George Starostin's Reviews

CREAM

"Dance myself to nothing, vanish from this place"

General Rating: 4

Introduction

ALBUM REVIEWS:

VIDEOS:

APPENDIX: SOLO PROJECTS

Disclaimer: this page is not written by from the point of view of a Cream fanatic and is not generally intended for narrow-perspective Cream fanatics. If you are deeply offended by criticism, non-worshipping approach to your favourite artist, or opinions that do not match your own, do not read any further. If you are not, please consult the guidelines for sending your comments before doing so.

This page also hosts comments from the following Certified Commentators: Nick Karn, John McFerrin, Fredrik Tydal.

Introduction

Oh. Hello there. Just thought I'd do some Cream reviews. I'd done some for the good ol' Prindle site but who am I to rip-off my own reviews? Nah, let me prove my brilliancy and demonstrate to you that I am able to express my opinion in at least two different ways. Actually, there might be some differences, too, as musical growth and development of the individual is a never-ending and completely unpredictable process, but I wouldn't be able to notice them myself. You tell me if my mind has suddenly undergone any serious modifications since that time...
Cream were a good little band that originated a hell of a lot of projects and created a great deal of brilliant musical ideas. What did they do, exactly, for me to rate them above Led Zeppelin? Well, first of all, they plain and simple invented hard rock. Okay, wait, they didn't exactly invent it - The Kinks and the Who have been doing that stuff earlier, and Hendrix did it at the same time, but still - all of these early efforts by these bands were not really treated as significant music. Pete Townshend had been praised as the master of noise, and the usual reaction towards Hendrix was 'wow, that guy sure can do clever things with that guitar of his', but when it came to songwriting, Pete was quickly turning towards pop and Hendrix was stumped. Cream, on the other hand, masterfully used hard riffs and loud, crunchy bass/guitar interplay to incorporate them right at the heart of their music and make them look like essential parts of the song instead of looking like kitsch. In that sense they can be seen as the real fathers of hard rock a la Led Zep or Deep Purple. Or, at least, they are an important link between the music of Kinks/Who and the music of the later long-haired smelly monsters.
Next, Cream were an essential psychedelic band. Disraeli Gears made them certainly the most hip band in Britain - a good deal more far out than the Fab Four, not to mention the weaker efforts of the Stones, the Who and (God forsake!) the 'New Animals'. More cool than Pink Floyd, too - the Pinkers embodied the darker, 'astral/cosmic' side of psychedelia, while Cream were bringing San Francisco onto the shores of the Thames, but a San Francisco with a touch of Britpop and a touch of true guitar heroics, not weak imitations a la Jorma Kaukonen. And Cream, and Cream alone, should be praised for successfully marrying the genre of psycho pop with the blues: as a 'psycho-blues rock' record, Disraeli Gears still stands as a completely unique product in musical history.
They were a superprofessional group, too - nobody but the Who could rival them in 'professionality', but not even the Who could master these twenty-minute jams. Not that I'm a great lover of the famous Cream jams, but I at least respect them: they were innovative as hell at their time, and extremely interesting from a technical point of view. Eric Clapton was at his peak as a guitarist; Jack Bruce is an absolute bass virtuoso, even though his singing voice is only for amateurs; and Ginger Baker brought rock drumming to a new level of professionalism and geniality. If Keith Moon was the soul of rock drumming, Ginger certainly was its mind. Oops - I've just given you the line-up of the band.
As you all probably know, Cream were the first 'supergroup', if we assume the word 'supergroup' to be a single composite word and not the combination 'super group' and have the meaning 'band consisting of several already well-known professional players gathered together from various musical sources'. In the actual case, Clapton came from the Yardbirds and John Mayall's Bluesbreakers (see my review of his single album with the latter on the Clapton solo page), and Baker and Bruce came from the notorious Graham Bond Organization, a presumably classy mid-Sixties jazz combo. They were also the first 'power trio' - contending themselves with just one guitarist, like the Who, but not sharing a separate vocalist: rock'n'roll at its most raw and minimalistic. Not that their studio recordings were all stripped down; on the other hand, in order to keep up with the competition, they brought all kinds of little experimental devices and schemes into the studio. Unlike bands like Pink Floyd, though, they always concentrated on making music, not noise (and I stand by my careful separation of the two genres of art), and that's why I really love 'em so. In concert, however, you just had to concentrate on the sheer instrumental virtuosity of every one of the three players - yes, their lengthy jams were terribly self-indulgent in the true sense of the word, but believe me, these guys could allow themselves to be self-indulgent, unlike, say, Lenny Kravitz. That's why I refuse to simply put down their jams as dated and completely pointless: all of them do have a point, and the main problem is whether you have or don't have to take it.
And finally. Do not expect me repeating cliched phrases like 'Cream influenced thousands of groups, and traces of their music can be found in the songs of so-and-so-and-so-and-so...' I hate that 'influences' rubbish. I don't care whether they did influence anybody or not - even if I just said they certainly influenced Led Zep. If Cream's main role in history would be playing music that was to influence many more generations, I wouldn't be listening to them at all. No, Cream's main attraction is the music itself - they wrote quite a solid handful of classic tunes, and even the lesser efforts are quite enjoyable. Could Led Zep or any other hard rock band come up with a song like 'Sunshine Of Your Love' or 'White Room' or 'Dance The Night Away'? No sir, they couldn't! Don't keep on giving out that bullshit about Cream being a group of 'serious historical importance'. What are they - Herman's Hermits, dammit? They get a rating of 4 from me because they didn't have the time to stick around too long - in fact, they said good-bye right after their third record, but that don't make the music worse, now does it?

What do YOU think about Cream? Mail your ideas

Your worthy comments:

<Quarrymn@aol.com> (23.03.2000)

collins.invercargill <collins.invercargill@xtra.co.nz> (26.07.2000)

ALBUM REVIEWS 
FRESH CREAM

Year Of Release: 1966
Record rating = 8
Overall rating = 12

A jolly good pop album with lots of enjoyable songs, even though the tone is somewhat monotonous.
Best song: SPOONFUL

