Crucial to every album by Creedence Clearwater Revival is the promise of one hit song. It felt like an unmentioned standard that each of their records would feature one song that still defines the band. Pendulum is no exception, though it takes a dive when it comes to overall quality. What the John Fogerty-led outfit had offered in the past was a lit piece of dynamite that blew the rest of the songs into a higher place. Pairing Fortunate Son with the rest of Willy and the Poor Boys, for instance, elevates the material through that ferocious style. The same occurs for Pendulum, but with the inverse at the core of Have You Ever Seen the Rain. You can hear the band falling apart on Pendulum, an album which would’ve marked a perfect end to the group. Tom Fogerty would leave after this release, and the rest of Creedence Clearwater Revival would prove they weren’t much without his oversight. Pendulum is the last real gasp of quality from the band, though it’s still short in places.
Opener Pagan Baby highlights that lacklustre tone immediately. A strong song all the same, but it sounds like a pastiche of the swamp rock sub-genre style the band had so often relied on. Big brown eyes and a guitar riff that sounds as though it’s filled with rage towards the band, not the subject or the possible aggressor against the subject. On and on it goes, Fogerty throwing in a subdued scream as the guitar solo grinds along, never offering much respite or thrill. It’s a tame occurrence, one of many to feature on Pendulum. Internal conflict begins to show itself early, and it never relents. Sometimes, like on Sailor’s Lament and much of the B-side, that internal trouble capsizes the point of the song. Both Sailor’s Lament and Chameleon show there are signs of change within the band that would, ultimately, be irreversible. The latter track at least features a few snide knocks at Fogerty’s bandmates and some credible brass.
Bracing for Have You Ever Seen the Rain is all you can do in those muddled, early moments of Pendulum. But it’s dropped into the dying days of the A-side, and follow-up (Wish I Could) Hideaway is strong, too. That consistency carries over to the B-side, but it’s lost on Hey Tonight, which feels more like stagnant rock that any band of the time could make. Creedence Clearwater Revival could always pride themselves on a truly unique angle to their sound, either with the swamp rock roots or through the thrills of Fogerty’s writing, but he and the band crumble in the second half of Pendulum. That’s not to say there isn’t some nice work to be found in the latter stages of the album, but it does feel a bit scorched earth. No turning back for Fogerty and the band from here, you can hear the strain.
What had begun as a tension which added to the thrills and themes of the album begins to eat away at Pendulum. By the end of the record, they group sound exhausted and fed up of one another. It’s Just a Thought feels scrambled together, weary of what was to come next. It’s not the lyrics that bring on that sense of change, either, it just sounds surprisingly flat, especially when lined up with songs from the A-side or earlier in the band’s discography. Crucially, though, is the high bar set by Creedence Clearwater Revival. They just about coast under it because of these growing frustrations, but even being below their own par, they’re ahead of the rest in the moodier rock and roll genre. Pendulum is underwhelming by Creedence Clearwater Revival standards. That still overwhelms the bulk of rock and roll at the time, even with duds like Molina rounding out what would be Fogerty’s final time with the band.
