Years before Bob Seger became a mega-star whose voice is inextricably tied to Chevrolet trucks and gag-inducing images of Tom Cruise dancing in his underwear, he was a punkish Michigan rocker that did proud by that state’s hard rock heritage. But he’s never seemed particularly fond of his early garage rock days. His recordings with the System and The Last Heard haven’t been available in authorized versions for decades. His career-spanning cd release of last year doesn’t contain anything recorded by either band. It’s as though Seger has chosen to let that part of his past fade from memory. In my opinion his output between the mid-60s and early 70s was his finest, but good luck finding any of it on Seger-sanctioned pressings. With the exception of Smokin’ O.P.‘s and the woefully incomplete and poorly put together Early Seger Vol. 1, Seger’s badass best is is only available as bootlegs or expensive out-of-print rarities.

I saw Seger with the Silver Bullet Band in the mid-70s in a club in Boulder, Colorado. He put on an absolutely ferocious show that rocked HARD. No frills, no bullshit, just good ol’ rock n’ roll distilled to its essence. This was at a time when my own musical tastes were shifting toward punk and I found Seger, in his uncontrived way, to be as raw and tough as some of the new stuff coming from The Clash and The Ramones. I think my buddy Jello Biafra (in his pre-Jello days) was at the show with me and concurred that Seger was the real deal.

In 1976 Seger released the last album that I felt any particular connection to, Night Moves. And that was only because of the title tune, which still poetically evokes a teenage wet dream of cars and girls that I can relate to.

Yes, Seger was cool once upon a time. It’s ironic that the man who wrote “Rock And Roll Never Forgets” seems to have forgotten a big chunk of his own rock and roll past.

Seger, like a rock…er.