Canned Heat
The New Age

If for "Historical Figures And Ancient Heads" Canned Heat put themselves in the hands of Joel Scott Hill, for this "The New Age" the Californian "non-band" (or "no-longer-band") turns to a craftsman named James Shane, and they also trust him for vocals and songwriting. The collective brings to the table, in addition to the indestructible The Bear, a constantly present Sunflower Vestine in the lineup and a surprise card: the authorship of Richard J. Hite, the Bear's brother, never really a member of the band, but always and anyway one of the family. One of those typical satellite elements, that orbit around your combo, and then, for the good they do and you want them to do, you end up crediting them in the studio, then in concert, then in meetings when putting ideas in black and white, and finally, almost without noticing, into the actual lineup.
Six out of nine tracks are original, zero the number composed by the "real" members of the band, and among those six there's an equal split between brother Hite and James Shane. Although almost all original material, once again the parameter of the band's approach to songwriting is missing, in my opinion, too large a band not to have truly tried it with their own hands, especially if they use blues to, in the end, reach the ears of the youth of their time, lovers of not only blues, but especially hard rock, roots, and psychedelia. And in need of new idols.
"The New Age" presents itself as a compact, fun album, with more than respectable tracks. Richard Hite makes his brother sing, and proves to be a good rock-with-flowers songwriter in "Keep It Clean" and in the boogie "Rock & Roll Music," while skillfully blending country and blues in "Don't Deceive Me." James Shane, on his part, plays around with the funny "Harley Davidson Blues," plays piano and organ in the gospel "Lookin' For My Rainbow," and goes wild in the concluding "So Long Wrong," an almost funky rock to be handled with care. His voice is superior, fleshier, than that of Scott Hill, which makes it all less nostalgic of Blind Owl Wilson, rest his soul, providing more vital energy rather than regrets. He then strictly keeps in line to, in the gospel track, let Clara Ward explode, to whose memory the album is dedicated, along with her choir. If we put aside the historical relics "Election Blues," one of those very tired piano tracks, and "You Can Run, But You Sure Can't Hide," which here becomes a kind of waltz for tuba bass and guitars doing one-two-three one-two-three, the mention goes to the aforementioned "So Long Wrong," which with a more invigorated arrangement would have certainly blown my mind, in which Shane and Sunflower pull out two beautiful solos. Also notable is the spectacular "Framed," branded Lieber & Stoller, a blues rock with very diluted temporal gaps between riffs, perhaps too diluted, and that’s the beauty of it. In those endless silences, The Bear does whatever he wants, even perhaps reciting by hitting a couple of notes every now and then... It all makes me think of when it was said, decades ago, that rap was born from the blues. And I even remember that I couldn’t imagine such a thing.
A far from indispensable album, this "The New Age," like many others in the Canned Heat's history following Blind Owl's "Hippie Ending," but decent, compact, and if you find it forgotten in some remote corner of the world, it will be worth every cent of the three euros and twenty-nine it will cost to have it.
One of those albums from a typical band that, seeing success and their magical moment slip away, rather than reinventing itself or breaking up, rather than dying to be reborn, prefers to age. Maybe because the cards to play, in the end, were few, or maybe because the blues is too vast and labyrinthine a world to not get lost, to find the exit once you've set foot in it. Or maybe because the only thing that interested Canned Heat (whoever they were) was the boogie, was the blues. After all, by insisting on not forgetting the boogie, how could they have abandoned it themselves?