Rock and Roll PING! email Weegee to get on/off this list.
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.
What were the ticket prices? That may have some bearing on how many "youngsters" attended?
However, I've known some oldies like the Stones who attract you and old alike -- at thousands of dollars a ticket.
Strats and Cream just don't mix.
This guy hasn't a clue, must be a twenty-something.
Have any of you seen my Metamucil ??
HOW is Ginger Baker still alive?
Did they have a bubble machine for the dance floor?
Rock and Roll PING! email Weegee to get on/off this list.
Hey, I've got the best of Cream CD playing in my car right now...and...."I'm so Glad, I'm so Glad, I'm glad, I'm glad, I'm glad....."
That was DISCO......Ten Years After........(That was a good group, too).....
screw the snot nose liberal brats at the guardian, vicariously snubbing their parents like this.
I don't know, but if you could bottle it you've make a fortune!
Ditto Kieth Richards.
I'm listening to Blues Power right now but not from my car. Are you freeping from your car?
No kiddin'. Didn't somebody steal "The Fool" SG? Either way, there's no shortage of "The Fool" copies out there... some very, very accurate.
Lando 
Over on the Fender Fourm, one of the members went to the show and posted pics. He was playing a Strat in them.
<< HOW is Ginger Baker still alive? >>
He lives in Colorado and breeds horses.
Met him a few times when with EC in Denver during the 90s and he was as fit as a fiddle -- although a "bit blur like a sotong," [Cuttlefish] as the singaporeans say.
But a real beaut bloke, too!
I got to see short-lived Blind Faith at the Midwest Rock Festival in Milwaukee back in 1969. To this day, it was well worth being "grounded" for staying out well past curfew to see them.
I've heard that Tood Rundgren has the fool.
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