The word “underrated” is belabored in music journalism, but Joey Molland was just that. As co-guitarist in Badfinger, he was part of a quartet signed to the Beatles’ Apple Records, yielding glorious AM hits like “Come and Get It,” “Day After Day,” and “No Matter What.” The foursome fell into obscurity and tragedy a few years later, but Badfinger is now regarded as one of the greatest power-pop acts. Molland, the band’s sole-surviving member, died March 1 from complications of diabetes. He was 77.
On guitar, Molland developed a slide style inspired by George Harrison’s innovative approach – devoid of blues and instead emphasizing melody. While the Quiet Beatle played the multi-tracked slide on the #4 single “Day After Day,” Molland delivered hook-laden bottleneck to “No Matter What.”
Badfinger further appeared on landmark albums like George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass and John Lennon’s Imagine, as well as the famed Concert for Bangladesh in 1971. Molland relocated to Minnesota after getting married and lived there for decades, working as a solo artist, with various Badfinger reconfigurations, and other projects.
In a 2020 interview with VG, Molland reflected on how his guitar style complemented that of Badfinger co-guitarist Pete Ham, saying, “We soloed on each others’ songs, so I played lead on ‘No Matter What’ and ‘Baby Blue,’ while Pete played lead on ‘Better Days’ and ‘Love Me Do.’ Pete was good at those little filler licks off the top of his head; I was good at those arpeggio chord licks, like ‘Baby Blue.’”
A humble and well-liked musician, Molland was an avid VG reader.
“I love this magazine,” he enthused. “I’ve read a lot of very interesting articles and love the photos. In fact, I’ve learned quite a bit about my own guitars and amps – so thanks!” – Pete Prown
This article originally appeared in VG’s May 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
This is the third album from rock veterans Adrian Smith (Iron Maiden) and Richie Kotzen (The Winery Dogs). The busy axeslingers – especially Kotzen, who is always involved in solo and band projects – released their full-length debut and an EP in 2021. Smith-Kotzen has happily blossomed into a going concern.
What’s interesting about Smith/Kotzen’s music is how it teeters between hard rock and heavy metal, but more the former. It’s a fine line, but they cite the importance of ’60s and ’70s influences like Cream and Humble Pie. Smith and Kotzen trade lead vocals and solos but often jump in for harmony parts, which gives the tracks a refreshing, anything-can-happen vibe. Kotzen’s wife, Julia Lage, plays bass on five cuts.
“White Noise” leaves some air in its arrangement, utilizing clean, biting chords and a marching guitar solo. Thrashing rhythm guitar, rippin’ leads from Richie and Adrian, and a hooky chorus push “Black Light.” An oddly effective riff, offbeat rhythm guitar, and blazing chops highlight “Wraith.” Not nearly as rebellious-sounding as its title, “Outlaw” could be ’80s melodic hard rock; the ballad “Beyond the Pale” shimmers with resonant riffs and acoustic textures.
Black Light/White Noise shows growth in its tighter, third-time’s-a-charm material. – Bret Adams
This article originally appeared in VG’s May 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
This traditional folk singer/guitarist’s solo debut is impressive. He’s been an educator at Chicago’s Old Town School of Folk Music for three decades, but his approach is by no means academic. He not only reveals the influence of folk and blues legends such as Doc and Merle Watson, Elizabeth Cotten, Etta Baker, Dave Van Ronk, Stefan Grossman, and John Renbourn, he brings them to life.
The set’s title comes from a line in “Delia,” the plaintive Blind Willie McTell ballad, presented sparingly by Walz. Mississippi John Hurt is tapped for the fingerpicking instrumental “Spanish Fandango.” Stephen Foster’s “Hard Times Come Again No More” dates to the 1800s. Serving time in the stage production of “Woody Guthrie’s American Song,” the Dust Bowl balladeer also figures prominently. Walz also performed in the Weavers tribute group Weavermania and played in bluegrass bands. The latter is highlighted on “Blue Ridge Mountain Blues,” “Going Across The Sea,” and “Been All Around This World.”
With Americana having become a catch-all and singer/songwriter treated like a genre (rather than a job description), it’s refreshing to find an unabashed folk artist who does the tradition proud. – DF
This article originally appeared in VG’s May 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
ls Cline long ago established a parallel career as an eclectic instrumentalist and contemporary jazz virtuoso. His fourth Blue Note album is an extended set that unveils Consentrik Quartet, his new band with acoustic bassist Chris Lightcap, drummer Tom Rainey, and tenor/soprano saxophonist Ingrid Laubrock.
Their concepts are ambitious and their sound is free, Cline allowing everyone ample room to explore the varied themes. Lightcap and Rainey provide a solid, creative framework for the Cline-Laubrock frontline, which flawlessly supports each other throughout. A prime example is “Satomi,” with Cline slipping in simple, effective rhythm licks behind Laubrock’s free-flowing improvisations. The mood turns pensive and somber on the ballad “Allende.” Cline’s soloing on “Time of No Sirens” includes impressive, well-placed harmonics.