The world expected Cream's first release to be something like a hardcore blues album, and in fact that's what they were planning to do, according to Eric - but somehow they changed their minds at the last moment. Probably just in order to tickle the nerves of the audience - but, as it turned out later, it was a fatal (or an ominous?) choice. If you have the latest edition of the CD, you'll probably be astonished by 'Wrapping Paper' which is tacked onto the end. It was their first single, and it's simply a lightweight jazz number driven by Jack's keyboards! Quite a nice jazz number, in fact, with lots of tinkling pianos and great vocals from Bruce that every Bruce sceptic should revert to in order to convince himself that the man could really sing if he wanted to; but nothing could be further from a hardcore blues anthem, and the fans for miles around were hugely disappointed at the time of the single's release.
And the other songs? The other songs are pop! 'N.S.U.' gets a steady beat from Ginger and a cool guitar line from Eric, as well as some resplendent vocal harmonies, but it's just a happy pop song, and a bit primitive at that. So is the equally memorable, but equally kinda childish 'Sweet Wine' written by Ginger Baker together with Bruce's wife (no kidding). I do enjoy it, together with the ridiculous 'bap-pa pa-du-bap-pah' chantings, but sometimes they do get on my nerves. Even some blues and R'n'B originals are transformed into jolly lightweight ditties - the somewhat lesser Clapton-sung 'Four Until Late' and the amusingly groovy 'I'm So Glad' (with some of the most wonderful lyrics ever written) are typical examples. Indeed, the only thing that reminds us these guys can get real gruff are the generic Clapton solos in every song. They're short, though, unlike the live versions, and therefore memorable and tasty. The one on 'Sweet Wine' is my favourite, especially the bizarre contrast of the happy intonations of the main melody and the angry, pulsating guitar licks in the solo. Actually, this could also be turned against them: most of these solos don't really sound as if they belonged to the songs. You get a happy pop section, then - whammo! - they change the key and Eric inserts a completely independent, gruff, scary guitar solo; then - whammo! - they change it back and end the song just like they started it. Such an approach might really seem self-indulgent: it's almost as if Bruce and Clapton worked separately, with Bruce recording the main melody in one corner of the world and Eric practising his guitar playing in another, after which they'd come together and patch their work with little regard for the actual song structures and compatibility. It seems that after listening to the final product, the lads realised it themselves, as Disraeli Gears sounds miles ahead this 'patchy' approach, with most of the solos smoothly fitting in with the main melody; here, though, much too often it sounds like rehearsal time. Not that I really mind: I like the melodies and I like the solos, so I'm simply as happy as can be. The bad thing is you can't program the album so that the solos come solo and the melodies come along untampered with...
Anyway, apart from the hard-hittin' solos, you really won't notice anything bluesy or even 'rocking' about this album. It starts with their first psychedelic single - the harmonic, trippy anthem 'I Feel Free' (a great singalong number, too), and ends in a five-minute Ginger solo number called 'Toad' for some unclear reason. The number which served as the blueprint for thousands of unimaginative aperies by fellow drummers ('Moby Dick', 'Rat Salad', etc.). In general, I'm not a fan of drum solos, but there are certain moments which can intoxicate you - quite seriously so, especially somewhere near the end. Ginger is indeed a fascinating drummer, and, unlike lame imitators like John Bonham or Bill Ward, he has a polished, perfectly smooth and absolutely precise jazz technique. While the lengthy live version on Wheels Of Fire is enough to try the patience of a tortoise, this relatively short version can actually be fun to listen to, at times.
But hey! Smash in the middle comes a cover of Willie Dixon's 'Spoonful', and this is where blues fanatics that have already started to leave the living-room in disappointment suddenly rush back and push out the happy pop lovers. 'Hey', they say, 'this is our stuff, man! Cool guitar tone!' And indeed, the longest number on the record (clocking in at about six thirty) is a great hard-rockin' blues improvisation, where everything works. Well, almost everything. Like I said in the intro paragraph, Bruce's vocals are something special. I'm just not a fan of his yelps and screams - why didn't he bother to sing instead? Did Plant borrow his annoying 'human intonation' from him or what? Aarggh, never mind. He does play some exciting harmonica, and Eric steps in with numerous solo overdubs that almost put to shame everything else he's done on this here album. A definite classic, and a live highlight too, even though it would stretch up to twenty minutes... Other classics include a rip-roarin' version of 'Rollin' And Tumblin' with a great harmonica break. Ever heard hard rock based on harmonica? Guess not. That's what this one is - the tune actually bleeds on my ears after a little while.
Nevertheless, there's still some filler over here - perfectly understandable, as this was the first try, after all - including the above-mentioned 'Four Until Late' (with a horrendously off-key vocal duet between Eric and Jack), the chaotic psycho throwaway 'Dreaming' and the completely unnecessary rendition of the traditional 'Cat's Squirrel'. I couldn't give the record a perfect rating because of these flaws, as well as because of all the 'patchiness', but I guess an eight ain't a completely bad thing too. Overall, this album is just plain fun. You can almost see them rushing everywhere in the studio, turning all the knobs ('let's see, now what does this trick do'), suggesting clever ideas and just having fun, fun, fun. Not quite like it would turn out in the future, but hell, we all have our happy days, and they all must be over someday or other...

I feel free to post your ideas

Your worthy comments:

Fredrik Tydal <f_tydal@hotmail.com> (03.09.2000)

DISRAELI GEARS

Year Of Release: 1967
Record rating = 10
Overall rating = 14

The best psychedelic album ever. Rich bluesy/psycho guitar and wonderful melodies abound. Buy it NOW.
Best song: SUNSHINE OF YOUR LOVE

