Hold on, the site didnt post the whole interview. I will post the "second half" here.
On the cover of the advance CD of Blue Moon Swamp, you’re holding a Stratocaster, but at one time you had sort of an aversion to that model, didn’t you?
I now have an awesome amount of respect for Leo Fender, but at one time I identified Strats much too closely with surf music; although I love surf music now, at the time I tended to put sort of a “wimpy” adjective on it. Guys singing through their noses about a “little GTO” didn’t impress me back then, because I was more into Chicago blues. Now that I’m older, I like almost anything that’s done well, even surf music and instrumentals; I really enjoyed the interviews with the Ventures in your magazine. And I now think that Stratocasters and Telecasters are way cool.
Let’s talk about some of the instruments and songs on the new album. There’s a great-sounding steel guitar on “Southern Streamline.”
That comes from my learning how to play the dobro. When I say learn, I don’t mean I’m a master, like Jerry Douglas, who’s my idol. I was bitten by the dobro bug about four years ago; I’d get up at three o’clock in the morning to practice, and I tried to apply what I’d learned to a lap steel. I loved Western Swing and Hank Williams’ music, and I now know that it’s a 6th tuning that gives you all of those classic licks.
I needed a specific sound for “Southern Streamline” on this album, and I even went on the Internet, talking to people about steel, and I finally worked my way into “the inner sanctum of mystical tunings” (chuckles). There’s just not a lot of guys around playing like that these days; a lot of steel players are plugging into stomp boxes, trying to sound like Jeff Beck on a steel guitar.
That’s an old Oahu Tonemaster on “Southern Streamline;” it’s got rope binding and is the coolest one for that tone.
The guitar break riff on “Hot Rod Heart” is reminiscent of “California Sun,” which is a great “cruising song” itself, in my opinion. Could there have been any subliminal inspiration involved?
I don’t really think so, but it was pointed out to me later that the notes on my solo are similar to the melody of “California Sun.” Coincidentally, the Rivieras are from the South Bend, Indiana, which is where my wife is from. I think both songs have kind of a pretty, “open” melody.
Isn’t that the Fairfield Four on “A Hundred and Ten in the Shade”?
You betcha!
How’d you hook up with them?
As a matter of fact, I’d gotten to be this old and hadn’t heard of them, and I’m sort of ashamed to admit that. On two separate occasions, I was talking with other players about cool singing groups; one time it was with Jerry Douglas, the other time with Bob Glaub, my bass player. And both of them brought up the Fairfield Four, so that told me that I’d better check them out.
When the sound of that song came to me, it was the reason I took up the dobro. Bluegrass dobro can be very pretty, and I knew I wanted that sound instead of a Delta blues, National steel-body sound. But I also think that song is way better than me (chuckles).
How did you manage to get a dobro and a Farfisa organ on one tune, “Bring It Down to Jelly Roll?” The organ reminded me of the Swingin’ Medallions!
That’s me playing that thing, and that’s all of my keyboard chops; I just let it all hang out (laughs). I knew for two years I wanted to do a song like “Mendocino” or “96 Tears.” That may indeed be the first time the two instruments you cited have been on one song; it might make a good trivia question!
The first single is “Walking In A Hurricane.” Was there any particular vibe you were going for?
Just loud, “almost-sinister” rock and roll; something that would hopefully get someone’s attention the first time it was heard, like “Satisfaction” did. “Satisfaction” has been heard so many times that it’s now a clich?, but the first time you heard it, it was pretty awe-inspiring.
The song has what I might call “a mild amount of distortion” on it, like “Satisfaction” did.
Yeah, but I’ve heard that a certain category of radio programmers wanted to clip off the front part, because of certain sensitive adult ears (chuckles). I used a great old ’52 Les Paul that’s been converted with PAFs on that song; there’s nothing else that sounds like that.
You used a tremolo effect on songs like “Blueboy;” ZZ Top used that effect on their latest album.
