LOS ANGELES, CA- My dad was born in 1958, back when Pontiac Firebirds and Ford Mustangs ruled the high school parking lots. His teenage years were filled with bands that still dominate the airwaves — with Creedence Clearwater Revival right at the center. They released three powerhouse albums in less than two years, played at Woodstock ’69, and developed an unmistakable sound. They became embedded in the culture.
For just a moment on July 5th, decades after CCR’s final show and long after courtroom battles had buried their catalog in red tape, I got to live and experience the ‘70s — and not just anywhere, but at the Hollywood Bowl, the crown jewel of Los Angeles venues.
CCR’s rise was fast. Their debut came out in 1968, and by the following year, they were one of the biggest bands in the country. Their music stood out for its authenticity and swampy grooves, driven by John Fogerty’s unmistakable voice and sharp songwriting. But it didn’t last — a bitter split and a mountain of legal trouble followed. For years, Fogerty didn’t even perform some of the band’s biggest hits. He didn’t own them. He didn’t feel like they were his anymore. That started to change thanks to his wife, Julie, who spent years fighting behind the scenes to get the publishing rights back. This new tour is his victory lap.
The show at the Bowl was part of a run celebrating Legacy: The Creedence Clearwater Revival Years (John’s Version) — a re-recorded album coming this August that’s rooted in reclamation and nostalgia.
Just before 8 p.m., a short video played on the massive screens above the stage. A documentary teaser. We saw clips of Fogerty with his sons in the studio, laying down guitar tracks, revisiting old tapes, laughing and experimenting. Home videos cut in and out. Family photos. Tour footage. Fogerty talked about how this project came together, how it felt to revisit the songs with fresh ears and with his family there in the room. His sons, Shane and Tyler, played on the record and now tour with him. His daughter Kelsy joined for a few songs, too. You could see how much it meant to him.
“This is a hometown show,” he said early in the night, grinning ear to ear. “The whole family’s here — except the dog.”
The band took the stage first, laying down the intro to “Bad Moon Rising,” and when John walked out, the place exploded. A standing ovation to him and his career. The cheers seemed to echo off the hills. It’s not often you get to hear a song like that performed by the guy who wrote it, decades later, in a venue as iconic as the Bowl. The crowd was singing every word — and continued to do so the entire set.
“Up Around the Bend” came next, followed by “Born on the Bayou,” where Shane stepped up for a blistering guitar solo. The interplay between John and his sons was a joy to watch. They tossed solos and riffs back and forth, grinning like they were playing in their garage and not in front of 17,000 people. Later, during “Keep On Chooglin’,” they pushed it even further. The whole band broke out into an extended jam: first a drum solo, then harmonica, then guitar layers building and building, until Kelsy ran out to join the final stretch of the song. The entire family filled the stage, somehow making the Bowl feel like a backyard jam.
There were stories, too. Fogerty reminisced about Woodstock and how he came home from the festival and wrote “Who’ll Stop the Rain.” He told us about his beloved Misono guitar — the one he played at Woodstock and on all the early hits — and how he gave it away to a kid in the ’70s, only for Julie to track it down decades later and return it to him. You could hear how much all of it still means to him. The music is his life.
And then there was “Luckiest Man Alive,” a love letter to Julie. As he sang, wedding photos and family moments played behind him. It was quiet and tender, yet just as powerful as the biggest rock moments of the night. I can only imagine how devoted to Julie he is, and this seemed like the best way to show his gratitude.
His band was stacked with talent. Each member got a proper introduction and their own moment to shine. The standout, for me, was Rob Stone on saxophone. His control, phrasing, and sheer power were next-level. He held notes longer than I thought humanly possible.
Of course, Fogerty’s guitar collection deserves its own shoutout. He wore a blue and black plaid shirt, and at one point pulled out a guitar with the exact same plaid pattern. Later, for “Centerfield,” he played a custom bat-shaped guitar so convincing I mistook it for an actual baseball bat at first. The Bowl’s lighting crew matched his energy with shifting reds, greens, and shimmering blues. During “Who’ll Stop the Rain,” the arches turned a stormy gray-blue, as if the sky itself was leaning in to listen.
As the main set closed, sparklers rained down onto the stage, and massive confetti cannons blanketed the audience. For the encore, he returned with “Travelin’ Band” and “Big Wheel Keep On Turnin’,” the whole family back in full force. Kelsy rejoined her brothers and dad for a final jam, while golden sparks rained down behind them. Before they played the last notes, John popped a bottle of champagne, set out party hats, and toasted the audience.
“Thanks for being here,” he said, raising his glass. “We got the songs back. And we’re celebrating 80!”
My dad helped shape my taste in music, introducing me to the bands he grew up loving. So to be standing at the Hollywood Bowl decades later, hearing some of those same songs live, felt surreal. And there’s something equally inspiring about seeing the man who wrote those songs finally reclaim them.
Follow John Fogerty on Facebook, X, and Instagram.
*********************
LIVE CLIPS
John Fogerty Reclaims His Creedence Legacy in Triumphant Hollywood Bowl Celebration
