Posted on 05/03/2005 7:34:34 AM PDT by Valin
The first live show for 36 years by Eric Clapton's blues/rock "power trio" may have attracted the attentions of the media, but it has had difficulty snaring anyone under 40; young people are conspicuous by their absence from the bars and foyers of the Royal Albert Hall. The atmosphere is less like a rock concert than a corporate hospitality tent at Wimbledon. Paunchy men in sports jackets clink ice in gin and tonics, and mumsy ladies fan themselves with pricey souvenir programmes. Presumably some of them were here the last time Cream played the Royal Albert Hall, squinting at the band's November 1968 farewell concert through a fug of aromatic smoke. Tonight, however, the air is thick with something else, not as pungent, but no less heady: nostalgia for a lost era, when a 15-minute drum solo called Toad could have your average audience roaring their approval, rather than clambering over each other to reach the exits.
You can see why anyone who wasn't there at the time might approach Cream's surprise reformation with trepidation. History frequently gives the impression Cream were formed for the specific purpose of giving the Jimi Hendrix Experience something to upstage. Hendrix, rather unsportingly, fetched up in London two weeks after their first gig, and immediately set about making them look a bit stodgy. He has continued to do so after his death; one of the few benefits attached to choking on your own vomit at 27 being that it prevents you from reaching middle age, donning an Armani suit and crooning deadly soft rock ballads about how your wife looks wonderful tonight. In addition, as Clapton notes between songs, Cream "didn't go on for very long - the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune cut us off in our prime" - but their 2 year career was responsible for generating a lot of concepts that leave you wondering whether listening to rock music is such an edifying way to spend your time.
Their star-heavy line up of Clapton, drummer Ginger Baker and bassist Jack Bruce gave birth to the notion of the supergroup, in which already-famous rock musicians struggle to squeeze their collective egos into a confined space, usually with artistically disastrous results. Their massive-grossing US tours gave rise to the concept of stadium rock as we know it today. And their deathless penchant for extended soloing gave rise to improvisatory jazz-rock, perhaps the most noisome genre in musical history. After the band's split, Clapton dismissed its "maestro bullshit", but tonight, he seems worryingly reconciled to it. "We're going to play for as long as we can," he announces happily, a remark greeted with deafening cheers, rather than the deeply apprehensive gulp it warrants. A computer generated approximation of a psychedelic slideshow bathes the back of the stage, but what is startling about Cream's oeuvre is how decidedly un-cosmic it sounds in the cold light of 2005. Spoonful and Sleepy Time Time offer a curiously straightforward take on the blues: the solos may be lengthy, and accompanied by much pursing of the lips, frowning etc, but they're oddly prosaic and polished. You get a brief glimpse of what the fuss was about during Rollin' and Tumblin', when Bruce abandons his bass guitar in favour of a harmonica, and Clapton and Baker churn out a frantic, clattering riff. Baker turns out to be the evening's surprise star. A noticeable resemblance to Wilfred Bramble in Steptoe and Son bodes ill, but his drumming is fantastic, adding a snapping, raw edge. In fact, it is Cream's theoretically less substantial material that stands up best four decades on. Full of snaking melodic turns and false endings, Badge is simply a fantastic pop song. Deserted Cities of the Heart strikes an admirable balance between lush vocal harmonies and hulking, muscular power, and even the whimsical psych-pop oddity Pressed Rat and Warthog has the sort of character you are hard-pressed to find in less arcane areas of Cream's catalogue.
Whether their reformation is enough to firm up Cream's shaky place in the pantheon of rock legends is a moot point. But as the crowd rises mid-song to cheer another Clapton solo, and coloured lights bounce off balding pates in the stalls, you suspect that contemporary reappraisal is the last thing their fans are interested in.
I think so. I want to say Harrison wrote the song as well.
Don't forget the Depends!!!!
Jimi was from Seattle. Of course, he couldn't stand living here and went first to the east coast (to play with the Isley Brothers) and then to London.
And "Badge"?
I remember hearing that George wrote on the music, "bridge," meaning that he wanted Eric to come up with a guitar bridge in the middle of the song. Eric thought it was the title, and misread it as "Badge." The rest is history...
Too sixties for me. Like "Tales of Brave Ulysses."
The Sonics were one of a handful of underrated garage groups to come out of the Pacific Northwest in the 1960s. I always thought they they and the Raiders (that's right, the guys in the Revolutionary War uniforms) were forerunners of punk.
I try not to think about it. But that solo makes the "Clapton is God" theory understandable.
There wasn't much after Derek and the Dominoes, was there? I like "The Core," but nothing nothing holds a candle to "Crossroads."
I'm not a huge fan of Cream,I understand your "too sixties for me". I feel the same way.
George says; 'On Badge, Eric doesn't play guitar up until that bridge. He sat through it with his guitar in the Leslie (rotating speaker) and Felix Pappalardi was the piano player. So there was Felix, Jack Bruce, Ginger Baker and me. I played the rhythm chops right up to the bridge, at which point Eric came in on the guitar with the Leslie. And he overdubbed the solo later. I wrote most of the words, Eric had the bridge and he had the first couple of chord changes. I was writing the words down, and when we came to the middle bit I wrote "Bridge". From where he was sitting, opposite me, he looked and said "What's that-Badge?" So he called it Badge, because it made him laugh'.
Our lead player has a definite metal style; plays mostly power chords in between fills and solos. I tend to use the bridge pick-up in order to cut through the power chords.
As far as weight, although my Les Paul is half the weight of my '76 Marauder, it still weighs a ton. One day I noticed Santana's guitar strap (~7" wide) Since I got a 6" wide bass strap, my shoulder feels much better :o)
Opening riff for White Room? Or just meds need adjusting?! :)
I wonder how many of today's hot musical performers will be giving reunion concerts like this in 35-40 years like Cream is doing? For some reason I am not seeing a lot of them.
It's a great album. Interestingly, it could be described as a "Flower Power" album, but it holds up very well, except for the third record, which was a mistake.
Saw that too. IIRC, George's son, Dani, also played. Good show.
When my oldest brother got back from Vietnam in '69, he suggested I listen to Cream. I only have the Disraeli Gears cds. There is a song called "The Politician" where Clapton sings "I support the Left, but I'm leaning to the Right". Apparently, he hasn't and probably will never.
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