[Slowhand] Daredevil Edge

[DeltaNick]

Music Review: Clapton Has Lost A Bit Of His Daredevil Edge, But Still Plays
With Fire
By Kevin McKeough, Special to the Tribune
Chicago Tribune
July 20, 2004

In 1968, while he was with the band Cream, Eric Clapton recorded a concert
rendition of Robert Johnson's "Crossroads Blues," and both the blues and
rock music have yet to recover from it. Clapton's supercharged guitar and
scorched earth solo (and Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker's stampeding groove)
helped establish frenzied bombast as a pinnacle of creative expression, and
all too many guitarists since then have emulated his example.

But when Clapton performed a handful of Robert Johnson tunes from his new
tribute CD, "Me and Mr. Johnson," midway through his show at the United
Center on Saturday night, he and his band sat during them, beginning with
jaunty acoustic renditions that set their legs shuffling back and forth.

Even after switching to electric guitars for versions of "Milkcow's Calf
Blues" and "If I Had Possession Over Judgement Day" that had as much fiery
intensity as Cream once did, Clapton traded raw abandon for deliberate
finesse. He shouted Johnson's double-entendres and threats with careful
timing while playing corrosive rhythm guitar riffs, Doyle Bramhall II
punctuated Clapton's singing with searing slide guitar licks, and drummer
Steve Gadd stomped on the beat as if he were trying to put out the fire.

The difference between how Clapton played the Delta bluesman's music as a
young man and how he plays it now as a slightly grizzled 59-year-old
typifies the path his music has taken. Truth be told, he lost the daredevil
edge that made him a legend three decades ago, replacing it with the
steadier and considerably more laidback style that marks his solo career.

At its worst, that approach has produced a glut of mellow pablum,
represented in his concert by the sleep-inducing ballad "Wonderful Tonight."
Fortunately, in recent years Clapton also has imbued his songs with a deeper
musicality, a skillful sense of nuance.

The hockey arena acoustics worked against this aspect, making Nathan East's
bass lines inaudible and backing singers Sharon White and Michelle John
superfluous. Still, subtle flourishes peeked through, including the way the
band swung easily over Billy Preston's barrelhouse piano on "I Want a Little
Girl," and the orchestral coda to "Badge," when Chris Stainton's lovely
piano cascaded down on the guitarists' drone.

That refinement extended to Clapton's frequent solos, which showed the fire
still burning inside the guitarist as they moved quickly through swift
variations on four-note figures punctuated with long sustains. Yet just when
they reached a fever pitch and seemed on the verge of breaking into
something revelatory, he brought them to an end.

He briefly crossed over to the lowdown side of the blues with his guttural
riffs during a hard-slamming rendition of "Cocaine," but only during "I Shot
the Sheriff" did he let himself stretch out at length, building to slashing
lines that found even Clapton himself gaping in amazement. In that moment,
Clapton reconciled his passion with his precision, and he seemed to be most
delighted by it of all.


Copyright © 2004, Chicago Tribune