CANNED HEAT: BOOGIE WITH CANNED HEAT (1968)
1) Evil Woman; 2) My Crime; 3)
On The Road Again; 4) World In A Jug; 5) Turpentine Moan; 6) Whiskey Headed
Woman No. 2; 7) Amphetamine Annie; 8) An Owl Song; 9) Marie Laveau; 10) Fried
Hockey Boogie.
Unlike Ten Years After or Fleetwood Mac, or
even their American predecessors, the Butterfield Blues Band, Canned Heat were
unable — or unwilling — to properly cross the line from imitation to
originality. But at least they got tougher, and, second time around, the music has
enough power, menace, and mystique to hold the listener's attention. Songwriting
is pretty much non-existent — just about anything that is not properly credited
to somebody else is still based on classic blues patterns. Thus, ʽMy Crimeʼ is really
ʽHoochie Coochie Manʼ; ʽAmphetamine Annieʼ is ʽThe Hunterʼ; and ʽTurpentine
Moanʼ is something by Elmore James that is not quite ʽDust My Broomʼ, but close.
These things do not bother the big boys one bit, as they diligently supply
their own lyrics, and by doing that, loyally imitate the behaviour of their own
Afro-American idols, so to hell with anachronistic copyright prejudices.
The good news: the sound gets real fat. Thick, distorted basslines, gritty
distorted guitars, and an uneasy premonition in the air — this is the coalesced
Canned Heat, and they're ready to do it right this time. Actually, they are so
smart now they don't even need to get
all that heavy to generate uneasy premonition — cue the band's first big hit,
ʽOn The Road Againʼ, where they take the standard John Lee Hooker ʽBoogie
Chillenʼ line and use it as the foundation for a truly hypnotic groove —
there's something about that combination of monotonous bass, trebly E/G/A
guitar riff, soft, «lulling» harmonica, Wilson's trembling, childish falsetto,
and buzzing tambura in the background for extra psychedelic effect. Each
single ingredient is simple as heck, but together they create a truly sinister
sonic mix, as if old man Hooker were caught up in a real bad trip.
That said, normally
the band goes for a heavier sound, and if you really want to catch them at the
peak of their game, head straight for the last two tracks — the instrumental
12-bar blues ʽMarie Laveauʼ, five minutes of grinning distorted soloing from
Vestine with Dr. John lending a major hand on the piano and throwing on some
New Orleanian brass for support; and then the lengthy jam ʽFried Hockey
Boogieʼ, which gives you even more of the ʽBoogie Chillenʼ riff, this time under
a real heavy sauce, and then goes on to showcase the individual talents of the
players with funny introductions from The Bear. Nothing too special, no, but
there's something untangibly tasteful about the way they kick your ass all over
the place with this stuff.
Surprisingly, I find myself enamored with the
band's lengthy jams more than I find
myself appreciating their shorter songs. With the exception of the haunting
trance of ʽOn The Road Againʼ, and the acceptable humor of ʽAmphetamine Annieʼ
("this is a song with a MESSAGE!", The Bear announces at the
beginning, and yes, the message is that "SPEED KILLS!", says lead
singer in a band where two principal members would die from overdosing, including
himself), every other non-jam tune is just okay: Larry Weiss' ʽEvil Womanʼ, for
instance, would be very soon available in a ripping monster version from Spooky
Tooth that would completely obliterate the Canned Heat cover, and then there's
a bunch of other blues-rock tunes that come around, sound nice, and go away
without regrets.
But the jams — oh boy, the jams, and it's all
about the combinations: Vestine's sizzling guitar tone works delightfully well
together with Dr. John's piano on ʽMarie Laveauʼ, and before there ever was ZZ
Top, Larry Taylor and Alan Wilson were doing the ʽBoogie Chillen / La Grangeʼ
groove with as much passion and verve as any Texan for miles around. They just
seem to find that perfect balance between «letting their hair down», not being
afraid of feedback, volume, and (occasionally) primal chaos, but at the same
time also caring about sheer professionalism and musicality — this makes their jams
more rock-'n'-roll-style-exciting than those of their psychedelic
contemporaries, but also more intelligent and restrained than the Blue Cheer /
Vanilla Fudge / Cactus-style heavy bands. Only thing I can say is that having
John Lee Hooker among your top influences really helps with the vibe (and I'm
sure Billy Gibbons would agree as well) — oh yes, and even despite its more
boring moments, the album still gets an enthusiastic thumbs up.
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