Eric Clapton
“Bet you didn’t think I knew how to rock and roll …”
Well, to tell you the truth, Eric, we had begun to wonder. What with all the running around you’ve been doing of late, we’d begun to worry that you’d become just another studio musician, hobnobbing with the rich and famous. After all, overexposure to Leon Russell has been known to turn some people into wind-up tambourine-beating rocknroll dolls.
But no. Even though it’s a “supersession,” even though the personnel is liberally salted with old Delaney and Bonnie Friends, it comes off as a warm, friendly record of the kind that I haven’t heard since the first Delaney and Bonnie album. Of the tunes, we have some good old tambourine beaters, one beautiful all-acoustic piece authored entirely by Clapton (most of the rest are by him and Delaney Bramlett, who produced), and a bunch of simply delightful D&B-styled gospel-type numbers, which, unlike a lot of the recent attempts in this genre, succeed because they build sensibly to a climax rather than indulging in the type of excess that spoiled Leon Russell’s album, at least for me.
Clapton’s voice is a revelation. He’d been scared to use it before because he thought it was terrible, but Delaney told him that his voice was a gift from God, and if he didn’t use it, maybe God would take it away from him. Which, I thought, is maybe a nice way of saying “Well, maybe it ain’t too hot, but you should sing along anyway.” But Clapton’s voice is just fine; rough and unfinished, maybe, but it adds to the rustic quality of the music.
“Bet you didn’t think I knew how to rock and roll …”
Sure I did, Eric. And you play a mean guitar, too.