Ten Creedence Clearwater Revival Cover Songs

Introducing a band to the world with a cover song isn’t often done, yet in 1969 Creedence Clearwater Revival went against the grain by choosing Screamin’ Jay Hawkins’ 1958 soul classic ‘l Put a Spell on You’ as the opening track on their eponymous debut. Dropping the needle onto the Fantasy Records vinyl, you heard weird whooshes and chirps that John Fogerty described in his autobiography as “my son Josh’s baby toys. We had a jack-in-the-box, some pull toys, and one of those tops that hummed once it started spinning – whoosh whoosh whoosh hummmm. We recorded them, and then played them back at different speeds.”

The sound was like a spaceship leaving a planet and its gravity behind. Then you heard the gravely, guttural vocals of Fogerty, spitting out the lyrics while laying down riffs on his three-quarter size Rickenbacker guitar, urged by the pulsing rhythm section of Stu Cook (bass) and Doug “Cosmo” Clifford (drums). That would come to be known as CCR’s swamp rock sound. Fogerty’s chilling guitar break was an appetizer to the extended solo on the marvelous, eight-and-a-half-minute reworking of Dale Hawkins’ ‘Suzie-Q,’

Creedence Clearwater Revival released five Top 10 albums from 1969 – 71. That’s more than 99% of bands have in a career, though strangely none ever reached #1 on the charts. The success could be traced to the Fogerty brothers switching roles just prior to the first album with Tom relegated to rhythm guitar and John assuming lead vocals. In Tom’s words: “I could sing, but John had a sound!” This made the band but was also a factor in the band’s unmaking. John Fogerty’s fingerprints were found on every aspect of CCR’s music, from writing the songs  to lead vocals and lead guitar, producing and even a stint as manager. He ruled in an authoritarian manner, which chafed the other three like a tight shirt collar around their necks.

Tom Fogerty was the first to quit just before CCR went through an acrimonious divorce in late 1972. He died in 1990 after an unsuccessful attempt as a solo artist. It turned out he couldn’t sing or write songs very well. In 1995, Cook and Cosmo resumed as Creedence Clearwater Revisited with three musicians hardly anyone could name today. It took both Dan McGuinness (vocals) and Steve “The Captain” Gunner (lead guitar) to replicate John Fogerty’s part. A lawsuit alleging the band’s new name would cause confusion was ruled in favor of Fogerty but overturned on appeal. The group became essentially a tribute band, by various accounts a good one, and toured for two decades before shutting down along with more than half of the world’s population when a lab leak in China let loose the coronavirus.

In their short-lived glory years, Creedence produced six platinum albums. John Fogerty took all the credit for their success. “I was the one who had created all this. Despite that, I don’t think they (other three in the band) understood. They were obsessed with the idea of more control and more influence. So finally, the bomb exploded and we never worked together again.”

He tried re-branding as the Blue Ridge Rangers, though pictures on the album jacket of the seven members in the group all bore a resemblance to him. After that effort went belly up, he went solo and in 1985 had a huge hit with ‘Centerfield’ as memories of the other three in CCR faded away and became trivia answers. John delivered the eulogy at Tom’s funeral, saying, “We wanted to grow up and be musicians. I guess we achieved half of that by becoming rock ‘n roll stars. We didn’t necessarily grow up.”

Number 10: ‘Run Through the Jungle’ by The Georgia Satellites (self-titled 1986)

Inspiration was still on CCR’s side on “Cosmo’s Factory,” the band’s third chart-topping album in a single year. “Cosmo” was drummer Doug Clifford’s nickname and the “Factory” was what he called an empty warehouse in Berkeley, California where the band practiced. The rhythm section of Clifford and Stu Cook were on top of their game on this cut, which featured John Fogerty blowing a distorted lead on harmonica. Both the Jeff Healey Band and Gun Club recorded solid covers, but the choice here is an outright rocker by The Georgia Satellites. Fogerty’s duties were split between Dan Baird (vocals) and Rick Richards (lead guitar) on the sloppy, no frills southern rock band’s debut album.

