In 2005, I had a chance to fulfill a boyhood dream …. it took thirty-seven years (and a trip to London) but it was worth the wait, as I’ll explain after the jump ….
I grew-up in the town of West Hempstead on New York’s Long Island before we moved further east in 1969. And as an eleven year-old, I remember seeing this ad in the paper for a 1968 concert by the rock band that had quickly become my favorite:
Alas, my father thought I was too young (at age eleven) for a rock concert. As it turned out, the show had faulty equipment (that particular venue was a barn-like dump) and it lasted only 30 minutes, anyway.
Now, my father was a fair man: in September 1970, he allowed me (who just turned fourteen) and my brother (who just turned thirteen) to see Led Zeppelin at Madison Square Garden. And because in addition to an 8:00 PM show, they also had a 2:00 PM matinée (and our friend’s father was driving to work in Manhattan that day) we were able to attend. But that day was Led Zeppelin’s first performance (at MSG) of many they would make that decade … so even if Dad hadn’t allowed us to go then: we’d have many, many chances later on.
But Cream broke-up later that year in 1968 ….. and so I thought I’d never have a chance to see them (although I did see the three band members as bandleaders individually). To top it off: the night of that Led Zeppelin show, we saw on television the US premier of a documentary of the farewell concert by Cream in November, 1968 which – although director Tony Palmer receives criticism for – still showed the world what it had lost. So that night I again wished I could have seen them (photo below from that show). Before I fast-forward, some background.
Many of the most famous rock bands of all time were either childhood friends (Beatles, Rolling Stones, The Who, Beach Boys, et al) or had experience in bands or as studio musicians, yet were relatively unknown to the general public (think Steely Dan, Booker T and the MG’s, et al). Cream are acknowledged to be the first rock supergroup – musicians already known to the public. Other examples would be Bad Company, Emerson, Lake & Palmer and of course Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young.
Cream blended the blues (as many of the earlier British Invasion groups had done) yet with a touch of mid-60’s psychedelia, plus a harder rock sound – and with lyrics written by a poet. Most critically: with three instrumental virtuosos, they were the antithesis of the ‘garage band’. They were not the only group to turn heads at that time: Peter Noone of Herman’s Hermits said that after watching Jimi Hendrix he thought, “Well … it’s time to quit”. But while Noel Redding and (especially) drummer Mitch Mitchell were good sidemen for Jimi Hendrix: Cream had a more balanced power trio.
One needs little introduction to guitarist Eric Clapton – suffice it to say, he had performed in The Yardbirds previously, before a stint with British blues bandleader John Mayall – which satisfied the young Clapton’s blues roots. Only age 23 when Cream ended, at age 69 today he is the only person inducted three times in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame – with the Yardbirds, Cream and as a solo artist.
Someone who changed the sound of blues/rock was drummer Peter ‘Ginger’ Baker – whose jazz influences remain with his style to this day, and he got his start in several British jazz bands in the early 60’s (Terry Lightfoot, Johnny Burch and Mr. Acker Bilk) and then blues/R&B bands (Alexis Korner and Graham Bond). Following his British jazz drumming idol (Phil Seamen), he had a long-time heroin that affected him for a long time – “Is he still alive?” was a common question before this reunion. Possessed with a volatile temper, the recent documentary Beware of Mr. Baker tells of one journalist’s experience, with Bad Company drummer Simon Kirke saying, “He influenced me as a drummer – but not as a person.” Still active today at age 75, he had a recent tour of the US with his Jazz Confusion band, along with a new album release.
One reason of many why I fell in love with this band was its bassist Jack Bruce – who became my favorite musician. Jack (along with his lyricist, the poet Pete Brown) was the principal songwriter and singer for the band, and I have followed his solo career avidly ever since Cream. He had previously been a member of some British jazz bands, along with a time with Manfred Mann and as a rhythm-section partner with Ginger Baker in Alexis Korner and the Graham Bond Organization as well. At age 71, Jack released his first solo album in years this past spring, which was well-worth waiting for.
Cream lasted 2-1/2 years, which ended for several reasons:
a) The band members were ready to lead their own groups
b) Ginger and Jack always had a difficult time getting-on personally,
c) Manager Robert Stigwood worked them in long, grinding tours, and
d) Used their profits to invest in the Bee Gees (his other main act), and
e) Their success fueled many a drug habit, leading to isolation
Still, they had an influential run, with hit singles such as White Room and Sunshine of Your Love which led to their 1993 Rock & Roll Hall of Fame induction – the first time they had performed together in twenty-five years. The reaction to their short (three song) set was so positive, that thoughts arose of a reunion, or at least a new studio album … all at their own pace, not management’s. Yet it never happened – for which one theory is that Eric Clapton’s manager Roger Forrester is regarded as always having counseled against, knowing how traumatized the young guitarist was by the grind the band put him through.
But by late 2004, stirrings were being reported that perhaps there was a chance that a reunion could take place. In part, enough time had passed to allow for old wounds to heal, and also Eric Clapton had parted ways with Roger Forrester and had been seeking new challenges. Yet another reason was that bassist Jack Bruce had undergone a liver transplant – which had initially not gone well, before he recovered. This gave an impetus to discuss getting back together … while they still could.
