Published on Jan 4, 2001
Anyone who experienced either Woodstock or the blues revival of
the ’60s must know Canned Heat. Whether it was the mountainous
stage presence of vocalist Bob “Bear” Hite, their collaboration
with John Lee Hooker (
Hooker ‘N Heat), their unique spin on 12-bar blues or their
two hits “Going Up The Country” and “On The Road Again,” Canned
Heat has sadly been overlooked by today’s music scene. (Never mind
the fact that the band is still slugging it out, despite losing
several members, including Hite, to the Grim Reaper.)
The Boogie House Tapes, a collection of studio and live
material from Canned Heat circa 1967 to 1976, is a nice selection
that show the listener just how influential this group was at their
time… but it also proves to be too much of a good thing.
In all honesty, this two-disc collection could have been pared
down to a single disc, and it would have been perfect. Admittedly,
the live versions of “Going Up The Country” and “On The Road Again”
pale in comparison to their studio brethren, but I’m willing to
grant them some slack just because fans of the band have reached a
comfort level with these two songs. The rest of the first disc,
however, just smokes.
What might sound like tossed-off numbers such as “Reefer Blues,”
“Harley Davidson Blues” and “Chicago Bound” (which features Magic
Dick from J. Geils Band on harmonica) actually seem to capture the
spirit of this band the best – namely, a group who took their blues
seriously but also knew how to have fun. This is also reflected in
“These boots are made for…” (a studio outtake which almost
becomes a running gag in just over a minute) and “Caterpillar
Crawl”.
The only criticism of this first disc? I’d have moved “Good Bye
For Now” to the end of the disc; it’s a bit awkward sticking it
smack dab in the middle.
The second half of
The Boogie House Tapes, in contrast, seems to drag on
endlessly, becoming lost amid bass guitar solos and blues jams that
just seem to go nowhere fast. Even the selection featuring Hite
talking to the audience is an awkward moment. Yet, there are times
on cuts like “Shaken Boogie,” “Sore Back Blues” and a cover of
Willie Dixon’s “Bring It On Home” that there are glimpses of the
magic that are so prevalent on the first disc.
Admittedly, this collection is one for the diehard Canned Heat
fan – though I could see the first disc attracting a lot of new
interest from the younger generation. As a whole,
The Boogie House Tapes has more moments of wonder than
woe… but it also shows that not everything in the vaults needs to
be released.