Number 9: ‘Lookin’ Out My Back Door’ by John Jorgensen (“Chooglin’: A Tribute to the Songs of John Fogerty” 2002)

Another cut from “Cosmo’s Factory” found on the John Fogerty tribute album, a rather bland collection from musicians who could have done better. John Jorgensen’s contribution was an exception with some adroit picking and scratchy fiddle maintaining the sizzle of the original. Jorgensen was once with The Desert Rose Band and at times was called upon as a session guitarist for Bob Dylan. His countrified vocals are a distinct change of pace on a song filled with drug references, although Fogerty contends it was written for his infant son.

Number 8: ‘Bad Moon Rising’ by 16 Horsepower (“Ditch Digger” EP 1997)

David Eugene’s impassioned vocals highlight this sinister take on the apocalyptic lyrics in the song inspired by the movie “The Devil and Daniel Webster,” an adaptation of a short story by Stephen Vincent Benét concerning an indigent farmer’s deal with the devil. 16 Horsepower’s version appears apposite to the essence of the song, which Fogerty chose to tone down by a sunnier rendition. You should also seek the rowdy version of the song by Jerry Lee Lewis.

Number 7: ‘Proud Mary’ by Blitzen Trapper (“A Blues Tribute to Creedence Clearwater Revival” 2014)

“Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’ down the river”… became one of the signature phrases in rock history when John Fogerty wrote a song about a riverboat named “Proud Mary.” CCR was leisurely chooglin’ along in the same manner as many of their hits. The most famous of many cover versions is probably the one by Ike and Tina Turner, but Blitzen Trapper took the song, slowed it down a tad and delivered a powerful blues, with horns (possibly synths)and harmonica and ending with a melange of ‘rollin’ acoustic guitars and banjos

Number 6: ‘Walking on the Water’ by Richard Hell & The Voidoids (“The Blank Generation” 1977)

The Voidoids were the epitome of a punk band with all the trappings: torn vintage t-shirts accented by rips, army surplus jackets decorated with buttons and chains, patches symbolizing a lifestyle, enough safety pins and piercings to be at risk near magnets and spiked hair that looked as if it had been cut with sheep shears. The thing was, Richard Hell had pre-punked that look in the bands Television and Neon Boys before it became fashionable. He recruited guitarists Ivan Julian of the UK band Foundations and Robert Quine, a devotee of the Velvet Underground, who sported the traveling salesman look of plain dark suit and skinny tie onstage. Julian’s squawking, discordant guitar is prominent on their preternatural version of a cut from The Golliwogs, the pre-Creedence band  that changed its name to appease Saul Zaentz, the head of Fantasy Records, who would soon become John Fogerty’s arch-enemy.

Number 5: ‘Long as I Can See the Light’ by Ted Hawkins (“The Next Hundred Years” 1994)

This is a sparse interpretation compared to the one on “Cosmo’s Factory,” the third selection on this list from that classic record. Fogerty pulled out all the stops and played them as well, adding Wurlitzer and saxophone to the mix of soul and gospel. The song depicts the world-weary traveler looking for a light to guide him home, which made the song a perfect fit for Hawkins, who was about as downtrodden a figure as any of Leo Tolstoy’s peasants. Hawkins developed a penchant for self-sabotage early and it landed him in reform school, where he graduated to vagrancy, robbery, the state penitentiary, child molestation, a nervous breakdown, another stint in the pen and a few other misdeeds that wouldn’t be considered crimes today under California’s Prop 47 guidelines. Hawkins died at age 58, a few months after release of this album.

Number 4: ‘Up Around the Bend’ by Social Distortion (“Free Bird” OST 2013)

Crank this bad boy up to 10! Mike Ness is the only original member left of one of the best rock bands to ever strap on guitars and rip it up. Ness has said publicly that John Fogerty was one of his biggest influences as a songwriter, and that he had a blast recording a cover of this CCR song, even though it was for an unremarkable animated movie about turkeys and the first Thanksgiving. The basic idea for the song came to Fogerty while riding around Berkeley on his motorcycle, thinking about getting out of there (going up around the bend) to places unseen.