When the news finally came, many headlines included the words I’m So Glad – a song by the bluesman Nehemiah ‘Skip’ James that was a part of the band’s repertoire. When the band recorded the song, they made sure that Skip received the royalties he was entitled to, something that was not often done in those days. It paid for his medical bills, and the band received a letter of gratitude from his widow after his death in 1969.
Four shows were scheduled in the 5,200 seat Royal Albert Hall – the same venue they had last performed at – in May of 2005. Now, as it turned out: the shows at the RAH were so well-received, they later added three shows at Madison Square Garden (MSG) in New York that October … and had that been part of the plan from the start: I might have only concentrated on attending a show there. But that was yet unknown – and so even though none of my friends were interested in travelling to London for a concert, I could not let this chance slip by.
Tickets went on-sale a few months before at 9:00 AM London time (4:00 AM Eastern) on a Monday morning via telephone and Internet. The phone was terminally busy, and the Internet never completed. The RAH website did not have a “Best seat available” option (as the MSG website did have months later). So I kept choosing a section and row, then clicked “purchase” … only to have it come back as “Sold out”. Those who know me well know that I seldom use expletives (as my father never did). That morning, “rat bastards!” were the cleanest words I uttered … and after an hour, I went to sleep in frustration.
When I got to work that day, I saw the ticket I tried in vain to buy … were now for sale on eBay and ticket broker sites … and at (ahem) premium prices. Once again, I started muttering (silently, this time) and vowed not to reward these extortionists … and for any other show, I would not have. But I finally gave-in … this band meant that much to me. So I wound-up paying 7-1/2 times face value for an upper-level seat at the first show (May 2nd, 2005) which the broker said they would deliver to me the day of the show wherever I was staying in London.
The trip there was nice, and unusually warm for London (80’s during the day) and here is the RAH by day. For those of you travelling to London, this is a wonderful venue; worth taking a tour of. And while it is principally used for classical music shows, popular music has long been part of its offerings.
Another bonus: I did get to meet the two gents you see below (Grant Scale and Dennis Lawrenson, both from Australia) whom I knew from a Jack Bruce fan list-serve. And the night before the 1st reunion show: the Cream’s lyricist Pete Brown performed a show at the well-known Bull’s Head Pub m in the suburb of Barnes, and the three of us got to talk to him for a while before the show … such stories about the “old days”.
Also, two days before the show: on a hunch, I looked-up the address of the ticket broker and went there, to see if I could pick-up my ticket then. Wotta break: by sparing them the trip, they checked their inventory of single tickets (as they wanted to keep groups together). With that, they offered me a free upgrade to a Choir seat (behind the band, to the right in the old photo, way above) but close and – best of all – in the overhang row. I jumped at this, as now I went from paying 7-1/2 times face value for an average seat to 2-1/2 times for an excellent seat. Still unhappy … but much less so. Here is the ticket (with “No support” meaning “no opening act”).
I met Grant and Dennis for dinner again before the show – Grant had a ticket for that first night (Dennis for the next night, yet he tagged-long too). Since Jack Bruce had never before performed in Australia, an exuberant Grant asked me, “Ed, aren’t you going crazy?!” – but having seen all three band members at shows, I was relaxed. Here is the line-up at the show: there was a BBC helicopter that flew overhead, as the shows were on the news. I hadn’t been at this major an event in twenty years.
Alas, I have lost many of the photos I had (computer crash, and misplaced prints). Suffice it to say, I had a great time talking to people before the show – I recall a nice fellow from Brazil named Beto (there by himself, like me) and some other old fans, too. Yet there were some thirty-somethings, too.
The band came out at 8:07 …. no announcement, no flashpots, no strobes … just walked on-stage, picked up their gear and counted-into “I’m So Glad”. No one knew what they’d play …. it was basically the old songbook (plus adding “Stormy Monday”) and only briefly spoke to everyone. Talk about old school.
Song list:
———–
I’m So Glad
Spoonful
Outside Women Blues
Pressed Rat & Warthog(!!)
Sleepy Time Time
NSU
Badge
Politician
Sweet Wine
Rollin’ & Tumblin’ (Jack on harmonica)
Stormy Monday
Deserted Cities of the Heart
Born Under a Bad Sign
We’re Going Wrong
Crossroads
Sittin’ On Top of the World
White Room
Toad (6-minute solo from Ginger)Encore: Sunshine of Your Love
(Note: the set-list was identical at the MSG shows that autumn, with the addition of Tales of Brave Ulysses).
That night, many of us (including Grant Scale, who spotted me from the orchestra section) got together for some drinks …. I didn’t sleep that night, I was so thrilled. Their voices were a bit worn, a line-or-two was flubbed … but they were great. There is both an audio CD as well as a DVD available as a composite from those four nights. I got to see the first reunion show in London …. and the last show in New York (at face value, and with my brother and close friends).
To sum-up: a wave good-bye from the fellas that night.
Perhaps my favorite song from the show, We’re Going Wrong is a song I’ve heard Jack sing with his own band … but hearing Cream perform it was the best.
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