Such a huge lot of classic albums came out in 1967 that I even feel a little scared. I mean, there are probably more records from 1970 or 1971 in my collection, but it's when I glare at my 1967 records that I kinda feel awe for them. Sgt Pepper? Satanic? The Who Sell Out? Surrealistic Pillow? The Doors' first two albums? Aw, man, now these are the cookies. And right towards the end of that year we also get Disraeli Gears to top it off...
Jack's pop inclinations, Eric's blues legacy and the Summer of Love's psychodelic atmosphere meet together on this album to produce eleven classic tracks.Well, ten classic tracks: the eleventh one is just a short vocal ditty called 'Mother's Lament'. It has groovy lyrics but nothing else (in the literal sense - the band members sing accapella and their voices aren't that angelic in the first place) and was probably tacked on to the end because the fellows had nothing else to do. But the other ten tracks can't be beat. This was the peak of Clapton's experimentation in the studio (he was apparently being spurred on by Hendrix), and this, combined with Jack's and Ginger's magnificent technique and Bruce/Brown's skillful songwriting, produces marvelous effects.
The record still sees a couple generic blues numbers, which people often like to complain about. But in this case 'generic' never means 'unlistenable': after all, 'Outside Woman Blues', the track which bores the most listeners, is a huge improvement over the insecure blues-pop of 'Four Until Late'. It's tough, upbeat and really mature even compared to Eric's Bluesbreakers days: notice, for instance, how steadily and untrivially they construct the main riff to the song. But the main innovation of the record, of course, is transforming pure blues into magical, shimmering psycho-blues: 'Strange Brew' is a typical example, with Eric delighting in his newly-found 'woman tone' and Jack switching his clumsy whiny voice for a delicious heavenly falsetto (acid, acid, acid again...) I tell you, this, to me, is a sound far preferrable to even the uncompromised leaden blues of Led Zep as used on, say, 'You Shook Me', simply because it took a lot more intelligence and creativity to produce such a sound: lovely and sweet, but sharp and menacing at the same time, and the surrealistic lyrics, dealing with a dangerous witch who's in love with you, suit the tune one hundred percent. Or why not take 'SWLABR' (which is short for 'She Walks Like A Bearded Rainbow', not that it makes any more sense), a song built around a fast'n'furious heavy riff and also featuring the good sides in Jack's voice; note the great change in tone in lines like 'Coming to me in the morning/Leaving me... ALOOONE!', where he changes key so subtly and unexpectedly I'm always taken aback.
The pure psycho numbers, without a direct blues influence, are even more effective, especially 'Dance The Night Away' with Eric's masterful soaring guitars introducing every next chorus. Man, how DOES he do that? He sounds as if he's flying right up there in the air - over our shoulders! And what a sad thing it is that he never milked that rainbow-tinged, heavenly guitar sound again; this is the closest he ever came to shove off the burden of the Earth off his shoulders. And if it's too joyful and light-hearted to you, you're welcome to a darker, almost proto-gothic epic: 'Tales Of Brave Ulysses' the lyrics to which seem to have been the blueprint for ninety-nine percent of Pete Sinfield lyrics, with sirens, sparkling waves, leaden winters and, of course, the tiny purple fishes. HEY! DON'T YOU GO FORGETTING THE TINY PURPLE FISHES! Me, I love tiny purple fishes, though I guess I ain't ever seen one. Maybe that's why I'm so fond of the song, but, more probably, it is due to the ferocious interplay between Bruce's steady bass riff and Eric's multitracked wah-wahs: a true symphony of sound, all thanks to Eric's masterful overdubbing techniques.
On the melancholic side, 'World Of Pain' and (especially) the majestic, deeply depressing 'We're Going Wrong' add a touch of sadness and pessimism to the record - but it's not the realistic terror coldness of Jefferson Airplane, rather a 'cosmic' feeling of sorrow that's moving and majestic at once. Surprisingly, quite a few people out there hate 'We're Going Wrong'! What a shame! This has to be Jack Bruce's stellar hour - he's singing a rather complicated vocal melody, and he sings it quite fine. It's more or less structured like a draggy, repetitive mantra, but Baker's gargantuan drumrolls and Eric's angry guitar tone are anything but mantraic... huh.
The best known song, of course, is 'Sunshine Of Your Love', and it's really less of a psycho number than most of the others: it's one of the first real heavy Brit rock numbers (can you imagine Led Zep without hearing this one?), and it also features the arguably most famous riff in rock'n'roll history (only 'Smoke On The Water' can probably defy its popularity). At least it should certainly be included in the Golden Dozen. I used to hate this song when I was a child and hated all hard rock with a passion, but I grew up and so did my tastes. Which actually means that it isn't a bad song at all. In fact, it's downright great. Damn, this whole album is great. I even recently softened towards Baker's 'Blue Condition', the one track on here I always thought of as fillerish, cuz it's so slow and Baker mumbles under his nose as if he wasn't interested. But now I understand that it's just part of the song's overall charm; it's still not as impressive as the rest, but makes a decent side closer.
Now let me just tell you this - it's Disraeli Gears and no other record that should be considered the real symbol of flower power and all of these things. Have you seen the album cover? Damn aplenty! It's groovy, with all those flowers in every corner and the band with frizzed hair and painted guitars. One of the best cases of album cover/songs immaculately matching each other. Whoever made such an album? Jefferson Airplane? Nah, they were too heavy in acid, so they emphasized the real dark side of it. The Beatles? Nah, they were too light in acid, so they made a couple of Flower Power ditties like 'Lucy In The Sky' and quit. Pink Floyd? They weren't trippy at all, they were cosmic lunatics. Hendrix? Don't make me laugh! No, Disraeli Gears is the album to have if you really want to know what Flower Power was all about. And forget that San Francisco crap like After Bathing At Baxter's! Why don't you go listen to some good music?

Dance the night away! And mail your ideas in the morning

Your worthy comments:

John McFerrin <stoo@imsa.edu> (21.10.99)

jemster <jemster@ix.netcom.com> (12.11.99)

Fredrik Tydal <f_tydal@hotmail.com> (05.03.2000)

<FoxCurator@aol.com> (05.07.2000)

Paul Stadden <paul@stadden.com> (07.10.2000)

<nicholas.green@NTL.com> (14.10.2000)

Brian Adkins <badkins@mail.calltech.com> (13.12.2000)

WHEELS OF FIRE

Year Of Release: 1968
Record rating = 8
Overall rating = 12

A little over the top, what with all those fifteen minute jams and all, but still - similar in tone and mood.
Best song: WHITE ROOM

Really the last Cream album - all the others were just mementos and archive releases. The idea was to present the group in all the splendour of its artistic and instrumental power, and whether it works or not, I'm not too sure. I warily give the record an 8, but there's really no middle ground: you'll probably either love it to death or hate it until your deathbed. However, in my case this rating really represents the truth, since I'm still formulating an opinion...
The album itself is double, with one disc full of new studio recordings and the other one live. The album cover is similar to the Gears cover, but worse: the fantastic colour brilliancy of that one is reduced to a sloppy greyishness here (at least, that's what it looks like on the CD release: strange enough, the cover as shown in the Fresh Live Cream movie is just as radiant and lush. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that at the time of release the album was also being sold as two separate records - the live one and the studio one, with two different covers). Anyway, the grey colour probably represents the state of the band at the time: tired of endless touring, tired of each other and disappointed of being treated as 'product' providers instead of creative souls. Which is actually justified - manager Robert Stigwood and the record company guys were milking them mercilessly (ain't it a coincidence that the RSO record logo pictures a cow?)
But at least they managed to give out this record. Which is actually quite patchy, to my ears - brilliant psycho anthems and ferocious blues covers share it with some obvious filler. Some of it was probably meant to be experimentative, but it doesn't work. 'As You Said', for instance, is a dreadful listening experience for me; producer Felix Pappalardi messed it up with heavily distorted cellos and it sounds a lot like a couple drunk members of a symphonic orchestra having laid out their instruments for some 'fun'. (It's also an obvious influence on the later Led Zeppelin bastardization 'Friends' which is even worse). This atonal, dissonant stuff should have been left for Captain Beefheart, not for Cream with their traditional approach to melodicity. As for Ginger's 'Pressed Rat And Warthog', while nowhere near as offensive to the ear, it's still just a space filler (more goofy spoken lyrics in the style of 'Blue Condition' from the last record, but significantly less entertaining). These two songs really don't go anywhere: they're loose, definitely uncatchy and don't have any significant hooks (except for nasty ones).
I must say, though, that my attitude towards the mantraic 'Passing The Time', which used to complement my trio of Hate Objects on this record, had definitely changed for the better after several listens. Pappalardi does a good job with his violins on that one, and the steady shift of atmosphere, from the Eastern-influenced intro to the gentle glockenspiel of the childish verses to the all-out rocking fury of the chorus, works perfectly.
And the rest of the songs are mostly phenomenal, quite Disraeli Gears-worthy. The record kicks off with the classic 'White Room' - the typical psycho anthem with absolutely meaningless lyrics but an unforgettable 'feeling' around it. It takes the 'cosmic sorrow' of 'We're Going Wrong', adds the descending riff of 'Tales Of Brave Ulysses' and finishes things off with a fiery Clapton wah-wah solo (and did I ever tell you how much I like Clapton's wah-wah solos? Be sure to check the live version on Fresh Live Cream or Farewell Concert, with an even greater version of this solo). Classic! 'Deserted Cities Of The Heart' is the other highlight, just because it's so very fast and breath-taking and angry and bitter. Why couldn't it become a punk number? Probably only because Clapton is too tasty and skillful for any associations with punk. And Bruce's 'Politician' is built around yet another inventive riff, not to mention the hugely politicized lyrics. Funny how these Cream records are so chock-full of flabbergastingly great riffs, yet neither Clapton's nor Bruce's solo work aren't exactly recognizable for a respectable approach to riffs.
Some of the songs are written by Ginger in collaboration with a Mike Taylor (not to be confused with temporary Rolling Stone Mick Taylor), and it shows, 'cause they include the wretched 'Pressed Rat', as well as the slightly better 'Those Were The Days' which I've never actually liked, but at least it does display some talent. Still, Jack's wife made a much better partner for Ginger. Hear that, Jack? And, finally, the blues covers 'Sittin' On Top Of The World' and 'Born Under A Bad Sign' are nothing spectacular, but quite effective and, once again, far superior to Eric's Bluesbreakers period output. I particularly love Clapton's guitar tone on both of them; he has effected a successful shift from the 'woman tone' to a sharp, brisk and menacing sound which can hardly have anything to do with 'psychedelic' but is nevertheless quite unique and immediately recognizable as 'Claptonesque'.
Now the live disc is what puts such a lot of people off. Sure, it begins with a fire-spitting, wall-rattling version of Robert Johnson's 'Crossroads' which Eric is still performing quite often; his technique, speed and the achieved effect are indeed worth admiration. But do we really need the mind-numbing ten-minute solo on 'Spoonful' (which is quite a tight and solid performance apart from that), or Jack's seven minutes of harmonica improvisation on 'Traintime', or Baker's fifteen-minute drum solo? The critics and the diehard fans say 'yea'. The amateur says 'nope'. I say "pr'aps". What I mean is: I don't really mind these obvious excesses. Technically speaking, these performances are nothing short of spectacular, and watching the show live must have been a really phenomenal experience. They just don't raise any emotion or, hell, any actual feeling. Maybe if you were stoned?.. But that's really not for me to test. On the positive side, I really don't mind putting this live disc on if I want some good background music. It's no dentistry a la Dave Gilmour or Tony McAlpine, and it's no anti-insomnia machine a la Seventies Robert Fripp, at least. It's just a terribly professional but not terribly emotional three-piece (or one-piece in Ginger's solo case) rock monster. Take it as it is and don't blame it. Anyway, I gave this record an 8, so why should I be putting it down?

