Bad Moon Rising and the 8-Track Sounds of Childhood

I can still conjure it—the family’s tobacco-brown Pontiac Bonneville, the smell of leather warm from the mid-day sun, dashboard gleaming with chrome, at that age when I was still small enough to straddle the transmission hump. I felt part of the whole ride—the road ahead, the hum of the engine mingling with the faint whisper of the air conditioner vents, and the music filling the car just right from that sweet spot in the back. Remember those humps? Felt like the middle of a tiny stage, and I was front-row for every song, heart thumping with the rhythm of the drive.

Growing up in south-central Louisiana in the ’70s, I was too small to remember the wreckage Hurricanes Hilda or Betsy left behind in the New Orleans area, but “Bad Moon Rising” on Creedence Clearwater Revival’s Green River 8-track conjured its own sense of drama. The “bad moon” always made me imagine werewolves prowling somewhere just out of sight, eyes gleaming through the shadows cast by the passing forest, while that unmistakable drum beat I couldn’t help but tap along with pressed through my fingers on the thick leather armrest. Music filled the car like a living thing, vibrating through the seats and dashboard, making the world beyond the Pontiac feel just a little more mysterious and alive.

Fast-forward to 2025, and John Fogerty revisits that old magic with “Bad Moon Rising-John’s Version,” part of Legacy: The Creedence Clearwater Revival Years. He just turned 80, and his voice has aged into something mellow, soulful, and just as groovy—softened edges but all the heart still beating through. Give it a listen here—if that bass line doesn’t move something inside you before it’s over, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle:

There’s something hauntingly Southern Gothic about the song—the lyrics swirl over the melody like moss dripping from cypress branches in a Louisiana bayou, heavy with the scent of wet earth after a sudden rain, thick shadows pooling along the water, and the quiet menace of a bad moon rising. Shapes and patterns seem to linger just beyond the bend, yet there’s a strange, irresistible pull in that dark beauty.

A little context for the song: it was released as the lead single from CCR’s Green River album, and John Fogerty has said it’s about the apocalypse that was going to be visited upon us. It climbed to number two on the US Billboard Hot 100 and topped the UK Singles Chart, and Rolling Stone later recognized it as one of the 500 greatest songs of all time, placing it at number 364 in 2010.

Old or new, “Bad Moon Rising” still makes me grin, nod my head, and remember those long drives in a Pontiac with the sun warming the dash, the hum of the engine vibrating through the leather, and the music wrapping around me like a secret companion. Some songs stick with you like a good memory; some never let go.

P.S. Someday I’ll tell you how a promotional 8-track that came with that Bonneville introduced me to Santana’s far-out psychedelic gem, “I Hope You’re Feeling Better.” Man, those were the days!