Clapton is God. Dylan a prophet. Elvis the king. Fogerty, well, that makes Fogerty the all-knowing Rock ‘n’ Roll Jesus.
Rarely has a golden goose been killed as loudly, ceremoniously, or in such a way that it backfired on the very people who crept in to slaughter as when it happened to John Fogerty in 1972, 1975, or 1985. Fogerty is the undersung hero of classic rock, the man who could write so many hits in so few albums it’s a shock to most to learn that Creedence Clearwater Revival only had 6. An album like Cosmo’s Factory - an 11 song, 42-minute epic
so good it reads as a greatest hits compilation -
produced 5 charting hits, 4 of which were written solely by Fogerty himself. Fogerty, for a few short months in late 1969, was a songwriter so prolific he was rivialing the success of all the heavy-hitters of the 60s, gaining chart toppers while The Beatles, the Stones, and Dylan were all releasing what are now viewed as their classic releases. Fogerty was instrumental to the popularity of CCR and their rocket to insurmountable success, he was the songwriter, singer, lead guitarist, producer, and indisputable face of the band. He didn’t shun the group as a backing band, nor even really flaunt his talents, but his band began to turn on him. His brother, Tom Fogerty, left the group, and the rhythm section of Stu Cook and Doug Clifford had begun to wish for more creative control over the band. Fogerty allowed them to write their own songs for what would be the band’s last album, Mardi Gras, on the expectation they were to sing their own songs. Cook and Clifford agreed, and the album would produce only two “hits”, the Fogerty written tracks Sweet Hitch-Hiker and Someday Never Comes. After the issues with the album, the group would break up, with Fogerty opting to go solo in a Paul McCartney-esque one-man-band, something that wouldn't necessarily work as it should have. The albums produced by Fogerty through the 70s were ultimately flops, making it seem as if Fogerty fell off the wagon of undeniable success once he got too big for his head.
After a break in the late-70s and early 1980s, Fogerty came back with Centerfield. Many saw it as a return to form for Fogerty, with infectious ear-worms in his classic southern styling that perfectly captured the past while bringing him into the 1980s seamlessly. The hit, opener The Old Man Down the Road, was his first chart topper since the CCR days. The song sounded just like the his certain sound, the gritty, open sound of a country star who seemed to have only eyes for an electric guitar. One of the things that made CCR so fascinating was their ability to keep their very distinct sound while never having to sacrifice that for a hit, and it’s what worked so well with Old Man. Fogerty’s former boss, Fantasy records owner Saul Zaentz, thought that Fogerty’s “sudden” success was a reason to once more shoot down his plane, and ended up suing Fogerty not once, but twice over the album. The first lawsuit was over the hit, The Old Man Down The Road for how it allegedly sounded so similar to the CCR hit Run Through The Jungle, a song Zaentz not only owned the rights to, but a song that Fogerty had given up the rights to as reason to get out of his deals with Fantasy
records. Zaentz lawsuit was a copyright suit - one that said Fogerty had plagiarized himself. Stupid as it was, Fogerty had to go to court and argue that not only were the songs different, but that it can’t be a crime for a songwriter to have a certain style and sound they go for. Fogerty won the case, going all the way to Supreme Court to defend the verdict and standup for any other writers who could get into the same mess, defending the artist against record companies, a case he also won. He wasn’t as lucky with his other lawsuit, however, the defamation suit that Zaentz filed for Fogerty’s songs Mr. Greed and Vanz Kant Danz. One thing at least slightly important to note about John Fogerty is that he is an incredibly petty artist. When his band complained for more control, he had them write, record, produce, and play each part of the songs - refusing to help on anything but guitar. If they wanted to complain for control, they had to wear all the hats Fogerty did - something they complained about both before and after the lackluster final results. Even on his first solo album he credited The Blue Ridge Rangers, a band composed of only him (how you could argue CCR was). For a man who was in the process of being bigger than The Beatles while the The Beatles were at their creative peak, as well as one of the most important acts to book Woodstock before it became a cultural centerpiece, Fogerty wasn’t