As you said, so shall it be. Just mail your ideas 

Your worthy comments:

Freek van Ee <vanee.mdijk@consunet.nl> (12.06.99)

Nick Karn <glassmoondt@yahoo.com> (15.10.99)

Valentin Katz <Valka324@home.com> (31.12.99)

GOODBYE CREAM

Year Of Release: 1969
Record rating = 6
Overall rating = 10

A nice little 'memento mori', but it really shows the band at its decline.
Best song: BADGE

By that time the group was already officially disbanded, but this album cannot be qualified as an 'archive document': its release was pre-planned and they even wanted to repeat the format of Wheels, but there just wasn't enough studio material, so they agreed on a mini-scheme: one side live, one side studio. Even with that, the studio side is one of the shortest in history - just three middle length songs. (I haven't seen the LP, but I might suggest that the third live cut could have been put on the second side; otherwise, the time balance is really unjustified).
Out of these, 'Badge' is unarguably the best, being co-written by Clapton with George Harrison (who appears on the credits as 'L'Angelo Misterioso' on rhythm guitar): however, it should be pointed out that it's by now much more associated with Clapton's solo career than with Cream: it's long since become a stage favourite, and one can hardly imagine a Clapton live show without him putting it on and having the entire audience chanting the stupid 'love is my badge, love is my badge' refrain which wasn't even present on the original recording: it was later 'ad libbed' by Eric in order to justify the song title. He forgot to edit the nonsensical psychedelic lyrics, though, so the contrast between the improved refrain and lines like 'I told you not to venture out in the park, I told you about the swans that they live in the park' is kinda strange. In any case, this studio version, with 'mystical' guitar overdubs and fabulous harmonies, is superior to any subsequent live ones - although I'd highly recommend the one off Rainbow Concert, where Pete Townshend fabulously 'deconstructs' the rhythm part in his own unique way.
The other two are downers. Jack contributes the childish electric piano disaster 'Doing That Scrapyard Thing' (what thing exactly, Jack?) that hardly measures up even to his solo records which I'm not a terrible fan of: it manages to be somewhat catchy, but at the expense of good taste. The goofball vocal intonations on the third line of each verse make me sick, and he even makes Eric's guitarwork to seem clumsy and obnoxious. As for Ginger's 'What A Bringdown', it really builds on the legacy of 'Pressed Rat And Warthog' which is not a compliment. Then again, on a general level it's still better; there are some fast parts, there's a strange disturbing atmosphere all over the place, there's some catchiness, and it does feature some nice thunderstormy guitarwork near the end, when Eric picks up the wah wah, twists it, distorts it and brews up a real tempest. But only for a few moments.
Plus, the re-issue of the album is somewhat improved since it has 'Anyone For Tennis' - a flop single from 1968 (it was earlier issued at the tail end of some Wheels Of Fire pressings). It's a very nice psycho ditty that came from Eric's hand. He himself hated it, but I find it silly and charming, even though it really doesn't belong to this record. But imagining it as some kind of a 'swan song' for one of the greatest psychedelic bands in existence is pretty easy, and I suppose we should just close our eyes on the chronological misplacing. 'Anyone for tennis, wouldn't that be nice?'
Anyway, amateurs are nevertheless recommended to stick away from this record and let the diehard fans come in and grab it for side A - three more live cuts which add little to the Wheels Of Fire legacy but are at least different. The nine-minute 'I'm So Glad' is rambling but features some great speedy Clapton solos - some of the fastest, in fact, he's ever layed down on record. The slightly shortier 'Politician' features some more great Clapton vibrato solos, some of the most vibrating he's ever layed down on record. And the five-minute 'Sitting On Top Of The World' features... guess what. Actually, the solos on the last one surpass even the studio version, making it probably the second most important live Cream song you have to own after 'Crossroads'. My real complaint here is that the recording engineers should be shot! The sound on Wheels Of Fire was loud, bright and comprehensible; here, everything sounds so muddy you hardly hear Clapton at all - especially on the most crucial moments of 'I'm So Glad'. Bruce, on the other hand, is mixed incredibly high - you'd think the audiences went over to the Fillmore East to hear his bass. Not that it's bad - it's amazing, but you sometimes wonder whether you are really listening to a nine-minute bass solo...
Overall, this is only recommendable for huge fans. I could give it a low seven, if it weren't so blatantly short: but any decent Cream hits collection includes 'Badge', and the amateur can safely sleep without any feelings of remorse that he hasn't heard the others. The studio stuff, good or bad, shows the band as nothing but three solo performers serving as backing groups to each other, just like the Beatles on the White Album; the days of brilliant idea-exchanging are long gone by. (By the way, it is rumoured that during the band's last tour, they hated each other so much they always arrived and departed in separate limousins). Unfortunately, quite unlike the Beatles, all three of the songwriters manage to really suck (do you really think Clapton's the real author for 'Badge'? Okay, so he is, for half of the song. That's no big compliment, either). The album cover is cool, though: as if these three were perfect friends!

What a bringdown! Where are your ideas?