Right; Rhythmeen. It’s still one of the coolest effects ever. That’s my Danelectro, and a ’62 brown Concert amp. Some of the Concert amps sound different; the “Vibrato” circuitry is different in a ’60, compared to a ’62. But we all know Fender’s “Vibrato” circuit is really a tremolo effect.
As for slide guitars on this album, did you use any particular guitars and/or tunings?
The only sliding I did was on the kind of instrument that you put on your lap; no Spanish electrics. “Rattlesnake Highway” has a slide part that almost sounds like a weird sitar.
Speaking of sitars, “Rambunctious Boy” has an electric sitar and a mandolin on it; another odd combination that works.
The mandolin is a 1923 or ’24 A model, but it’s not a Lloyd Loar. I picked up several instruments in North Carolina a while back; a few guitars and that mandolin. That song has the full extent of my mandolin abilities; I’m not a good mandolin player at all.
That’s a Jerry Jones sitar on “Rambunctious Boy,” but there’s actually an old Coral sitar on “Rattlesnake Highway” that’s somewhat subtle; you can almost smell the patchouli oil on it (chuckles). Those instruments have got great necks; you can play the heck out of them! I played one in a studio for a couple of days, and found that a little of that sound would go a long way.
“Joy of My Life” is a bit of a rarity for you, in that it’s a romantic song, but it’s still sort of a no-frills song with a dobro.
Well, some big Hollywood producer might say: “It’s bee-yooty-ful,” but his idea of “bee-yooty-ful” would probably be a whole bunch of keyboards, a chorus, a string orchestra, a huge drum sound, and arena echo, which would make almost any song sound really pompous.
Mantovani-ish?
Yeah, syrupy. But I think beautiful is simple and elegant, like a ballad with simple harmony. I wrote that song for my wife, and it’s what some guy who’s sitting under a tree would be singing to the woman of his life, telling her how wonderful she is. To me, that’s more lasting than something that sounds like it belongs on a movie soundtrack.
“Blue Moon Nights” has such a Sun Studio feel that it’s obvious that you went to Memphis while you were on those Mississippi pilgrimages.
Well, I go way back with that influence. I started going to Memphis in 1968; I met Knox Phillips, Sam’s son, and we talked about things like slap-back echo. I’ve since gotten to know Sam pretty well; Sam knows that I’m a big fan of his. The word “genius” gets used too much in the music business, but Sam Phillips certainly qualifies as one.
You’ve been using and collecting older instruments for quite some time; is there anything you’re still seeking?
I’m still looking for a good 6120. I have a Duo-Jet with DeArmonds, which is the way I like them; before the Filter ‘Trons. A ’57 6120 is the ultimate rockabilly guitar.
What are your tour plans to support Blue Moon Swamp?
We’ll be starting off with clubs and other smaller venues, including the House of Blues here in L.A., and the old Fillmore in San Francisco. The idea is to keep it small and work up to larger places; I think I’ve got a lot of explaining to do (laughs). For a time, people knew I wasn’t playing the older, so-called “Creedence songs,” but I am now. Those are my songs, though, so it’s almost like I’m atoning or doing some kind of penance.
I think you showed a lot of class by finally opting to renew the live performance of those songs at the “Welcome Home” Vietnam veterans benefit.
Well, thank you. That made a lot of guys feel pretty good, and it made me feel pretty good, too. I’m now comfortable playing a lot of the old songs, and I’ve gotten out a lot of the old equipment. But I think the new material from Blue Moon Swamp will show that I was taking my time to get it right; maybe if I show those songs off the right way, somebody will say (affects a Southern drawl) “It sounds like you been practicin’, boy” (laughs)!
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It’s probably not inappropriate to opine that John Fogerty writes, sings, and plays “quintessential American music.” His compositions are permanent fixtures on the American music scene, because their simple melodies and lyrics are identifiable to the average person. Fogerty’s material is as “comfortable” to music fans as the flannel shirts he favors. For all of his decades of success, Fogerty still knows how to write memorable songs, and Blue Moon Swamp should simply reaffirm such.
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