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SPIRITUAL MUSIC ADVICE 'N' STUFF
by Rev. Richard Visage
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Ever wonder why there's so many music dinosaurs out there? It
seems to me like, back in the bad old days, a band would get a hit or
two, then deservedly fade into obscurity. Say, for instance, Freddy and
the Dreamers -- I think they had one horrid hit with "Do the Freddy",
and maybe a backup hit with a loathsome ballad, and then were never
heard of again. Freddy probably became an insurance salesman dressed
in doubleknits, and yeah, he's the guy that came to your front door,
smoking a cheap cigar.
He deserves it, too. But then there's others that just never seem to
go away. The first time I saw Eric Clapton play, he was with Cream, and
he was generating serious guitar magic at the time. He played wildman
blues and psychedelia, did amazing improvisations, and enunciated his
guitar work like no one in the business. He was a certified guitar god,
and deserved the title.
Things changed. Eric joined the super-ego super-group Blind Faith
and was still brilliant. After the one and only album that Blind Faith
produced, he joined the musical debacle called Delaney and Bonnie and
Friends. Worse, he sang. Worse, as his career continued, he didn't stop
singing. Ugh. Let's spin a CD, kids.
Back to the Cradle,
Eric Clapton
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Who could possibly disapprove of Eric Clapton doing a back to the
roots pure blues album? I just know all the critics are going to rave
over this one just out of purity of concept.
And it is a good idea. Hell, he's put together some extra-fine blues
musicians for this album and done all the recordings on a single take.
Is this great or what?
Well, first of all, Slowhand can still pick. Bigtime. There's some
absolutely technically brilliant guitar work on this album. The band
is relentlessly professional. And the whole thing is tired, tired,
tired. There's so rarely a trace of emotion, or real blues feeling on
this album, that it could be made into one of those New Age sleep-
inducing tapes. Ms. LaBamba steals the remote control from me when I
listen to this album, and quickly changes the disc. Can you argue with
a woman who wears spandex and garters?
Oh, and the vocals deserve mention. With the exception of a
small bit of backup vocals, it's all Eric. Eric, his nasal whine, and
twenty years of failed vocal training. It's so laboured at times as to
be downright hilarious. To really enjoy this album, you need one of
those karioke machines that can tune out the original vocals on the
track. The only song that really works on this album is an acoustic blues
track, "Driftin'", which is reminiscent of the pathos-ridden Tears in
Heaven, and doesn't require much in the way of vocal gymnastics. Again,
absolutely wonderful guitar work on the acoustic box.
Well, I'm sure that you're going to buy this one, despite my ranting
about it. But, let's make a bet. In a year from now, you'll find this CD
second from the bottom in your pile, look at it, and think about putting
in on. But, you'll just stick it back on the bottom of the pile. Delete
bin, here it comes.
As your spiritual advisor, might I suggest that you pick up J.J.
Cale's new release, Closer to You, instead? J.J. is the author of some
of Clapton's bigger hits, "Cocaine" among them, and is held in godlike
esteem in the UK and in parts of Canada. He's also the gentleman whose
guitar style is most imitated by the likes of Clapton and Mark Knoffler.
This is real Okie pop/blues, it doesn't to pander roots purists, and it
has the feel of musicians who love, and are lost in, the music. The
album starts with the blues/rocker "Long Way Home" and winds through the
hypnotic vibe-powered "Slower Baby" and winds up with "Steve's Song",
an absolutely sparkling instrumental. One could criticize some of the
lyrics as being a little to simplistic or Okie, but they don't detract
from the music.
I'd mention that Ms. LaBamba gets naked every time I play it, but
that'd probably encourage folks to buy the album for all the wrong
reasons. Or, maybe not.
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Religiously yours,
Copyright 1994 Rev. Richard Visage
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Rev. Richard Visage is the official Spiritual Advisor to Fidonet and
is listed on the masthead of the Fidonews, where his correspondence
with the infamous Doc Logger is published regularly. The Rev. operates
163/409 on a laptop from various hotel rooms, and is bankrolled by
expense accounts from unsuspecting publications who showed the poor
judgement of hiring him. Canadian Government officials list him and
his semi-clad secretary, Ms. LaBamba, as officially being "at large"
somewhere in North America.
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