TOM WILLS PRODUCTIONS: No. 174: Let It Grow With Eric Clapton

ERIC CLAPTON By Tom Wills, October 2012

My first exposure to Eric was Derek.
Woolworth's in the Austin Village Plaza in Warren, Ohio, used to wrap up and sell 45 rpm records in packs of 10 or 20. They were "cut outs," or they had a small hole punched in the label. Either they were production overruns, surplus, or defective.
Usually there was a lot of crap in those Woolworth bundles, but every now and then something cool would pop up at the right price.
Such was Derek & The Dominos' "Layla," backed with "I Am Yours," on Atco Records. It was a cheap-looking label: Yellow, white and black with a trumpet crudely drawn next to big ATCO letters. An orphan label of Atlantic Recording Corp. at the time, home of Sonny and Cher.

E.C. bends THAT note.

At first I thought, "This is a really long song."
Then I was like, "Lots of piano at the end and no one's singing."
And then I was all like, "Layyyyyyyyyla, got me on my knees."
It was 1970 and a serious moment for a 9-year-old.
I have trouble remembering to empty the dishwasher, birthdays, dentist appointments. But I can remember stuff like this.

Awaiting a frame.

Every now and then, in those younger days, Eric Clapton would be on the car radio. "Bell Bottom Blues" was cool, too. And "Badge" by Cream. The guitar was slinky, it snaked around the rest of the music.

Slinky guitar on "Let It Grow" from 1974: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bXXThSZjNvQ

I'd missed the Yardbirds and the Blues Breakers with Clapton by then, but I'd eventually catch up.
He'd shown up on John Lennon's "Live Peace In Toronto," in 1969, which I wound up with because John was a Beatle. But it's a shitty record held together -- barely -- by Eric.

I got a cutout copy of Cream's "Wheels of Fire" at a drug store, and rode it home on my bicycle. Two records, one studio and one live, including "Crossroads." It was OK, but I wasn't ready yet for the blues. "White Room" was cool, though; still is.
And that was pretty much it, until 1984 and Oberlin College.

"Yes, I told you that the light goes up and down.
Don't you notice how the wheel goes 'round?
And you better pick yourself up from the ground
Before they bring the curtain down,
Yes, before they bring the curtain down."

I was a young reporter at The Lorain Journal covering the so-called "education beat," which really meant hanging out with the stoned and rich intellectual hippies at Oberlin. The best part of my drives there was stopping across from the campus at a crummy warehouse, where some young guys had set up a basement full of records. There were a few hanging bulb ceiling lights, there was no heat, and there were crates of vinyl everywhere. The quality was all over the map, but someone evidently unloaded a Clapton collection and I timed it just right. In one sweep I brought back "Eric Clapton" (1970), "461 Ocean Boulevard" (1974), "Slowhand" (1977), "Backless" (1978) and "Another Ticket" (1981).

The library.

By this time Eric was on the Bee Gee's label, RSO, with the little red rhino logo -- and I was ready for the blues.
I picked up the rest of the back catalog while E.C. took a little break until 1983, hooking up with Donald "Duck" Dunn, Phil Collins and others to unload the poppy "Money & Cigarettes," followed by "Behind The Sun" (1985) and "August" (1986). He took a lot of crap for these records because they had a lot of synthesizers and a lot of Phil Collins, but I love this trio. Great stuff, and E.C.'s finest vocals, ever. He does have a great throat.

Large.

And so it continued through the '90s and into the 2000s. More blues, more pop, some sonic experiments ("Pilgrim" in 1998), a couple partnerships with B.B. King and J.J. Cale. All nice and all smooth, instantly recognizable as Clapton, but nothing spectacular.
He's become something of an elder statesman of rock nowadays, having written his memoirs even before Keith Richards and Pete Townshend.

My favorite Eric Clapton period remains the one I chose to draw, around "Behind the Sun" and "August," because he sounded cool, looked good, the pressure was off and a good time was being had by all.
The drawing is a little different from others I have done, in that I purposely chose not to struggle with details on the hands and the guitar. Indeed, the hands, hair, strings and knobs are suggested, rather than drawn -- as if they are in motion. Most of it is shading, not detailing.

I think that's how E.C. plays nowadays, too. Just enough.
By the 1980s I was tuned in enough to understand where Eric Clapton had come from, and to look forward to where he'd go.
Eric Clapton, the Journeyman.
Do you remember that one? You should, from 1989. In the United States it went platinum, twice.