Your worthy comments:

jemster <jemster@ix.netcom.com> (12.11.99)

LIVE CREAM

Year Of Release: 1970
Record rating = 5
Overall rating = 9

Continuing to milk the dead man? Whatever. 
Best song: N.S.U., but really...

This is where the record company people come in in all their might. The band had nothing to do with this record, of course, and they couldn't even control the track selection - or probably just didn't give a damn. Luckily, the tracks turned out to be acceptable - by chance. There's only four of them (which isn't extraordinary, as you might have guessed), plus a fifth novelty piece - 'Lawdy Mama', a studio piece of traditional blues recording which is actually 'Strange Brew' without the 'woman tone' and with different (generic) lyrics. Clapton's and Cream's box sets have a different version with an independent backing track, recorded before they reworked this number into 'Strange Brew', but I'm not rich enough to afford box sets, so cut that. It's interesting, though, to witness the band's working process: a) recording a simple blues tune with a generic melody; b) reworking the melody to a stage where it hardly fits with the lyrics - both atmospherically and musically; c) writing a different vocal melody and different lyrics. That way, we start in Moscow and end up in Los Angeles...
As for the live stuff, there are two shortish tracks and two longish tracks, all to bring pleasure to the diehard fan. The longish tracks are 'N.S.U.' and 'Sweet Wine', but actually it might have been anything else - both of these 'hardened' versions of the original Fresh Cream products predictably incorporate a lengthy solo in the middle that will either keep you adrenalinized or put you to sleep. I actually prefer 'N.S.U.', because it's fast - more or less in the style of 'I'm So Glad' from Goodbye, with Eric producing some mighty speedy licks now and then (just pay attnetion to that spitfire around the beginning of minute eight!), and anyway, ten minutes is not that long for a Cream live jam. Besides, Clapton seems to come to life quite often, like at the end of the fifth minute when he goes throwing around some mighty crunchy riffs and turning the music into a hard rock lover's (aka: noise lover's) paradise. I really love the way he alternates his solo bursts with power chords a la Pete Townshend (although there's a serious difference between Pete's and Eric's approach to power chords - for instance, Eric never really lets the feedback take over, while Pete always preferred a minimalistic approach. It's also amazing how efficiently he plays on the 'main' section - it's hard for me to get rid of the feeling that he's not playing two guitars (rhythm and lead) at once, because his staccato solo runs are so well constructed and flow so seamlessly in and out of the general grungy rhythm pattern that the double-guitar effect is incredible. Pay particular attention to Ginger as well on that one - his drum fills, while not too different from the studio version, indicate his amazing dexterity better than anything else on here.
'Sweet Wine', however, is seriously overdone, much like 'Spoonful' on the Wheels Of Fire version. The 'main section' is performed very loosely, to the point of looking near-chaotic, and unexplainably slowed down; as for the interminable jam, I think that even lovers of Cream jams will have to agree with me that from time to time it looks like the band just runs out of steam and it's like 'well, what next?' and Eric is only too happy to find a moderate groove which he hadn't yet utilised that evening and stick to it for ages. Sometimes they almost go off into 'nursery' melodies, just to keep the time passing. Again, occasionally they pick up energy and go off into more thunderstorms, but for the most part I really don't feel any serious point here - surely they played something more energetic on that particular evening as well. I must admit, though, that when Eric's guitar dies down and Jack's bass comes to the forefront, it becomes obvious that he's a genius on that instrument - he plays so many different complex runs and goes off into so many directions that whenever I try to count them I lose it on the third minute. Still, virtuosity and enjoyability are two different things, and I can't really enjoy that one unless I just take it for background music.
The two other tracks are shorter, but also less impressive. Thus, 'Sleepy Time Time' runs for less than seven minutes, hardly overcoming its studio counterpart, but it also adds nothing to that particular counterpart - just a couple more instrumental verses and a sloppier way of singing. As for 'Rollin' And Tumblin'', that one is notably worse than the original, since Jack is not able to reproduce his famous 'heavy metal harmonica' style on stage, and the lack of overdubs make the track as tedious as possible. Ginger holds up the rhythm well, without any of his dissonant tricks, but Jack's puffing is really miserable compared to the standard studio version, and considering that it's seriously extended, it only makes things look worse than they actually are.
To be completely honest, one must add that all of the four tracks sound really good - unlike the mixing disasters on Goodbye - and that they date from their best touring period (March 1968's Fillmore East and Winterland venues; the live performances on Wheels Of Fire were taken from the same performances), but that don't make it any better for amateurs; this is vintage live Cream for the hardened fan who can't get enough of Clapton/Bruce improvisations. You gotta give credit to the band risking these psycho guitar journeys, though. And anyway, nobody ever sounded like them - that bass/guitar interplay is practically unique for Cream, of that you can be sure.

Rollin' and tumblin' without your ideas 

Your worthy comments:

Tim Cotter <tcotter@ala.net> (21.07.99)

LIVE CREAM VOLUME II

Year Of Release: 1972
Record rating = 7
Overall rating = 11

Oh well, at least there are more songs on this one. Geez, what a relief... 
Best song: TALES OF BRAVE ULYSSES

