At the Royal Albert Hall is good evidence that Creedence Clearwater Revival is one of the most powerful and underrated bands of the ’60s. The songs are basic literature (“Bad Moon Rising,” “Fortunate Son,” “Proud Mary”) and the style a bridge between the rush of Little Richard and the simplicity of punk. Neither showy (like Cream) nor experimental (like the Grateful Dead), they rip through their music with the modesty and discipline of the working-class people they obviously revered, taking no breaks for theater or other digressions of “art.” Sample banter: “Thank you. This’ll be our last song.”