Number 3: ‘Wrote A Song for Everyone’ by Mavis Staples and Jeff Tweedy (“You Are Not Alone” 2010)

Two of Chicago’s music luminaries connected after Tweedy approached Staples with songs he had written with her in mind. She was astounded he had brought along recordings of old songs Pops Staples used to play for her and embraced the idea of recording an album with Wilco’s principal songwriter and vocalist. Critics saw the song as taking a stand for racial justice: “Saw the people standin’ thousand years in chains. Somebody said it’s different now, look it’s just the same”. Fogerty had an alternative viewpoint. It had to do with a disagreement between him and his wife that took a long time to settle. I wrote a song for everyone and I couldn’t even talk to you. This is a slow ballad from CCR’s “Green River” album which at first got a lukewarm reception. Forty years later, Fogerty re-recorded the song with country singer Miranda Lambert, featuring the righteous, hybrid riffs of ex-Rage Against the Machine guitarist Tom Morello. Staples and Tweedy coax a bit more gospel and grit out of the country-inflected song.

Number 2: ‘Effigy’ by Uncle Tupelo (“No Alternative” 1993)

This was the closing song on CCR’s “Willy and the Poor Boys” album. It is another of Fogerty’s scathing rebukes of the Vietnam War with veiled warnings of a revolution (against the Nixon government) to come. Jay Farrar’s distorted guitar and Jeff Tweedy’s thumping bass lines fuel a version that steadily builds to an intense climax, though Fogerty’s eerie, double-tracked guitar solo can’t be matched. Going by various comments, it was clear Farrar and Tweedy believed the song was a call to protest against leaders in government unconcerned with the rights of citizens. Uncle Tupelo’s alt-rock treatment is just the right counterpoint to the original.

Number 1: ‘Fortunate Son’ in a tie (a draw for UK readers) between Todd Snider (“Peace Queer” EP 2008) and Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band (“Live Bullet” 1976)

John Fogerty was one of a handful of rockers who knew how to write an effective protest song. He wore flannel shirts and jeans and had a no-nonsense approach to social issues indicative of the traditional liberal. He had a disdain for writing love songs and those CCR recorded were typically covers like their massive hit, ‘I Heard it Through the Grapevine,’ which he tired of playing despite fans clamoring to hear it. ‘Fortunate Son’ (also on “Willy and the Poor Boys”) was Fogerty’s kind of song and another rife with misinterpretation by those eager to have another Vietnam War protest song in their arsenal. It was really more about the divide in social classes. America’s version of royalty was embedded in the power of government and big business, represented by the marriage of the offspring of two presidents, Julie Nixon and David Eisenhower. The full story of their union exists only to be derided as yet another conspiracy theory like the ones surrounding the assassination of President John F. Kennedy and the near-assassination of former President Donald J. Trump. The furtive tale is not easy to find. You may have better luck by trying a different search engine than Google Chrome. Look it up and decide for yourself.

Yes, a tie can be frustrating, but think of it as two singers harmonizing flawlessly, unsure of who sustained the final note longer. It just was impossible to decide between two completely different takes on ‘Fortunate Son.’ In Snider’s rambling remarks before playing the song on one of his livestreams, he said: “I started trying to make up a song about how somebody could be rich enough to have opinions about, say, a war, because if you could get out of the war because of your dad or whatever then you would but then you’d be really rallying for it. I don’t know anybody like that so I started trying to make that up. Like one time I had this idea for a song where the devil goes to Georgia to get a soul, and then I thought there’s already one like that. So, I said, well, you’re just doing ‘Fortunate Son’ and that’s it.”

It was Fogerty’s claim that most of the soldiers sent to Vietnam came from blue collar families, whereas those of draft age from wealthy families sat it out. It’s all in who you know and sometimes make campaign contributions to. The live version by Seger and the Silver Bullet Band was taken from a 1983 concert in Detroit. Before hitting the first notes that immediately identified the song, Seger told the cheering crowd: “This one is by a band I’ve always loved, called Creedence Clearwater Revival.”