The barrel running dry? Well, not really, as the second cash-in is actually a big improvement over the first one. Namely, there are more songs, and this time around there is only one lengthy guitarfest: the old blues classic 'Steppin' Out' which you could hear in something like a two-minute version on Bluesbreakers With Eric Clapton, here extended into thirteen minutes. But that's at the very end of the album, so if you're not in the mood, why not push the little square button? Oh, well.
All of the other tracks are later classics from the band's psychedelic period of 1967-68, and somehow they didn't feel the need to extend them into superjams; I suppose that was mostly due to the fact that all the older songs already had been extended, and since the primary reason for Cream's jamming was simply the band not having enough material to cover the entire two-hour live set they were supposed to do, there was no need to extend everything already after they had penned enough new songs. Thus, while most of the songs are a little bit longer than their studio counterparts, it's a reasonable lengthening that totally fits in with the overall feel of the given number and never makes it look like little more than a launchpad for jamming. As such, Volume II has a far 'smoother' feel than Live Cream - it flows better and makes for much more than simple background music.
The two Disraeli Gears cuts are the definite highlights, especially 'Tales Of Brave Ulysses' with Eric flashing out some superb wah-wah solos (ah! feel my cherished bias towards the wah-wah solos!) that sometimes elevate the cut from enjoyable to downright fascinating. To the band's honour, they manage to completely preserve the song's head-spinning mystical atmosphere without any of the studio overdubs, and they even enhance it with a special kind of 'bubbling solo' from Eric that gives a full impression of ships sailing and... and Ulysses drowning, mayhaps. But the live 'Sunshine Of Your Love' is not bad as well, with a slightly extended coda and Jack, for once, turning in a great vocal performance. A rare thing, too: if you don't like Jack's singing in the studio, you'll probably vomit at some of his stage screams. What a perfect guy for turning a great song into a cacophonic bunch of vocal noises! Then again, maybe I'm just not too deep to appreciate his singing. Maybe I have to grow. He's probably bringing in that 'lightweight' jazz element, but combining jazz singing with rock music isn't the thing I'd be a-loudly applauding to. Mind you, I'm not referring to all of his singing: generally, he sings pretty well, but at times he feels the need to diversify the melody with a few ugly 'vocal counterpoints' that sound extremely cacophonic, overemoting when there's no need to and intentionally going off-key.
Plus, you'll get some mighty fine Wheels Of Fire live cuts, too. Unfortunately, the bastards have included 'Politician', which, moreover, is weaker than the live version on Goodbye; it has Jack's weakest vocal performance on the record, and Eric's solo is nowhere near as well constructed as on the previous version - where are those frightening vibratos? 'White Room' cooks, however, although I'm also left disappointed by Eric's final climactic solo. He keeps hitting the same note over and over again and keeps repeating the same descending riff of the song over and over again instead of going into 'emotional overdrive' as the solo is supposed to (once again - check out the version on the Farewell Concert video after which you'll have to have somebody scrape you off the wall). Also, does anybody else think that three verses is a little bit too much for a live version of 'White Room'? I loved them in the studio, when Eric was going through this great 'triple guitar enhancement' - basic riff on the first verse, solo outbursts in between the lines on the second verse, uninterrupted soloing throughout on the third verse. But in concert it was impossible to reproduce because they'd need at least two guitars, and the riff grows a bit boring towards the end. Ah, well, this song still rules. And finally, 'Deserted Cities Of The Heart' is swift, flashy and breath-taking. A perfect choice to begin a record with, indeed. Maybe the record people weren't such huge dorks as I've come to think of them, after all...
So 'Steppin' Out' remains the only 'acquired taste element' on the album, in the long run - if I'm in the mood, I usually program it onto the beginning of the 'setlist' because it wears you out if it comes on last. It's not one of Cream's best jams, but it sure ain't one of the worst, either. It's mostly a Clapton show-off, though - Bruce keeps his bass relatively low most of the time, and Ginger is not as prominent as he is on, well, 'Toad' or something. He's extremely good in places, though - just watch him launch in complete overdrive near the tenth minute of the number, if you live long enough, of course. But if you prefer your Cream jams as real 'jams', with the guitar, bass and drums given equal prominence, you'd better stick to the first volume. I, however, prefer the second because to me, it's the right spot to prove that Cream weren't given the 'ass-kicking' live reputation simply because of their twenty-minute jams, but because they could actually reinvent their "meat 'n' potatoes" things on the stage quite effectively.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that half of these performances date from October 1968 performances at the Oakland Coliseum, while the other half is again culled from the inexhaustible barrels of March 1968 Winterland performances. It's kinda strange that they couldn't have put the Winterland versions of 'Tales Of Brave Ulysses' and 'Sunshine' on the previous record - that way, the jams would have been diluted by shorter numbers and we'd get a more accurate picture of Cream's live performances (not to mention that the best way would be to release an entire performance on one double or even triple album and save us the hassle of reconstructing the band's set from four different live sources). But I guess rip-offs are always rip-offs, and will always be rip-offs as long as there are record companies.

Steppin' out to mail some ideas, are ye? 

Your worthy comments:

Valentin Katz <Valka324@home.com> (09.12.99)

VIDEOS 
FAREWELL CONCERT

Year Of Release: 1987

Featuring, sure enough, their famous 'Farewell Concert' at the Royal Albert Hall on November 26, 1968. The quality of the sound is good, but that's about the only advantage. As it is, the concert is mercilessly cut (some songs omitted totally, most of the rest just cut); lots of important moments are overshadowed by the narrator's stupid comments; and the cameras just hang around as if they were minding their own business, concentrating on Jack's shirt or Ginger's drumstick or the audience or something like that. So that there are only six songs at all, most of them cut. The more sad is the fact that the performance was downright great - 'White Room' goes off like a bomb, Ginger shines on 'Toad', and Jack is in top form as well. There are also some funny interviews (not from around the concert), the most interesting of these being Clapton showing off some of his guitar techniques. Avoid this, still, unless you're a huge fan. I've watched it once and I feel no more need for it - especially since the best moments are also captured on Fresh Live. (Note that the video Cream Of Eric Clapton has a full-length version of 'Crossroads' which seems to have been recorded at the same show. Why hasn't it been included here, I wonder? It's great!)

FRESH LIVE CREAM

Year Of Release: 199?

A great lil' documentary. The only drawback is that there's a great deal of banter from former band members which sometimes seems interesting but most often does not, and the actual live performances aren't that many - and a lot of them are cut. Apart from that, however, what you get is some magnificent footage from a small London club in 1967: a lengthy 'Spoonful' which actually surpasses the live version on Wheels Of Fire, maybe because the middle jam is shorter and maybe because Jack's singing is somewhat tighter and more assured; a very strong 'Sunshine Of Your Love'; and 'Tales Of Brave Ulysses', with Ginger probably impersonating Scilla with his drumsticks. Besides that, there is a hilarious clip of 'Anyone For Tennis' with the band in uniforms, wielding tennis rackets (this is also the best place for appreciating their differences in height and weight, too - you'll see); a fascinating TV show extract with 'We're Going Wrong' (unfortunately, the quality is rather muddy); and short extracts from the Royal Albert Hall farewell concert which you can see on Farewell Concert anyway. So, even if the actual time of live performances isn't very long, this is a must-have for band fans - especially since it's the only documentary of such a kind.

APPENDIX: SOLO PROJECTS

Aka 'All The Crap Jack Bruce Ever Dared To Make Open To The Public'. Because, truthfully, I don't have the time or wish to check out Ginger's solo career (I'm not even sure if he had one), and I have reviewed Clapton's career elsewhere on the site: Eric was undeniably a far more significant solo artist than Jack could ever hope to be, even if their songwriting and performing talents are comparable. As for Bruce, I would be really interested in checking out his catalog, patchy and hard to swallow as it could be; simply because, want it or not, Jack was the very soul of Cream - Eric might have provided the glorious guitar texture without which Cream is unimaginable, but it was Jack who usually wrote the riffs and filled the songs with his 'persona'. As it turns out, Jack's solo career ventured far beyond Cream's limits, branching out into folk, fusion and jazz territory; none of his solo records ever match Cream's best product (well, that's actually a feeble assumption, as I haven't heard that much... yet), but many of them at least outmatch its worst. Some are worth owning, anyway.

