Published on Nov 29, 1999
If you’re either a diehard classic rock fan or you’re someone
who grew up at the time of the original Woodstock, Canned Heat will
be a name that you’ll probably remember. Led by Bob “Bear” Hite – a
man with a gigantic size and just as powerful of a voice – and Alan
Wilson, whose high-pitched vocals made the two big hits so
memorable, Canned Heat gained fame with songs like “Goin’ Up The
Country” and the Middle Eastern-tinged “On The Road Again”. They
also cemented their mark in history as a blues band with their
collaboration with John Lee Hooker,
Hooker ‘n’ Heat.
But history hasn’t been kind to Canned Heat. Wilson died under
suspicious circumstances in 1970; Hite succumbed to a heart attack
in 1981, and lead guitarist Henry Vestine died in 1997, just after
the completion of a tour. If all the tragedy wasn’t enough to bear,
most people have made Canned Heat one of the most forgotten bands
of the Woodstock era. (I’d put Quill above them in the list – and,
prior to VH1’s movie, Sweetwater would be at the top of the list as
well.)
Yet there are still some people like myself who long for the
glory days of this band, and continually hope that the group can
reclaim some stake in their past and remind people how important
they were at the time. Their latest effort,
Boogie 2000, tries to do this, but falters in the end, most
notably because they keep singing about the end of the century and
millenium. (Anyone ever think that everything Y2K-related will be
relegated to the storage shelves in February, right up there with
Tickle Me Elmo and the old, dusty Nintendo systems?)
The band has been fronted since 1995 by Robert Lucas, who
provides vocals, harmonica and slide guitar to the mix. Original
members Adolfo “Fito” De La Parra (drums) and Larry “The Mole”
Taylor (lead & rhythm guitars, vocals) keep the flame of the
band’s core alive, along with producer Skip Taylor. But if you pick
this disc up expecting to hear “Goin’ Up The Country” redux, you’re
in for a major disappointment – so much so that I actually put this
disc aside for about a month to let the memories of the old band
rest and to hear it with fresh ears.
It seemed to help a bit; songs like “Wait And See” (complete
with a flute intro that is guaranteed to make you think of Canned
Heat’s glory days) and “Last Man” are able to stand on their own
merits without invoking the ghosts of the past too often. “Last
Man” is the superior track, showing that the love of the blues that
has been the center of this band for over three decades is alive
and well. Other tracks like “Searchin’ For My Baby” and “I’m So
Tired” help to fuel the fire.
But there are too many cliches on
Boogie 2000 – and some of them, as mentioned before, center
around the upcoming milennium. (Not for me, chum – I subscribe to
the 1/1/2001 theory.) I mean, how serious are we supposed to take a
track named “2000 Reasons (Y2K Blues)”? Actual line from the song:
“What if it gets really bad, like they say it will / Hope you’ve
got extra water, and yout stomach is filled.” Give me a fuckin’
break.
Other songs, like “I Got Loaded,” “She Split” and “Too Much
Giddyup,” just don’t seem to be able to recapture the power and the
glory that I know this band is capable of, and settles into the
vein of atypical blues-rock that doesn’t aspire to do anything more
than fill the CD. Too bad.
It’s not that
Boogie 2000 is a bad disc; if anything, once you break free
from the idea that this is going to have the same groove as the
days of Hite and Wilson, some of the songs show themselves to be
quite worthy of the label Canned Heat. But the bulk of the disc is
like lighting one of those little cans you get with catered dishes
– it takes far too long for the heat to really build up.