[Slowhand] Chicago Review

[DeltaNick]

Polished Clapton Sticks Too Close To The Script
Jeff Johnson, Staff Reporter
The Chicago Sun-Times
19 July 2004
http://www.suntimes.com/output/entertainment/cst-ftr-clapton19.html

CONCERT REVIEW: ERIC CLAPTON AT THE UNITED CENTER

Lincoln had his Douglas, Ali his Frazier, Nicklaus his Palmer ... but who is
Eric Clapton's foil?

At 59, the British guitar god clearly is not interested in surrounding
himself with musicians who could push him to greater artistic heights. He's
a brilliant bandleader, no doubt, but he needs some external challenge to
produce his finest work. And there were no Jack Bruces, John Mayalls, Duane
Allmans or Steve Winwoods onstage with him Saturday night at the United
Center.

Touring behind "Me and Mr. Johnson," his reverent exploration of the Robert
Johnson songbook, Clapton played a tightly scripted greatest-hits show that
relegated the Delta blues great's material to a five-tune segment in
mid-set. No doubt more than a few among the sold-out audience would have
gone home grumbling -- and not come back next tour -- had Clapton skipped
"Layla," "Wonderful Tonight," "Badge," "Cocaine" or his other signature
tunes in favor of a full evening of Johnson's music. But commercial
considerations aside, it might be asking too much of Clapton to spend every
night conjuring the spirit of the tortured 1930s bluesman who sang of
hellhounds on his trail.

So think of "Me and Mr. Johnson," then, as a quick artistic refresher rather
than a total spiritual immersion. Clapton is a man who has stood close to
the fire before, with nearly tragic consequences. He's content now, so it
seems, and probably doesn't want to upset some delicate balance.

It's a shame, though, that Clapton has no use for bandmates who could stoke
his artistic fires. Gone for one is stylish jazz-rock guitarist Andy
Fairweather Low, replaced by Texas axman Doyle Bramhall II, who's still a
work in progress. Long gone too is Jerry Portnoy, whose harmonica solos
could have put the Johnson material over the top.

Still around, miraculously, is Billy Preston, who rejoined the tour a couple
of weeks ago after battling serious health problems. Preston's Hammond B-3
work drew an enthusiastic response, although he's hardly robust enough to
stand toe-to-toe with Old Slowhand.

The rest of the band, pianist Chris Stainton, drummer Steve Gadd and bassist
Nathan East, plus backing singers Sharon White and Michelle John, may be the
cream of the crop, but collectively they're no Cream.

Not that there wasn't much to like about the show. Start with "I Shot the
Sheriff," a true guilty pleasure for those who crave the sound of E.C.'s
guitar. Clapton's new rocked-up arrangement and go-for-broke solo work
breathed new life into the Bob Marley song. "They're Red Hot" ("Hot
Tamales") was a rollicking acoustic number played not as a novelty but with
the urgency that a young Johnson might have given it to get passersby to
stop and feed the kitty.

Clapton's utter professionalism was a marvel, although sometimes an
annoyance as well. His 110-minute set, which is identical at each tour stop,
is so carefully orchestrated that the breaks between songs are shorter than
on an album. Set changes and replacement guitars appear as if by magic. The
breakneck pacing doesn't provide time to hit the refreshment stand, but it
might have pleased Mr. Johnson, supposedly a stickler for precision himself.

For those who like more raw energy in their performers, Robert Randolph and
the Family Band served up a thunderous 35-minute opening set. Randolph, who
draws psychedelic-era sounds out of his lap-steel guitar, conjured a muse of
his own with an instrumental version of Jimi Hendrix's "Voodoo Chile (Slight
Return)." A demonstrative showman, Randolph kicked over his stool to
punctuate one tune and engaged in a game of musical chairs in which
bandmates handed off their instruments during another song.

Randolph was the cherry atop the sundae for Clapton's two encores: "Sunshine
of Your Love" and "I Got My Mojo Working." Maybe if Clapton invited him
aboard full time ... no, that might start those hellhounds yelping again.


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