as much of a hotshot as he could (and maybe should have) been. He was being greeted with
unimaginable success, able to make money doing what he loved while defending causes close to him, speaking as a mouthpiece for a generation that was behind significant change in their world. That, being the sole provider of that success for a group of people, then being asked if they can tweak your prized formula? You’d have to become hands-off, someone who wanted people to create their own mistakes and shortcomings to showcase how fucking good they really do have it. That, being proved to be right, and then leaving the band of people who so quickly were ready to throw you under the bus? Well, everyone’s entitled to be a bit of bitch here and there. What made the situation worse was the clipping of his wings, Fogerty being told he could only leave Fantasy if he signed over the rights of his CCR catalog to them, meaning that the work he had been making since he was 22 years old would suddenly be taken from him, a decision that he had to make in order to pursue creative freedom outside of Fantasy and Zaentz. By 1985, Fogerty was about as fed up as you’d expect a man whose intellectual property was being used as a pawn in a very fucked up game of mental chess. It was this that inspired the “diss” tracks against Zaentz on Centerfield, songs that would only become more realistic as he proceeded to be pummeled by lawsuits from the subject himself.
Mr. Greed was a straightforward fair about Fogerty’s unfiltered thoughts on the consumerist mindset that was beginning to dictate the decade: his answer to greed is good being You’re a devil of consumption, and I hope you choke. It shouldn't come as a surprise that such an outspoken and frankly political artist would take a stance like this, saying his feelings loud and proud on an issue he saw beginning to rot the minds of otherwise smart people. This was the same guy, never to be forgotten, who got a top 10 hit out of telling the government to shove it for trying to kill innocent children - yet another song that was to be mutilated and taken out of context for decades to come. Zaentz taking a song that critiqued the disgusting greed overtaking the music industry and world at large as a direct personal attack on him says quite a bit more about his own views of his actions than Fogerty’s intent: While the song was quite obviously written from a place of personal dissatisfaction with greedy overlords, it would only be taken as an attack by someone very aware that they are - in fact - a greedy overlord. The other “diss track” was a little more obvious: Zanz Kant Danz (Later changed to Vanz Kant Danz), a song about a pig who props up performers so he can steal money from the public. Vanz kant danz but he’ll steal your money / Watch him or he’ll rob you blind is a very obvious dig at Fogerty’s feelings towards Zaentz at the time, something that was not exactly hidden nor could be explained away as Zaentz having a rare moment of self-awareness. The issues would only continue for Fogerty, who saw his former bandmates (including his own brother) side with Zaentz on much of what he fought so hard against. Despite those issues, Centerfield cemented Fogerty two very large pieces of his legacy away from CCR: 1.) he was one of the best to ever do it, able to create classics years after everyone tried to write the narrative he was past his prime, and 2.) he was not going to let oppressive record companies continue to win over the artist. Before Fogerty, there was no comparison for an artist of his stature to be so stunted by the capitalistic tendencies of companies who aim to steal the intellectual property and art of others in an attempt to further their own profits. Fogerty stood up to these things, not fearing the lawsuits that were to be expected, taking them in stride as he used the power it gained him to defend the very rights artists still fight for to this day.
The video for Vanz Kant Danz
Put me in coach, I can be centerfield is the mission statement of much more than just the aspiring baseball player on the title track, but for Fogerty as the frontlines of the crusade against the sleazy record companies and their owners. Zaentz could own CCR songs all he wanted, take Fogerty to court every album cycle but he would never truly win in the eyes of the public: John Fogerty had always been for a voice of the people.
Centerfield was the blueprint of a comeback album of the late twentieth century, bidding farewell to the Kings ‘68 special and greeting the many Judas’ archetypes in Fogerty's path with a promise of a homerun.
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