Eric Clapton is such a skilled musician that perhaps one day people will say he sold his soul to the devil to reach his level of achievement. Thank God he's over his cheesy pop phase. His best work is blues-based, and if he sticks to it he'll be remembered as a king of the blues in his own right.
Clapton has always been more than willing to share his glory with friends and influences. Even after standing out as a rock icon during his early years in The Yardbirds, Cream and Blind Faith, he hesitated to take the spotlight and continued hiding himself within bands like Derek and the Dominoes and Delaney & Bonnie & Friends. With his latest release, "Me and Mr. Johnson," Clapton takes the time to show some gratitude to his greatest influence, Robert Johnson.
Johnson was, and always will be, the king of the Delta bluesmen, though his early death in the 1930s cut his music career tragically short. The legend goes that he had no musical talent but wanted more than anything to play the guitar, so he met the devil at a plantation crossroads to make a bargain. Songs like "Hellhound on My Trail," "Me and the Devil Blues," "If I Had Possession Over Judgement Day" and "Up Jumped the Devil" all exhibit his haunted thoughts.
"Me and Mr. Johnson" breaks down the blues to its roots. It is comprised of short songs with repetitive guitar riffs and strong harmonica support. But it's not an attempt to duplicate the 70-year-old recordings. The whole album is distinctively Eric Clapton. His velvety voice that sounds like it was made to sing the blues permeates the ancient songs and enlivens them. Whereas most of Johnson's work sounds tortured and, to paraphrase Clapton, scary in its intensity, Clapton's take sounds reverent, infused with admiration and joy to simply be playing the blues.
One playing of the album, or any of Johnson's recordings for that matter, makes understanding Eric Clapton as a musician infinitely easier. From Cream's 1968 direct cover of "Crossroads" -- that was to become Clapton's signature song until replaced by 1992's "Tears in Heaven," -- to the influences embedded in his Unplugged version of "Layla," to the tones of his collaborations with B.B. King, Robert Johnson is ubiquitous in his music.
"Little Queen of Spades" stands out as being the rawest track on the album. Just as many of Johnson's recordings did, it moseys along in an almost drowsy way that brings to mind muggy days on the Mississippi Delta. The organ solo stands out, adding an almost-gospel quality to the song.
"Milkcow's Calf Blues" starts off with a very heavy, electric guitar-based beat that is reminiscent of Clapton's style from the days of "White Room" and "Sunshine of Your Love." And yet despite the track's departure from the tone of the rest of the album, it fits perfectly. The flavor added by the rock proves that Clapton wasn't lying when he wrote in the liner notes that Johnson's work "has always been the keystone of my musical foundation." Mr. Johnson has always been, and hopefully always will be, in the front of Clapton's mind when he picks up his guitar.
There are a few expected songs that make no appearance on "Mr. Johnson." "Crossroads" is absent, but rightfully so -- most people today know the Cream cover and neither the original nor the haunting story behind it. Including it would have been redundant and would have detracted from Clapton's intent to pay tribute to his greatest influence. The one song that this album would have benefited from including is "Sweet Home Chicago," a staple of Johnson's work. It would be a pleasure to hear what Clapton would do with it.
"Me and Mr. Johnson" is a nearly perfect work, and that is not something often said about tribute albums. The songs flow together harmoniously and remain individual and aptly hold the listener's attention. Fans of Clapton's entire career should be ecstatic to listen to this album -- a knowledge of blues is hardly necessary to appreciate it, though it will inspire fans to discover the roots from which a rock icon grew.
