I almost want to say, "what happened", but…OK, I am going to say it, although, there were signs of this in the cards, from the last couple of albums. Tight Shoes is the first Foghat record that shows serious slippage in quality and sheer entertainment value. But then again, these guys had been at it for a while, and this being their 9th record in a row, one could not expect the good times to keep rolling. People might peek the date, listen to the album, and claim New Wave was to blame, but I do not think that was the issue here. The big problem is, the fire and passion has left Foghat, and what you hear is a bunch of guys going through the motions of making another record, reaching for something and attempting to stay fresh, but coming up a bit short. Probably the first indicator is the songwriting - all of it from Dave Peverett, when in the past albums consisted many Dave and Rod Price collabs, and a few interesting covers. Second, everything is in the same coked-out 80's rocker tone that is somewhere between hair metal and generic barroom blues. Third and maybe most important, the rushed feel of each and every song, as if everyone wanted to cut the record as fast as possible, because the simple act of being in the studio together was a chore. One thing I will say is, the anguish and desperation of the material matches the strung-out tone of the music itself, which does make this album a fairly nice candidate for a listening companion if you find yourself in a similar state of mind. Incidentally, this would the last Foghat album which Rod Price would play guitar on, until the mid-90's.

Foghat busted free from their Savoy Brown chains and promptly released an album which was not too stylistically different than their former crew, but in many places, more personable. That said, other than a few tracks, we are a long ways from the group's mid-70's heyday, and if you really want to split hairs, it's only the lead-off cover of "I Just Want to Make Love to You" which really sets them apart from the competition. But, if you want to just have one something to set you apart, then this is it, because Peverett, Price, and crew push it to the limit and then some, putting some real butt-kicking, proto-metal energy into Muddy's earlier blues classic. The flipside of this, is quite the arty, atmospheric cover of "Gotta Get to Know You", brought to a different kind of life thanks to weird keyboards, Mellotron, and other studio tricks you wouldn't normally hear from these supposedly rednecky Foghat dudes. In between, they veer between average down-in-the-dumps drinking songs ("Trouble, Trouble", "A Hole to Hide In"), Lonesome Dave's heartfelt ruminations on love ("Sarah Lee"), road tunes ("Highway"), and more covers ("Maybelline"), which would be typical band fare for albums to come. It's just that they would make this stuff sound more relevant on subsequent efforts. For now, a decent, if somewhat tenuous (in spots) debut, boosted by the awesome bookend tunes.

So, this album is known far and wide as the breakthrough for Foghat, because it's the one which contains "Slow Ride". The one which contains the cover picturing Roger Earl with his fishing line in an open manhole cover. The one where the band totally went over to the pop-blues side of the fence, and forsook their blues-rock masters. And you know what? It's a damn fine album, anyway. Fool for the City is a raunchy party album, to the extreme. The title track kicks things off in classic Lonesome Dave style, with a dopey, yet personable tale about a dude who prefers the action of the city to boring country life. And the music feels like a bunch of loud, screeching hot rods on dark pavement, leaving tire tracks. The insanity continues with "My Babe", the sing-along old Righteous Brothers cover which Humble Pie formerly mixed into their version of "Rollin' Stone". Here, it's just another excuse to party and head bang to Price's slide licks. Up next, is the main course - the full enchilada of "Slow Ride", which runs for over eight minutes - not the shortened version most people hear on the radio. Essentially, the band breaks it down into two sections - the easy-struttin' initial half, which has massive, sleazy strip-club overtones - and the furious, race-to-the-finish second part, which builds and builds until a final, ultimate climax. Definitely, "Slow Ride" is something which could have been only been made in either the 70's, or maybe the 80's, and it is an all-time sleaze-rock classic. The rest of the album, incidentally, is a gradual comedown from that raunchy high. They throw in another, brutish cover ("Terraplane Blues", given over to more slide guitar and dominance from Earl's thunderous drum kit), a more playful toss in the hay ("Save Your Loving For Me"), getting back to bar-room basics ("Drive Me Home"), before rounding off on quite the subdued note (the soft-rock ballad "Take it or Leave it"). Again, the main thing here is how pop and out front this album is, compared to the ones that came before it. And it works pretty well, even though it is short, both in amount of songs and in run-time.

Canned Heat's second LP of `68 is an expansive affair, reflecting the excessive spirit of the times. The sheer amount of content is what matters here, especially towards the end with the experimental "Parthenogenesis" collection followed by TWO - yes, two - twenty minute live versions of the "Refried Boogie", complete with extended solos from all instruments. This also includes the band's other big hit "Going Up the Country" which became the unofficial theme of Woodstock. But with the emphasis on lengthy jams it may not be a good idea to make this your first Canned Heat album to listen to.

What should have been just a fun throwback-style comedy turns into an unnecessarily overcomplicated train wreck that never quite gets untangled.