Arguably out of gas a few albums ago, the Foghat camp soldiered on with this, essentially a covers record which is notable for its lack of presence just as much as Tight Shoes was. The 80's faux-modern production really works against the group now in a number of ways - the worst one being, the majority of the covers are in an old R&B vein, so the re-makes feel cheaper here. Also, I can't get over the feeling Peverett and crew were simply grinding this out to get it done. At least Tight Shoes had a certain feel of tense anguish going for it, and the previous album brought back a bit of the good times - this In The Mood hogwash does nothing in particular for anyone, sad to say.

Same feel carries over from the previous album, but it's a bit more fun and engaging. An actual bonafide American stepped in to replace Price in the lead/slide guitar role, Erik Cartwright, but I don't think he livens up the band to any extent. This is more like the albums which preceded Tight Shoes, where New Wave is an element that factors into the overall sound, but certainly, the material is not as strong as it once was. "Wide Boy" and "Live Now - Pay Later" are the definite picks, while album cuts like "Weekend Driver" and "Delayed Reaction" (which dabbles in reggae) tend to meander a bit. Another interesting development - longtime associate Nick Jameson rejoins on keyboards, contributing two tracks - including the raucous live cut "Sing About Love". This is a competent, fan-focused collection which might find interest from casual interlopers.

So, easy to pass over this album as yet another, run-of-the-mill, typical exercise, but there is a bit more going on here than meets the eye. There is a noticeable uptick in the intensity department - where this sprung from, I have no idea, but the ferocity of Price's leads and solos are amped to a new level, and much of the material is overflowing with venom and devilish sneers. The title track was easily one of the group's catchiest singles, and even has a slight New Wave tinge to it. The cover of "Sweet Home Chicago" may come off as somewhat predictable - blues-rock band covering a blues classic - but it is loud, raucous, and energetic. But the undeniable peak of the album are the next three tracks - the rip-fast "Easy Money" (this is like Foghat gone speed metal), the highly-intense "Midnight Madness", and the emotional-heavyweight "It Hurts Me Too" (an Elmore James cover). All three of these tracks are distinguished by Lonesome Dave's passionate vocals, Price's fiery guitar lines, and in the case of "Midnight Madness", an unparalleled change of mood mid-song. Which makes the next two songs even more mystifying, in how in the hell they could be the polar opposite of what I described above? "High on Love" relies on a dopey disco-like bass groove, drowns Price's guitar in horrid effects, and contains a bunch of dumb, inane lyrics about falling head over heels in love with some woman. The only redeeming quality of it, is the awesome Price solo that ends the song. Next, a cover of "Chevrolet", but done in this weird proto-rap/funk style, with handclaps and wah-wah funk guitars in the background. Uh…what? Where did this come from? Fortunately, they get back to brass tax on "Stay with Me", a nice, folk-pop style ballad which closes the album, properly showcasing the humble nature of these guys as it should be, through and through. Overall, a really good album which could have been one of their undeniable classics if not for the two aforementioned mishaps.

This is back in Rock and Roll Outlaws territory, with the majority of these seven tracks hitting at a mix of introspection and off-beat humor, but sound-wise it is kept at piledriver-force levels, carrying over from the previous album. Night Shift is known for an upbeat version of Al Green's "Take Me to the River" - which of course, would be rendered obsolete by David Byrne and the Talking Heads version, but them's the breaks - and the minor hit tune "Drivin' Wheel". But the real substance of the album lies in heavy, yet forlorn compositions like "Don't Run Me Down", and "Burnin' the Midnight Oil", where it is patently obvious Dave and the band has done a 180 turn from the party vibe of the previous record. Even more indicative of this is the closing piece "I'll Be Standing By", which is one of the better slow songs the band ever did.

This album is prime Foghat, and one of the unknown great rock albums of the mid-1970's. Something clicked with these guys - they got rid of dumb things they never needed, like backing vocals and horn arrangements, and went with their bread and butter - loud boogie rockers, slide guitar, and butt-loads of quirky personality in every nook and cranny of the material. The end result, in my mind, is a masterpiece of brains and guile disguised as brawn. Most people like to pooh-pooh it as any other Foghat record, but that is a big mistake. You can tell Lonesome Dave, Price, and the rest of the crew slung their heart, soul, and everything else into this one. Yes, the opening cover of "Eight Days on the Road" is yet another song about life on the road, but this time the band oozes hunger and desperation like never before. And it's the perfect setup for "Hate to See You Go", Dave's upbeat yet eternally forlorn goodbye to a lover he knows he can never truly be with, because of his lifestyle. "Dreamer" follows suit and ups the ante further, becoming possibly the band's most heart-wrenching tune, being played and sung from the perspective of a person whose dreams have all but shattered for one reason or another. Not even the gentle, sunny-feeling, acoustic ballad "Trouble My Way" shines much actual positive light on the situation, and one begins to think that what we have here is a full LP of Lonesome Dave and Price getting shit off their chest. But then, here comes the second half of the album, which is a reversal from the somber mood of the first half. The title track kicks things off here in more of a party mode, albeit with a slightly mystical vibe, as Dave hilariously presents himself as sort of a gypsy, guitar-playing character out to make love to as many women as possible. Apparently, the track was actually written by Felix Cavaliere of the Rascals. This leads directly into "Shirley Jean", an even more hilarious 50's-style tribute to a 17-year-old drugged-out groupie met in a bar. But wait, there's more - "Blue Spruce Woman" is a laugh-out-loud banger about a Neanderthal-style woman who comes out of the woods, into the city, to live with Dave and make love to him. What, and who writes this outrageous stuff? Foghat, that's who. But whereas other blooze-rock and arena-rock acts would have no qualms in victimizing such conquests, Lonesome Dave acts more like an aloof, observant bystander. In the case of "Shirley Jean", he's more interested in his wine from the bar, and in "Blue Spruce Woman", it's as if she comes and goes when she pleases and it is out of his control. "Chateau Lafitte '59 Boogie" finishes off the album appropriately by blasting away on a boogie-style rhythm for six-plus minutes, along with paying tribute to what I assume is Dave, or someone in the band's favorite vintage of wine. As you can imagine, I enjoy this album immensely, because it takes nothing seriously, but at the same time has enough wits about itself to take life as it comes. This is the attitude which attracted me to Foghat in the first place, and which keeps me listening to them after all of these years.