Plenty of ink, virtual and corporeal, has been spilled supporting and castigating the awarding of the Nobel Prize for Literature to rock legend Robert Zimmerman, aka Bob Dylan. However, if the world of rocknroll had a Nobel Peace Prize, the man some people call Zimmy just might have earned it in early 1987 - two years before the resurrection of his career. To tell the tale we have* to start at the beginning.
In the late 1950s three young men met at Portola High School in the Bay Area suburb of El Cerrito, California. Stu Cook, Doug Clifford and John Fogerty quickly bonded over their shared love for music, particularly the blues and other sounds born deep in the South, and formed a band called the Blue Velvets[1][1], now a foursome with the addition of Fogerty's older brother Tom.
By 1964 the band was signed to the Fantasy Records label under the truly horrible name of the Golliwogs. Golliwog was a character from turn of the century children's books, and you can google him yourself cause I ain't sullying my page with that racist manure [2]. The band didn't really go anywhere commercially, but musically this was an important period. Stu Cook switched from piano to bass guitar, and older brother Tom proved he was the bigger man and gave up the frontman duties to his kid brother, saying "I could sing, but John had a SOUND."
The Golliwogs / Tell Me
In 1966 the band practically dissolved as Fogerty and Clifford were drafted and posted to reserve bases. A year later, though, the label was sold. The new owner, Saul Zaentz (the producer of Ralph Bakshi's animated Lord of the Rings, incidentally, and a three-time Academy Award winner as a producer) offered to produce the band a full-length album, provided they change the disgusting name. The guys were like "that's your condition? That's our condition!" and the deal was gladly made.
[1] http://www.45cat.com/artist/tommy-fogerty-and-the-blue-velvets
[2] At 
*Fine, we don't HAVE to, but I'M TELLING THE STORY!
REVIVAL
The reborn band needed a new name, and in place of the ugly old name the guys picked a quirky one, with separate explanations for each of the three words making it up:
Creedence was after a friend of theirs, one Credence Newball, Esq. The spelling changed to imply faith in the renewed endeavor.
"Clearwater" was after an Olympia Beer commercial they found funny, promising, well... clear water.
"Revival", again, to mark the band's rebirth. [3]
The whole package had the effect of implying a popular movement of faith, and smelled heavily of the south, which was the desired effect as it matched the band's artistic inspirations.
As was customary in the business at the time, their eponymous maiden album (1968) was powered by tried-and-true covers, although five of the eight tracks were originals, four written by Fogerty and one (Walk on the Water) by the Fogerty brothers - their only shared credit. The hits were Wilson Pickett's "Ninety-Nine And A Half (Won't Do)", Screaming Jay Hawkins's "I Put A Spell On You" and, climbing as high as #11 on the Billboard chart, "Suzie Q" [4], first released as a rockabilly hit by Dale Hawkins 11 years earlier. None of the originals on the album became hits, although track #2, "The Working Man", foreshadowed mega future hits like "Fortunate Son" with its underclass rage.
In between the release of the first album and its modest success and their second, the four California dudes perfected a musical identity rooted deep in the South. Their deep understanding of the genre made it work, and "Bayou Country" (1969), sounding like it was made by born and bred 'ouisiana swamp boys, took the country by storm, with the massive original hits "Proud Mary"
and "Born on the Bayou".
Bayou Country, along with the follow-up album Green River (the title track, "Bad Moon Rising" and "Lodi"), made CCR the hottest band in the land.
CCR registered massive hits with both Fogerty's scorching originals and covers like "I Heard It Through The Grapevine", which the band released a daring, magnificent 11-minute version of. Marvin Gaye's version may be the golden standard, but this is amazing too:
[3] http://teamrock.com/feature/2014-08-22/nine-obscure-creedence-facts
[4] Fong-Torres, Ben (April 5, 1969). "Creedence C'water At the Hop". Rolling Stone (30). p. 9.
INSUFFERABLE FELLA
But even at this artistic and commercial high point (the hits kept on coming on the next albums too), the cracks began to show. Part of it was the shock so many successful acts get when they realize how little of the pie that first contract they eagerly signed entitles them to. But mostly it was the simple fact that John Fogerty, Goddess bless his copious talents, is a pretty damn insufferable fella.
Not many people realize these days that CCR was one of the major headliners at Woodstock. Why do they not realize this? Because Mr. Fogerty, being a huge swinging dick, decided that their set at the 3-day Festival of Music and Love wasn't up to par, and so he vetoed its inclusion on the Woodstock album and movie soundtrack. Judge for yourself:
That wasn't the only thing he bitched about at Woodstock. According to the maestro, the band that preceded CCR onstage, The Grateful Dead, "put the crowd to sleep", and the whole scene was "something out of Dante". [5] Once again, Mr. Fogerty's reality check is off, at least musically. Dead were fine at Woodstock as well:
[5] http://news.radio.com/2015/10/21/john-fogerty-woodstock/
JOHN FOGERTY AND THE HANGERS-ON?
As the 60s ended and the 70s rolled in, John began to resent his bandmates' share of his success - to say nothing of those thieves from the label. He was writing all the hits, singing all the hits, playing lead guitar on all the hits, doing ALL the mixing (alone, cause the others annoyed him with their opinions so he threw them out)... these guys, he figured, were pretty much just along for the ride on John Fogerty's amazing talent show.
All the success in the world can't make life with a guy like that tennable. in 1971 brother Tom figures he may have to tolerate John at Thanksgiving but not at work, and quits the band. Although rhythm guitarists are easily replaced, in 1972, after 7 LPs as CCR, six of which went platinum, the band broke up. Fogerty, being a drama queen, vows never again to perform or record the band's songs, so that none of his friends or (God forbid) the label will earn any royalties from it. Meanwhile, his greatest hit ever, Proud Mary, is covered by Sister Anna Mae Bullock (Ms. Tina Turner to you); and because she's Ms. Tina and rocked the fuck outta the tune, it becomes associated with her.
(You can skip to 2:30 if you're not into Tina's hella possessive intro LOL. She does the deed, though.)
John continues to tour and record and live very comfortably on the CCR royalties which prove amazingly durable, but he never recaptures the success heights of Creedence. Hmmm, maybe those freeloaders brought something to the table after all.
15 LONG YEARS
Fast-forward 15 years. The time is February 1987. The place is the now-defunct Palomino Club in North Hollywood, Los Angeles. Onstage is the genius Taj Mahal and his Grafitti Band. But while a Taj show is always a privilege and a delight, what makes this night different than all other nights** is the three guys hanging out backstage, waiting to be invited to jam with Taj and the band. They are Robert Allen Zimmerman, George Harrison, and John Cameron Fogerty.
So these three legends are hanging backstage, talmbout what they're gonna play. Dylan goes: "Hey John, Why doncha play Proud Mary?"
John: (gives a "Cmon, Bobby, You know I don't..." look)
Bob: "Ya know, John, if you don't play the damn song from time to time, folks're gonna think Tina wrote it."
And that, boys and girls, is how Bob Dylan broke the stupidest fucking boycott and feud in rock [6], and (after Fogerty and the guys toyed with the crowd with an Elvis rendition first. Skip to 2:39 for the relevant bit) gave us this delightful little nugget:
Maybe the best part, as the last note fades away, is John going "Tina eat your heart out." :-)
This has been a taste of rock heritage. Hope you enjoyed.
[6] Ed. to add: Not completely. John, being a huge friggin' dick as we've mentioned, refused to play with his bandmates at CCR's induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1993. Some things are beyond even the powers of the Bob.
** You didn't think a yid would letcha go without a Passover reference this time of year, didja?