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.
He also played a cherry-red '64 ES-335.
When I went to a Cream concert in a tent in Cherry Hill, NJ, there was a rumor that Ginger Baker had died. Sure enough, Clapton and Bruce came out and played, but the drums sat empty. After a few songs, Baker emerged, but he looked like he was dead. Then he started to hit the drums. Both arms and both legs never stopped moving for the next few hours. A night I will always remember from my youth. But I don't remember exactly what year it was.
Cream wasn't a supergroup, at the time only Clapton was an established star. Now when half of Cream joined 1/3 of Traffic to form Blind Faith THAT was the first supergroup, Cream was just a group that happened to be super. I'd have gone to the reunion gig and I'm under 40 (barely), great rock.
I agree. Our lead guitarist is constantly flicking me crap about my Les Paul. He keeps insisting I need a strat. I keep telling him that two strats would sound like one muddy guitar. IMHO, a gibson rythym coupled with a strat lead sounds way better then two strats, especially if one is covering classic rock songs.
Well, I think we can all agree that "Alexis" just doesn't quite get it. Just trying to compare Jimi Hendrix to pretty much any of his contemporaries is wrong and to claim that Cream was somehow less influential just because The Experience breathed the same air...absurd.
One thing I may agree with the author on is the apparent "ageing" of concert audiences. You're more likely to see it happening at shows for more established acts and primarily at those shows where ticket prices are very high. Look at the audiences for certain other groups and you'll see kids that don't even look old enough to drive. Face it....how many teenagers are going to scrape together the cash to drop it all on seeing The Moody Blues, YES or the Allman Brothers? Parents are taking their kids to see acts they themselves saw in the 60's and 70's. See it all the time.
I hope they tour the U.S. If they come to N.C. I am there.
Wow, I wish I had seen this concert. I saw Clapton in '78 and he just seemed to be going through the motions, but about 5 years ago I saw Jack Bruce and he was outstanding. Still sounded the same as when he was lead singer for Cream.
Pet Sounds BUMP !
I got tickets at the Tower to see Robert Plant at the end of June. Reportedly, he is going to do a lot of classic Zep. Classic rock is pretty big around this area (Philly) and my 14-year-old son can't get enough of Led Zeppelin so it will be interesting to see what kind of audience mix shows up at the Tower Theater. I have a feeling it will be a lot of Dads with their teenage sons (like me and mine).
I saw Cream back in the 60s once.
Ginger Baker was on something (well, when wasn't he?), and whatever it was didn't sit too well on his stomach.
Without missing a beat, he leaned over to the side, vomited on stage, and kept right on going.
Ouch! But "Badge" and "Crossroads" justified their entire career, regardless of anything else they did.
Very embarrassing. I am the Eggman, koo koo ka choo.
No doubt. I also like the sound two Gibsons -- Duane Allman and Dicky Betts come to mind.
The best album for comparing the sound Gibsons and Fenders is Layla (Derek and the Dominos). Clapton's Strat sounds thin and wimpy alongside Duane's Les Paul, even though it was mixed slightly louder.
But Strats definitely cut through the mix better than Les Pauls, and you can get a nice twang out of them with an ash body (although not nearly as twangy or as bell-like as a Tele), and they're a lot more comfortably to play (especially when the gigs run long).
They're in their own category. Nothing really comes close.
Still waiting for the next Led Zeppelin to come along.
I would choose "White Room" and "Sunshine of Your Love", but thats just me.
The guitar solo on the live version of "Crossroads" is probably one of the greatest guitar solos of all time.
What happened to Eric Clapton after that? Whatever it was, it made me not want to ever snort cocaine.
It was close. Most amazing.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.