[Slowhand] Mission Estate review

[Woff]

Clapton was God but the crowd wanted karaoke

By SIMON SWEETMAN - The Dominion Post | Monday, 29 January 2007
*
Last year's Mission Estate concert (Chris de Burgh and Olivia 
Newton-John) left a bitter taste in the mouths of many who had paid for 
tickets before the lacklustre acts had even been announced. *

Desperate to avoid further backlash, organisers were quick to announce 
that one of the world's most famous guitarists – a man once known as God 
and nicknamed Slowhand for his distinctive, laidback approach to 
presenting blues – would be this year's marquee name.

It was also Eric Clapton's first visit to New Zealand since he blew my 
mind as a teenager in Auckland in 1990. I paid to see him then and made 
the pilgrimage – just as I paid for the privilege this time thanks to 
the attempts of the concert promoter to ban me from reviewing the show.

Last year's drunken embarrassment of an audience was replaced by a 
calmer crowd, I think occasional afternoon showers and a percentage of 
keen music fans replaced the usual beer-fest attitude – and thankfully 
so. But still, the annual Mission concert (this, the 15th) is a bizarre 
hybrid of musical performance and rural party flock in Hawke's Bay.

This year we were treated to a class act – and though the circumstances 
were different, I came away feeling that, as with Chris de Burgh last 
year, on the whole, Clapton was not treated with respect.

There were people keen to hear Tears in Heaven and Lay Down Sally – 
ghastly songs that have no place in any decent performance.

The first five songs were taken from the 1970 masterpiece, Layla and 
Other Assorted Love Songs, credited to the band Derek and the Dominoes 
(Clapton's attempt at hiding from the spotlight). Having participated in 
a Cream reunion two years ago, the man behind the signature, piercing 
Stratocaster tone is clearly enjoying revisiting his early career 
highlights and nudging his blues pedigree back to the fore.

His version of Jimi Hendrix's Little Wing was sublime, a widescreen epic 
with tour-de-force jamming between Clapton, left- hander Doyle Bramhall 
II and young slide virtuoso Derek Trucks.

It was immediately apparent that this concert didn't just feature one of 
the world's greatest guitarists; in fact we were being treated to three 
of the best.

A sit-down acoustic set had Clapton offering Robert Johnson's Driftin' 
Blues as a solo piece, and then returning to the Layla album for Nobody 
Knows You When You're Down and Out to whoops and hollers from the front 
section of the audience.

The rowdy regulars on the bank weren't so noisy this year.

Large sections of the crowd seemed indifferent to the magical interplay 
between funky bassist Willie Weeks, master drummer Steve Jordan and the 
three-pronged guitar attack.

It was a shame that so many just wanted a karaoke singalong, when pure 
blues class was being poured out on tap.

Running on Faith provided a happy ballad moment with gospel- derived 
backing vocals and some searing slide guitar. And Motherless Children 
from 1974's 461 Ocean Boulevard was another rare gem. After the 12-bar 
boogie of Further On Up the Road (restored to his live set after taking 
a break since the late 1970s) the crowd finally got to test their pipes 
on Wonderful Tonight.

It was ironic that so many wanted to hear one of the world's best 
guitarists simply sing, and then when he did, the crowd did its best to 
drown him out.

Layla got the bank to its feet and the encores of Cocaine and Cream's 
version of Crossroads should have sent the crowd home elated.

But there were, sadly, many people who wanted to sing along to cheesy 
mid-90s dross and the early 70s radio hits.

What a waste. But hey, I paid the money and I got to see a living legend 
return to his former glories.

Clapton, as far as I'm concerned, is still God.