Eric Clapton @ Rod LaverArena, Melbourne (10/03/09)

Sun 15th Mar, 2009 in Gig Reviews

‘There is no support act. Eric Clapton will be on stage in three minutes.’

It was hard to believe.

‘Eric Clapton will be on stage in one minute.’

A crowd of largely well-heeled – or at least well groomed – middle aged people broke into a run in a vain endeavour to be seated before He came on.

‘Eric Clapton is on stage now.’

To sit down and face one of the music world’s most celebrated guitarists as he ripped through an electrifying bracket ( Tell The Truth, Key To The Highway and Hoochie Coochie Man) was a moment of true rock exhilaration. It was hard to believe. The capacity crowd at Rod Laver Arena seemed to be made up of people who might feasibly have seen Clapton in The Yardbirds, Cream or Derek and the Dominoes. In what proved to be a strangely eerie experience they remained – for the most part – seated and silent throughout Clapton’s sonic summation of decades worth of guitar history, bursting into applause only once a song had finished and ceasing abruptly as Clapton splayed his fingers across his light blue Stratocaster.

Joined onstage by Abe Laboriel Jr. (drums), Chris Stainton (keyboards), Willie Weeks (bass), Doyle Bramhall II (guitars / backing vocals), Clapton led the charge through a blistering set that borrowed heavily from Derek and the Dominoes landmark record, Layla and Other Assorted Lovesongs. Sharon White and Michelle John lent support on backing vocals and looked every inch the part in figure hugging black, but Doyle Bramhall II failed to impress me in a long coat that looked suspiciously like a dressing gown. I wanted to shake him and say, – œYou are playing guitar with ERIC CLAPTON. Sharpen up!’

Fashion aside, I Shot The Sheriff finally prompted a response from the awed audience and while the arresting light show and phenomenal performance were flawless, toward the end of the first bracket the lack of movement in the stands was, well, weird. A smattering of people were inspired to jump to their feet and clap above their head, but tens of thousands of eyes burning into the back of their heads had them sheepishly looking around and sitting down swiftly.

The band drifted off stage, leaving the backing vocalists to perch and wait as Slowhand pulled the acoustic out and began a celebration of his true love, the blues. A series of huge screens that lined the back of stage, and had previously created psychadelic swirls and memories, now captured an image of Clapton’s fretboard, so as to show his magical fingers in increased proportion. The band were back for rollicking jalopy Nobody Knows You while Running On Faith was a highlight: it appeared that the band and guitar techs were still getting their act together when the song started, but as crew scattered Clapton and the band galloped into outstanding rock. Man-mountain Abe Laboriel Jr. was especially exciting to watch – his drumsticks looked like toothpicks in his massive hands, his touch incredibly light and fast. Stainton’s solos were, too, amazing.

They all had a splendid time pushing the blues as close to rock as you can get and as we progressed through Motherless Children, Queen of Spades and Everything’s Gonna Be Alright, even the bored kid sitting next to me (who had no doubt been dragged there by his father) started to put a bit more effort into his applause. To sit down at a rock concert is an odd thing, and it was difficult to comprehend the reverence with which people retained their silence.

A burst of cheers and applause welcomed in Wonderful Tonight and I wondered how many baby boomers in the audience thought this was – œtheir’ song. It was a bit of a yawn for mine, but I didn’t have to wait long to reinstate my adoration.

Earlier terrified that Clapton might deliver Layla in the ‘Unplugged’ arrangement I was beside myself when he ripped into the original balls-out version. I actually had that prickly thing happen to my eyes, as happens just before you start to cry. That led straight into Cocaine (an old dude singing about coke finally wins respect in the bored kid’s eyes) and it must be addressed: there is no way to adequately pen adjectives that communicate my stunned awe. We use – œbrilliant’ and – œawesome’ too often for them to still mean enough. At last, the disappearance of Clapton and band from stage dragged the sold out crowd to their feet and finally, everyone went apeshit: screaming, roaring and delivering thunderous applause.

After a neat break, Clapton performed an encore in the form of Crossroads – the audience all immediately shut up and sit down – and too quickly, it was all over.

Rapturous applause ensued as the arena plunged into darkness, the house lights came back up and we all sat there, more than a bit stunned. Of course, we are talking about Eric Clapton – who has been referred to as God since he first came to the world’s attention nearly fifty years ago – and there can surely be no one else who can create such mastery and adulation with a Fender. To have survived thus far and still be so incredible: it was just really hard to believe.

CHECK OUT THE PHOTOS OF THE GIG HERE