Cream
Farewell Concert (DVD-V)
(BMG)
I was quite surprised to read, a few weeks ago, that a new pedal
for guitarists was about to be officially introduced: the Jimi Hendrix
Experience. A perfectly legal enterprise, you see, with the benediction
of the Hendrix family and the complete collaboration of legendary Hendrix
tech Eddie Kramer. By using a proprietary technology, DigiTech’s pedal
can replicate (duplicate? emulate? I’m waiting for reports) sounds that
were an integral part to seven songs made famous by Hendrix, such as
Purple Haze, Little Wing, Voodoo Child and All Along The Watchtower.
Having been a witness to many a fight between fans of the two guitarists,
I have to confess that my second thought was: what, no Eric Clapton
pedal? There is one, of course, named (surprise!) Crossroads. It obviously
features the tones to classic Cream songs such as Sunshine Of Your Love,
Crossroads and Badge (have no fear: Layla is featured, too). Among other
things, the pedal is said to be able to duplicate Clapton’s famous "woman
tone".
It was at this moment that I recalled the Eric Clapton interview
featured in Cream Farewell Concert, the movie that presented Cream’s
last concert held on November 26, 1968, at London’s Royal Albert Hall.
In the course of the interview (shot the previous year, like those with
Ginger Baker and Jack Bruce that appear in the movie) Clapton is asked
to show on his guitar (which is the famous SG/Les Paul he used for a
big part of the group’s career, not the ES-335 that he used for most
of their final concert) some of his classic licks – and his famous "woman
tone". Which he does. I wonder how many times he had brought the
stylus back while listening to some B.B. King album (say, Live At The
Regal) in order to find the secret to that mysterious tone. (Just like
our friend who, having watched the movie in London, told us that "Clapton
did it exactly like this".) Quite funny to imagine Eric Clapton
that, when asked to show his "woman tone", whips out a B.B.
King pedal and proceeds to dial the appropriate preset.
Maybe this is the reason why the tiny excerpt of Cream performing
Skip James’s I’m So Glad from Farewell Concert featured in The Soul
Of A Man – the movie about the blues directed by Wim Wenders – is such
a vibrant, contemporary, and explosive moment, when compared to the
clowns, poseurs and assorted buffoons that are featured in the movie.
Quite difficult to play, the music that Cream performed for a couple
of years all over the world (mainly in the States – their Fillmore concerts
of ’67 a turbo push towards change that is not mentioned very often)
was made of many parts. Clapton’s deep knowledge of the blues, obviously:
the three King
(Albert, B.B. and Freddie), Skip James, Robert Johnson, Hubert Sumlin,
Howlin’ Wolf, Willie Dixon, Otis Rush. A highly volatile (also on a
personal level) rhythm section, Bruce and Baker had already played together
in the Graham Bond Organization. Behind Baker one could easily see people
like Sam Woodyard and Elvin Jones (and – provided one lived in London
– Phil Seamen). Bruce’s background was wide, from Mingus jazz to Bach
counterpoints. All three breathed freely onstage, trying to earn each
other’s esteem – instruments in hand – in endless performances.
Obviously,
one cannot be inspired all the time. And we all know that working too
hard is detrimental to creativity. One wonders whether with a different
management Cream would have lasted any longer. The Bruce/Baker relationship
had always been a difficult one. Clapton ("the master of the cliché",
according to Rolling Stone – the magazine was also critical of Jack
Bruce’s bass style) felt he didn’t like being forced to play long solos
all the time. Clapton’s (and Baker’s) next group, Blind Faith, found
Clapton as a very reluctant "God", ready to jump ship. While
Bruce embarked on dangerous trips with The Tony Williams Lifetime ("when
Blind Faith played Madison Square Garden we had an engagement at Slug’s"),
and with Carla Bley on the album Escalator Over The Hill, then proceeding
to record a brilliant series of solo albums of songs.
Heard
today, the blues tracks featured in the movie – the classic Crossroads,
Sitting On Top Of The World, Spoonful, I’m So Glad, and the "home-made"
classic Politician – don’t sound tired, or played in auto-pilot. One
can see Baker’s verve, Bruce jumpin’, Clapton’s mouth twitching due
to the tension.
A
blues band: this, according to legend, is what Atlantic boss Ahmet Ertegun
thought he had signed, with Clapton as the leader, guitarist and singer.
But Clapton didn’t like to sing, and didn’t write much; so they had
to feature the songs that Bruce was writing, among them the group’s
perennial classics Sunshine Of Your Love and White Room; mostly penned
by Bruce the tracks that make Disraeli Gears and (above all) Wheels
Of Fire’s studio LP such interesting works beyond their (excellent)
blues style.
Directed
by Tony Palmer using what was available at the time (more than adequate
means, but not if you want to look impressing on MTV) Cream Farewell
Concert was a legendary movie, later on VHS and DVD-V. Dunno what a
young person watching it for the first time will make of it, though.
If one recalls that Cream were in those days one of the biggest bands
in the world, it’s funny how "minor-scale" everything is –
rock still being "minority music", not the invisible wallpaper
that’s nowadays such a large part of everybody’s life. One could also
consider the age of those involved at the end of the career of a group
that had already changed rock music, Bruce being 25, Clapton 23, old
Baker 29. Quite shocking to see that, when interviewed for the movie,
the group members talk about music and instrumental technicalities (think
about the topics that would be chosen if this movie were to be shot
today). It’s quite likely that the importance of physical dexterity
for the music played by one of the big groups from the days of what
has been perceptively called Jurassic Rock will be missed by most newcomers.
Will they bother to watch it again?
Beppe
Colli
©
Beppe Colli 2005
CloudsandClocks.net
| Jan. 30, 2005