SONGS FOR A TAILOR

Year Of Release: 1969
Overall rating = 10

All of this piano stuff is cool and queer, but much too lightweight. And where's the usual catchiness?
Best song: ROPE LADDER TO THE MOON

Jack's solo debut wasn't exactly the most predictable album in the world - and it sounds nothing like the classic Cream sound you're used to. But if you dig a little deeper and remember 'Doing That Scrapyard Thing'... you get the idea? That song actually served as a blueprint for quite a large share of the tunes on here. Without Eric to kick around any more, Jack almost completely drops all the heaviness and bluesy riffage that made Cream so prominent: there ain't a single memorable riff on the record, hell, there's not that much guitar, in fact. Instead, Jack dominates the album with himself: besides the usual bass and singing, he also gets the credits for most of the piano and organ playing, and many of the songs are entirely keyboard-based. Meanwhile, guitarist Chris Spedding makes every effort to not let his own instrument get too noisy, loud or attention-attracting, and the only thing that significantly adds to the newly-found formula is a compact brass section that makes its appearance on a bunch of tracks, comprising, in particular, Jack's old Graham Bond Organization pal Dick Heckstall-Smith on saxophone.
So about the only two things that permit us to tie Songs with Cream are the trademark Bruce vocals and the trademark nonsensical lyrics, as usually, penned by Pete Brown. This time, though, they're not even vaguely interesting - for the most part, Brown goes off into obscure Dylan plagiarizations ('The Ministry Of Bag') or boring, pretentious 'progressive' stylizations ('To Isengard' - a Tolkien reference, in case you haven't noticed). A pity, as I have always thought better of Pete Brown than is the usual norm: his colourful lyrics always added to the psycho atmosphere of Cream. Here, I simply don't notice them, not to mention that psycho lyrics do not really fit in with the album's music which has entirely lost all the psycho flavour with the departure of Clapton.
Fortunately, there's still much to laud about the album. Yes, the ten songs on here are somewhat hard to digest: the melodies aren't particularly obvious or catchy, and much of it smells of avantgarde jazz which I never favour unless it's Frank Zappa we're speaking of. And the record gives the impression of having been spat out in far too little time: the production almost seems like a ten-step regress from Cream's usual 'well-polished' approach. The sound is not only thin - it's painfully lightweight, almost kitschy, so that it's really hard to take Songs into serious consideration. After all, have you ever tried seriously considering 'Doing That Scrapyard Thing'? I'd sooner seriously consider some of the Monkees.
But don't despair! Here's the good news you've been waiting for. The tunes are all short; only 'Isengard' goes over five minutes, and most of the others rarely exceed three. So if something bothers you particularly, you may be sure it'll soon go away. Jack's singing is quite all right, too; I sometimes miss his tripped out falsetto, but he presents himself in excellent form even without the falsetto. And, finally, many of the tunes really grow on you. This is, in fact, the place where you'll meet one of Jack's most famous ever pieces - 'Theme For An Imaginary Western', a gorgeous organ-and-piano-driven ballad that has little to do with westerns but brandishes a certain 'humble majesty' a la Procol Harum; actually, it sometimes reminds me of an inferior version of 'Whiter Shade Of Pale', and Jack even sounds similar to Gary Brooker. The song was later popularized by Mountain, too.
The song might be the most well-known on here, but I personally prefer a couple others. 'Tickets To Water Falls', for instance, a somewhat gloomy, sombre shuffle distinguished by some tasty, soothing licks that Chris Spedding plays on his guitar in between the chaotic verses. And if you have a minute of spare time, please pay attention to Jack's bass playing on that one; the bass lines are simply superb. I won't go as far as to say that Jack is equal to John Entwistle because he's not, but I tell you, the main problem is that he's never bringing his bass as loud as the mix as the dear old Ox used to do, so it's hardly ever noticeable unless you really pay attention. On with the show: 'Weird Of Hermiston' has the best lyrics on the album (in which case 'the best' equals 'the only worthwhile'), although I still can't understand what kind of problems does the 'weird of Hermiston' really experience. Is he lamenting a lost love or an unfound one? Who can tell?
Never mind. 'Rope Ladder To The Moon' is the best song on here, no doubt about that. It's a bit similar to 'As You Said' off Wheels Of Fire, but it's much better cuz it manages to take the 'distorted violins' trick and make it actually rock. I mean, it doesn't sound like a mantra: it's an energetic acoustic rocker punctuated by grim cellos (played by Jack himself). Nay, I don't really know why it's the best track. Maybe I've been deceiving you. I suppose it all comes back to the accursed cellos: there are no more cellos on the record, and this makes the song unique in its own way. Well, I like the guitar melody, too.
Everything else is completely forgettable, but enjoyable as a relatively successful jazz/folk-rock noodling. At times, Jack comes close to 'predicting' CCR's sound on Pendulum: 'The Ministry Of Bag' has the brass section churn out the same melody as the above-mentioned band's 'Born To Move', for instance. And 'He The Richmond' has another cheerful, bouncy acoustic guitar melody that'll make you absent-mindedly tap your feet.
The only relative 'rocker' on the record comes at the very end ('The Clearout'), with a bit more distorted electric guitar than is the regular standard; seeing as it is completely lost behind the overblown shadow of 'Isengard', though, it doesn't ascend to very much. Oh, and did I mention a pointless dissonant avantgarde half instrumental bunch of noises yet ('Boston Ball Game, 1967')?... In brief, a fascinating record. If you fall for the atmosphere, you just might get to like it. Me, I think it'll take me a couple aeons to get used to it, but why not? Humanity is not in that much of a hurry, and after all, we'll have plenty of time in the new millennium. Way to go, Mr Bruce.

The ministry of bag requires your ideas

HOW'S TRICKS

Year Of Release: 1977
Overall rating = 10

Jack's glam album - he makes some sweeping grandiose moves on that one, but it's not too clear where he's heading for.
Best song: WITHOUT A WORD

