In the '60s, England was a hotspot for blues-oriented rock bands, not the least of which was Fleetwood Mac. Possibly overlooked over the passage of time was Savoy Brown - a band who had three members depart to form their own group.
If Foghat, the 1972 self-titled debut from "Lonesome" Dave Peverett and crew sounds like it owes more than a cursory tip of the hat to bands like Savoy Brown who paved the way for their own success, you'd be fairly accurate to come to that conclusion.
Does this effort break any new ground? No, not really. Is it fun to listen to? Yes, it is... proving that sometimes an album doesn't have to be especially innovative or forward-thinking. If the listener can tap their foot to it, smile and want to put it back on the turntable, then an artist or band has achieved success.
This disc is notable for the hit single (and lead-off track) "I Just Want To Make Love To You," an electrified take on the old Willie Dixon classic. It's caffeinated blues, to be certain, and is one of those tracks that classic rock radio has pummeled into submission over the years (along with "Slow Ride"... but that's another review for another day). But, hearing it in its natural element with the other eight tracks making up the album, it fits, and fits well, from Tony Stevens's thumping opening bass riff to the playful guitar antics of Peverett and lead guitarist Rod Price, it sets the mood quickly.
In fact, for the bulk of this disc, it sometimes feels like Peverett and crew can do no wrong. From their take on Savoy Brown's "Leavin' Again (Again)" to cuts like "Fool's Hall Of Fame" and "Sarah Lee," you'll find yourself wondering why songs like these didn't get the same amount of attention, especially in an era where DJ's pulled their own music and often selected deeper tracks from albums. It honestly feels like, for the first two-thirds of the album, you could toss a dart, and any track it landed on could have been a hit.
Things do stumble a bit with their cover of Chuck Berry's "Maybelline," a selection that can only be called misguided. It just doesn't sound or feel like this was a track that Foghat needed to put their own signature on - not because Berry's version is naturally a classic, but because it didn't need any further embellishments. They regain their footing a little bit with "A Hole To Hide In" and the disc's closer "Gotta Get To Know You," but the full-on momentum of the bulk of the disc had been broken.
Still, Foghat manages to go balls-to-the-wall for six - seven, if you count "A Hole To Hide In" - of the disc's tracks, which is an impressive feat for a debut effort. (I'm not ignoring the bulk of the band's history prior to forming Foghat; I'm well aware they had their feet solidly planted on musical ground. Still, any new band is a leap of faith.) What strikes me isn't the song every rock fan probably knows; it's the songs that only the diehard fans, or people who still listen to entire albums, would know. History shows that Foghat went on to a decent level of fame, especially in the '70s. One can only wonder if that fame would have come sooner, or have been bigger, had some of these tracks made it onto the airwaves and into the collective knowledge of radio listeners.
Foghat is an album that, in essence, cemented Peverett and crew's place at the blues-rock table, and dares to suggest they should have been seated further up. It's a disc that has more than its share of pleasant surprises, and they're still waiting to be re-discovered.