Remembering Delaney Bramlett, born on this day in 1939. —Ed.
Poor Eric Clapton. Having been through the supergroup wringer with Cream and Blind Faith, there was nothing he craved more than a little anonymity. No more “Clapton is God”; all he wanted to be was a player in a band that wasn’t being hyped to the stars, and where he could perform his six-string pyrotechnics in the background, as it were. Those are rich man problems, for sure, but Clapton was truly burnt out, and given the opportunity to tour with the American soul/rock/blues band Delaney and Bonnie Bramlett, he happily said yes. It was a respite and it paid off, as his guitar playing on the resulting LP, 1970’s On Tour with Eric Clapton, testified.
During the early seventies the Bramletts fronted a musical family that saw them taking in lots of famous orphans, including Duane Allman, George Harrison, Rita Coolidge, Dave Mason, and King Curtis. Despite a host of studio LPs Delaney and Bonnie were best regarded as an incendiary live act, one that led Clapton to not only say, “Delaney taught me everything I know about singing,” but “For me, going on [with Blind Faith] after Delaney and Bonnie was really, really tough, because I thought they were miles better than us.” In any event his time spent with Delaney and Bonnie was a happy one for the troubled musician.
On Tour with Eric Clapton didn’t just feature Clapton. In fact it was populated by a veritable who’s who of the best of rock’s supporting musicians, many of whom also played on that same year’s LP Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs by Clapton’s next project, Derek and the Dominos. You’ve got Dave Mason on guitar, Bobby Whitlock on organ and keyboards, Carl Radle on bass, Jim Gordon on drums, Bobby Keys on saxophone, Jim Price on trombone and trumpet, and Rita Coolidge on backing vocals; the folks who saw this iteration of the band live were lucky indeed.
Opener “Things Get Better” is a Booker T. and the M.G.’s song, and the band does Stax Records proud with a great horn section, Delaney and Bonnie’s soulful singing, and lots of funky organ by Bobby Whitlock. Things really do get better when Rita Coolidge throws in on vocals and Clapton rips into a guitar solo that never fails to sock my knocks off.
“Poor Elijah-Tribute to Johnson (Medley)” is more gospel funk than blues, despite the fact that it’s a tribute to Robert Johnson, the mysterious bluesman who made his pact with the devil at a crossroads that now probably is home to a massive home supply store and a Walmart. The vocals dominate, Clapton plays one super-tasty guitar solo, and then the song switches tracks but remains wonderfully up-tempo, with Delaney (whose “Ain’t nobody here!” is definitive) and Bonnie picking up speed and other voices joining in before Delaney slows things down to sing, “Just drinking your wine and lovin’ in slow motion” and the song comes to a stop.
“Only You Know and I Know” is a great song and single-handedly justifies the entire career of Dave Mason, the guy who gave us the awful “We Just Disagree.” A perky and up-tempo romp that would have sounded right at home on Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs, it highlights some raucous vocals and a guitar solo topped by horns and more horns, and just keeps rocking until the cows come home, unpack their suitcases, and put on their dancing shoes. The organ is cool too.
“I Don’t Want to Discuss It” is a fast-paced blue-eyed soul song that highlights the raucous southland-inflected vocal chops of Delaney Bramlett, to say nothing of the incendiary guitar of Eric Clapton. Slowhand rips a gaping hole in the universe on this one, and lets you see that behind the vale of Maya there awaits a diamond-studded paradise of euphoric and ecstatic epiphanies. I would cut off my arms for this song, no shit.
Bonnie Bramlett opens the bluesy “That’s What My Man Is For” by saying, “Hey would you give us some red light, because this is a red light song.” A torch song, in other words, and I’ve never been much for torch songs, although to be fair Bonnie’s vocals are wonderful, the backing singers are great, the rhythm section kicks ass, and the horns are mean. And Bonnie tosses enough erotic force into her vocals to set your trousers on fire, especially as she delivers some Janis Joplin screeches towards the end.
“Where There’s a Will There’s a Way” is pure jive, a funky number that moves like a snake and features great organ, fantastic vocals by D. & B., and some furious guitar work by Clapton. There’s an instrumental section that’s heavy on the percussion, then Delaney and Bonnie come back, to the accompaniment of some heavy bass, before Delaney takes it out in a series of ululations.
“Comin’ Home” is a wonderful tune, opening with the sense that there’s a repressed guitar rave-up waiting back there to happen. Meanwhile the duo are at their best, singing, “Comin’ home” over and over again until the horns come blaring in and the excitement quotient ups a good 82 percent. Then Clapton plays a rather understated but excellent solo that seems to end the song in feedback but is a false ending, as Delaney and Bonnie and the whole family kick into overdrive, with the vocals especially winning the frantic sweepstakes.
The album-closing “Little Richard Medley” opens with a dynamite “Tutti Frutti; they capture the pure id of the tune, written by the guy who said, “The only thing I like better than a big penis is a bigger penis.” Delaney burns his way through the lyrics while Clapton plays a ferocious solo. To be honest, I don’t even hear “Long Tall Sally” in there, but “The Girl Can’t Help It” and “Jenny Jenny” feature some unbridled honky-tonk sax solos, one great bass, and more rocket-propelled ’50s rock and roll of the sort that caused little girls to wet their knickers.
Here’s an interesting piece of trivia; the Rolls-Royce Silver Dawn on the cover of On Tour with Eric Clapton has Bob Dylan’s feet sticking out of it. Why? Who knows? Dylan would later, on his Rolling Thunder Revues, take up where Delaney and Bonnie left off—gather up your friends, work up some songs and take it on the road. But Rolling Thunder had no one of the caliber of Eric Clapton, and it tells.
It also lacked this album’s fantastic homespun feel; you get the sense of a family of gypsies, traveling about the country in a caravan and doing whatever they like, having a rollicking good time all the while. Because that’s what this LP is: a rollicking good time. Even the tortured Clapton, allowed to leave the spotlight and just take on the role of just another sideman, seems to be having fun. And isn’t that what rock’n’roll is all about?
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A