By 1977, Jack had already switched several bands and more than a few genres and styles, apparently either feeling uncomfortable with every single one of them or considering that it was always time to 'move on'. The project that he undertook this time was perhaps his most flashy and self-indulgent ever, and it's no small coincidence that the record is presented under the title 'The Jack Bruce Band And His Musical Extravaganza'. The band itself is Simon Philips on drums, Hugh Burns on guitar and Tony Hymas (future Jeff Beck adept) on keyboards, but what's in a name? It's the style that's important. The inlay photo in my CD presents the band with wonderfully 'arranged' hairstyles and all in shiny white outfits, and if anything, it's Queen they mostly resemble on there. And not a coincidence, either: some of the songs on the album do remind me of Queen's better (sometimes worse) material. Even if they do use synthesizers.
Overall, Jack goes for a rich sound texture - overdubs, swooping orchestration and wall-of-sound trickery abound on here, and the couple of numbers that are relatively stripped down, like the title track, don't really matter much. The obvious impression is, well, to that the album is made to impress - naturally, it should be played at full volume, with a perfect pair of speakers, and preferrably in an arena: this is arena-rock at its most arrogant. The very idea might not be as off-putting as it could be to people that cringe at the very expression 'arena-rock' (and sometimes I do identify myself with these people), as the songs are quite entertaining and at least they are not full of machism or something; the problem is, there's little on here that makes the album really stand out.
In other words, I fully enjoy much of the material while it's actually playing - but it's been kinda frustrating to keep noticing that I can't ever remember anything from here once it's over. The only "rockin'" tune that repeated listenings have managed to jam into my head is the defiant, powerful boogie of 'Baby Jane' (NOT to be confused with the same-named Rod Stewart atrocity); for some reason, the nearly-obnoxious refrain ('keep on holding on baby Jane...') has been pursuing me for the better part of this week. I also enjoy Hugh Burns' minimalistic, but wonderfully effective guitar solos on the number.
As for the other songs, attention must be drawn to 'operatic', anthemic chants complete with synthesized orchestration and mammoth energy, over which Jack wails and howls like a powerhouse. These are the cases that really showcase the wonders of his voice for me, not the half-drunken rambles at his Cream concerts: 'Without A Word' and 'Lost Inside A Song' are, without a doubt, the obvious highlights of the record and some of the best songs he's ever written or performed. Both follow more or less the same formula: a slow build-up from an emotional, romance-style chant to a forceful, gargantuan, climactic chorus that'll definitely keep you up on your feet once you really paid attention. The feeling is especially strong on 'Lost Inside A Song', but 'Without A Word' seems to be a bit stronger in the way of melody, so it gets my vote as best song on the album. I strongly urge you to notice these songs if you ever get the record - they might seem generic at first, but they really grow on you, and Jack's singing has really never been better.
Apart from that, of particular notice are the album closer, 'Something To Live For', a nice, soothing ballad with impressive workouts by Tony - some more delightful synth crescendos, and I'm also fond of the title track, a weird, reggaeish shuffle with a strange pessimistic feel about it. But it's not that these songs really stand out: they're cute, that's all. And for my personal tastes, there's too much generic rock'n'roll stuff on here, same old dull mid-tempo rockers with artificially pumped out energy. 'Johnny B. '77', 'Madhouse', 'Outsiders', all of these things are throwaways; I guess that 'Baby Jane', which is actually the most 'pumped-up' track among these, is a throwaway too, even if it managed to earn itself a particular place on some rack in a far away corner of my overloaded brain. The guys really try to sound like they're incredibly cool and hip, but instead they're just losing it. And by 'losing it', I don't mean that these bombastic 'mid-hard-rockers' sounded out of fashion in 1977; I suppose they were quite fit for the average 'rock-lovin' public. After all, this fits somewhere in between Queen and Aerosmith, so why pretend that this is 'old fart' music? It isn't. It's just not terribly profound or, hell, not a bit useful. Add to this that the sparks don't really ignite until Bruce hits it with all his might on the operatic numbers described above, and you've got yourself a pretty dull chore to sit through.
Nevertheless, I agree with Wilson & Alroy that there's nothing offensive about the album, and I easily award it an overall rating of 10. For my money, no Jack Bruce Greatest collection should be ever complete without 'Without A Word' or 'Lost Inside A Song', either; the album is worth owning if only for these two minor masterpieces. And it'll never ruin your nerve system; no, no, in spite of everything I've said, be prepared for fourty minutes of enjoyment, unless you're in the punk camp and can't stand artsiness or mid-tempo at all. And if you want some Cream reminiscences, throw on the convincingly rendered blues number 'Waiting For The Call' and just bask in the glow of Jack's trusty harmonica.

Something to live for - your ideas

SOMETHIN ELS

Year Of Release: 1993
Overall rating = 8

A dull collection of modernistic tunes that alternate between adult pop and pointless experiments... that's about it.
Best song: WAITING ON A WORD

Bah. Technically speaking, this record is as close to a Cream reunion as possible; after long years of separation, Jack has, once again, teamed up with Pete Brown who contributes some bombastic, but not too exciting, lyrics; and not only that, he's managed to draft Eric Clapton in the studio to play lead guitar on many of the tracks (although Eric never gets around to do any singing). Moreover, the list of credits even includes Dick Heckstall-Smith, Jack's long-time partner in the Graham Bond Organization. With all these dudes hanging around, you'd think Somethin Els was going to be a nice retro throwback to the days of old...
No way. Yeah, Eric is here, all right, but that doesn't mean he's brought his old Cream style with him - and most of the solos are pretty dull, in his by now traditional thin-pitched, soulful style that on this particular occasion sounds completely generic and uninspiring. The lyrics are mostly forgettable. And the worst blow is that the production values are pure Nineties music - echoey effects on the guitars and keyboards, layers of unimaginative synths, electronic drums, all that crap.
But even these things would be tolerable, if only Jack had bothered to come up with any interesting melodies. As it is, the record drags along at such a ridiculously slow, lethargic, and monotonous tempo, that I personally caught myself falling asleep on it for about five or six times in one go. And the numbers seem to be more or less equally split in between three genres: (a) Nineties-updated blues/R'n'B ('Willpower'; 'G. B. Dawn Blues'); (b) bombastic, operatic ballads ('Waiting On A Word; Close Enough For Love'), occasionally bordering on cheesy ('Ships In The Night'; 'Childsong'); (c) horrendous 'experimental' numbers ('Peaces Of The East'; 'Criminality'). Completely out of ideas, Jack finishes off the record with a three-and-a-half-minutes piece of classical piano improvisation that's as blatantly amateurish and useless as possible. Imagine my disappointment.
Now that the categorization has been made, I'd like to give a bit more detailed runthrough through the material (hmm... I wonder if it's possible to say what I just said... then again, I can always pretend my English leaves a lot to be desired). To be honest, and to justify the rating of eight, I must say that a couple of ballads on here are really good. That is, 'Close Enough For Love' is way too operatic for a lot of people to truly appreciate it, but I must say that Bruce pulls off the bombast with enough credibility - his voice is just as fabulous as ever, and his singing in the verses is perhaps the most cathartic moment on the record. As for 'Waiting On A Word', I just like the tune's upbeat character: more great vocals, some inspiring Clapton licks and cheerful handclaps all contribute something to the sound, even if it's hardly essential. On the other hand, the French-pop-influenced, melancholic/melodramatic 'Ships In The Night' with its violins and female backup vocals was just made for MTV; I loathe the number, and not even Clapton's participation on that one can save the song. And when Maggie Reilly steps in to duet with Jack, beh... all hopes of Cream reunion are lost.
It's more soothing when we move on to the more rockin' material - for instance, 'Willpower' grooves along nicely to the sounds of a stingy guitar riff and a steady, powerhouse beat. But when one stoops to think about it, the song emerges as just another generic soul number a la modern Joe Cocker - recycled stuff that's oh so characteristic of washed-up Sixties' icons. The far shorter and less mastodontic 'G. B. Dawn Blues' is far more interesting, for that matter, if only for the warp-speed synth riff that underpins the simple bluesy pattern of the number. Come to think of it, only for the warp-speeded synth riff...
And the 'experimental' numbers? They're plain ugly. Think Frank Zappa's most dull atonal jams with Nineties' production values. 'Peaces Of The East' does sound a bit Easternish, but essentially it's just a couple synthesizer riffs imposed over each other and nonsensical lyrics that often get tape-looped to the effect that you feel something's wrong with your CD player (ooh, I hate it when artists come up with mystifications such as these!) And 'Criminality' is structured as a 'complex dance number' with more tape loops and silly excerpts from radio interviews thrown in.
In all, when the record comes to an end, you'll be completely exhausted - even if it's just fourty-one minute long. No amount of listening has been able to change my opinion of it; apart from the tracks showcasing Bruce's voice and some tiny moments, the stuff is just plain crap and to me, amply demonstrates that Bruce was heading in a completely wrong direction at a time. Strange enough, there are many people who actually like this, calling this the finest batch of tunes Jack had thrown out in quite a bit of time or something like that... dammit, some people are hard to understand. Failed experimentation and lots of boring cheese, mostly that. Gimme How's Tricks over this - any time of day or night.

Waiting on a word from you! Where are your ideas?


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