Click to see photos from John Fogerty's stop at the Mercy Lounge in September (this photo: George Walker IV/The Tennessean).
John Fogerty is back in Nashville this weekend, after receiving a lifetime achievement award from the Americana Music Association in September (and playing a "surprise" show at the Mercy Lounge), and when he leaves he’ll carry the place with him.
The Rock and Roll Hall of Famer performs Sunday, Nov. 22 at the Ryman Auditorium, and he travels with the inspiration of Music City guitar greats Chet Atkins and Duane Eddy, whose records thrilled him as a radio-listening California child. Fogerty also carries the influence of Nashville Dobro great Jerry Douglas, whom he calls “my favorite musician in the whole world, ever.”
And lately, the man who led Creedence Clearwater Revival to rock ’n’ roll heights in the late 1960s and early 1970s is also traveling with a bag of songs from his new The Blue Ridge Rangers Rides Again album, which features gems from Nashville writers John Prine and Phil Everly, as well as accompaniment from Tennessee aces Buddy Miller (guitar) and Dennis Crouch (bass).
Fogerty spoke with us about his life’s work and his Nashville ties in advance of the Ryman show.
This is the second Blue Ridge Rangers album, separated from the first by 26 years. On the first one, you covered country classics and played all the instruments yourself. How do you recall that one being received?
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I’m not sure what the outside world thought, but I decided that instead of making another rock record I wanted to go inside myself and expose my influences, and country music was such a huge influence. I decided to do a one-man-band thing partly because my band had broken up.
I thought making that record was the most loving, coolest thing I could do. I was baring my soul: “This is who I am, and this is what I love.” And I think some people heard it that didn’t know much about country music. My version of “Jambalaya” got played on the radio, right next to Stevie Wonder’s “Superstition.” And we were both playing all the instruments at one time. He did it better than I did.
Why was country such a formative part of your musical upbringing?
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The early rock guys all seemed kind of country: Elvis (Presley), Carl Perkins, Jerry Lee Lewis and Roy Orbison. And then I heard Mister Guitar, Chet Atkins, who was a huge example to me. I thought of him like an Olympic athlete — like maybe if you really practiced and dedicated yourself to being that good, you could do it. But anytime I tried to do any of the Chet stuff, it was so lame. You realize the practicing he must have done. I always felt guilty that I didn’t do that kind of practicing, but later in life I tried again.
Your Creedence Clearwater Revival records are filled with memorable, visceral guitar riffs. Did those just fall from your hands, or did you have to strain to find those parts?
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It did really seem that stuff was flowing out of me, that I was tuned into some esoteric radio station ... almost supernatural. But that wasn’t every song I wrote, just every song you heard. I wrote 10 songs for every one you heard, and I’d set it aside if it wasn’t good. Growing up, it seemed like the best records all had a cool guitar riff in them — Elvis, the Beatles, certainly Duane Eddy — so that’s what I was focusing on.
At first it’s an accident, and then one little thing catches your ear. Then the artistic part goes to work, and you work it out to where it makes you happy. I like stuff you can hang your hat on, like the stuff Buddy Miller plays. When he plays with an idea that you can remember, you can sing it. Also, I thought in terms of records and my band. I was commissioning myself to be able to make a record, and the riff was important in that. Still is.
Do you still sit and practice?
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I play for hours now, every day. From the late 1980s, I’d been practicing a lot, but I was only practicing something that I could play immediately. Like I’d practice the “Centerfield” lick, just so I could play it right. But somewhere around 1992, in the process of trying to make the record that became Blue Moon Swamp, I went to a guitar show in L.A. and saw a guy with a case. He opened it up and it was a Dobro.
I’d played a Dobro way, way back, since I met Tut Taylor when I was in Nashville to play on The Johnny Cash Show. I played a little Dobro part on “Lookin’ Out My Back Door.” I couldn’t really play, but I made a little part up. Seeing the Dobro there, it reconnected a heartstring to that other, funky place that’s been in me all my life, something more rootsy and about pure music. We bartered and I bought it, and eventually I started buying records and instruction things, and that’s where I crossed the path of Jerry Douglas.
Jerry Douglas is now my favorite musician in the whole world, ever. The same list that has the Beatles and Elvis and Otis Redding and Steve Cropper on it, Jerry is my favorite musician. I’m listening and trying to learn Dobro, and one day while listening to these great people Jerry has around him in his bands, it strikes me that there’s this amazing level of musicianship. A little searchlight in my brain found that molecule of when I was 14, thinking about Chet Atkins, promising myself I’d grow up and be a good guitar player. I thought, “I’m 48, and I didn’t do it. I’d better get really busy.”
So then I started practicing everything I could find, first on the Dobro and then back to guitar. I practiced scales, and positions I’d never cared about when I played rock ’n’ roll. I was atrocious, horrible, but I knew it was the path. I thought it might take me a couple of years. From 1998 it took until 2009. Being 48 and knowing it might take 17 years, I don’t know if I’d have done it. But I can be in a room now with Buddy Miller and not have to go, “Aw, shucks.” I don’t have to apologize.
Nashville was a big part of this, too. I lived here in 1999 and 2000, and I got the bright idea of getting lessons from some of the great players here. I was having some guitars worked on by (luthier) Joe Glaser, and Joe wound up calling people and saying, “I’ve got this guy who’s sincere and wants to learn, and his name is John Fogerty.” These guys let me come to their house, gave me lessons and let me videotape the lessons. Over the years I could look at the tape and learn how to practice and what to go for.
About 10 people took me under their wing. I shouldn’t say their names ... but one guy, Bill Hullett, is a great musician who became a great friend. There was a lot of hopeful inspiration from guys like that. You realize, some of it is God’s gift, but you’ve got to work at it.
IF YOU GO
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What: John Fogerty
When: 8 p.m. Sunday, Nov. 22
Where: Ryman Auditorium (116 Fifth Ave. N., 889-3060)
Tickets: $51.50-$67