The churning “The 23” allows Laubrock added solo space; Cline again adds well-placed rhythm licks before he steps forward with an inventive, witty break. Cline and Rainey open “Slipping into Something” gently and quietly before it evolves into a powerful, aggressive number with a bit of Cline/Laubrock call-and-response. “House of Steam” again explores the group’s strengths and ensemble skills. On “Inner Wall,” the song begins as a mesmerizing, unaccompanied drone before the full band brings it to a powerful, satisfying conclusion. – Rich Kienzle
This article originally appeared in VG’s May 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
John Mayall is invariably cited for the succession of guitar greats who passed through his band. But Charlie Musselwhite just might be the American equivalent. In a 60-year career, his six-stringers have included Harvey Mandel, Luther Tucker, Louis Myers, Tim Kaihatsu, Robben Ford, Fenton Robinson, Johnny Heartsman, Junior Watson, Andrew “Jr. Boy” Jones, John Wedemeyer, Charlie Sexton, Kid Andersen, and steel guitarist Freddie Roulette. He has also cut award-winning albums with Ben Harper and Elvin Bishop.
When Musselwhite hired Matt Stubbs in 2008, he said, “Just watch. He’s going to just keep getting better and better.” Indeed, Stubbs has staked his claim with Charlie and his own trio, GA-20. Backing blues harmonica is its own category, and beyond fretboard knowledge, Stubbs knows when to support and when to add a little sting. Dig his exaggerated vibrato on “Hip-Shakin’ Mama” and distorted tone on the title tune.
Andersen adds keyboards and joins or spells Stubbs on guitar for four tracks, including “Ghosts In Memphis” featuring rapper Al Kapone. And, Musselwhite not only hasn’t lost a step, the octogenarian is in top form, even playing slide á la Earl Hooker on “Blue Lounge.” – Dan Forte
This article originally appeared in VG’s May 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Vintage Guitar is happy to offer the premier of the new music video by Grammy nominee Duke Robillard. “Lowdown” is the first single from his upcoming album, Blast Off!, set for release February 20 on Nola Blue Records. “When thinking about a powerful song to launch the album, I chose a hard-rocking Tom Waits tune to highlight great times touring with him in 2006,” says Robillard. “The lyrics conjure strong visual images, making it perfect for a video. Kudos to William Hurley’s incredible eye and the talented crew from the Fallout Shelter, who did an amazing job capturing the vibe!” Joining Duke are Chris Cote (lead vocal and guitar), Bruce Bears (piano), Marty Ballou (bass), Mark Teixeira (drums), Doug James (sax), and Mark Earley (sax). You can pre-order the album at https://lnk.to/Blast-Off
I recently received two guitars as gifts and am trying to learn more about them. The first is a Harmony I believe is from the early ’70s. Its serial number is 6326H6365 and the label is also printed with “B1172.” The second is what I believe is a Goya-made Greco GR1 from the late ’60s with serial number 00215.
I’d like to know where they were made, their woods, a model name or number for Harmony, more-specific dating (from the number), and any other interesting details. – Jonathan Grand
The Harmony is a Folk H6365 in grand-concert size. This almost certainly has a solid spruce top with mahogany back and sides. The fretboard is rosewood, and the rosette should be a decal, not real inlay. The H6365 was made from 1972 to ’73/’74, but had a much older pedigree.
Harmony almost always dated its guitars with a rubber stamp, but the scheme was inconsistent. Yours is B1172, which probably indicates the model’s debut year (1972, definitely not 1911). It could be either February (B) or November (11), take your pick. The numbers before H6365 (6326) are an internal batch indication.
Harmony of Chicago was purchased to be a subsidiary of Sears, Roebuck & Co. in 1916, to meet demand for ukuleles following the Panama Pacific International Exposition in San Francisco, which ignited a rage for Hawaiian music. Sears divested itself of Harmony in 1940, and few guitars were made during World War II. Guitar production recommenced in 1948, and Harmony continued to produce Sears’ Silvertone guitars as a subcontractor, and also sold its own Harmony guitars separately.
Among Harmony’s first guitars in ’48 was the No. 165GC, the grandpappy of this guitar, differing only in that it had a mahogany top and a “pinless” bridge, where the string rollers fit into a groove at the back of the bridge. In ’58, it became the No. 165 with no significant changes, and in ’72 the 165 became your H6365, with the spruce top and the pin bridge. The H6365 is absent from the ’74 catalog and Harmony went bust in ’76.
The Goya Greco GR1 has a complicated history. A classical guitar with a solid spruce top (probably European), brown-stained maple back and sides, and a rosewood-stained hardwood fretboard. The GR1 was available at least by 1965 and was not offered in ’70. We can’t pin it down any closer than that.
Goya was created in the mid ’50s by New York City music distributor Hershman Musical Instrument Company to be put on a line of acoustic guitars made by the Levin company in Sweden, to meet the demand of the burgeoning folk-music scene. In 1963, Hershman spun off the Levin-made guitars into the subsidiary Goya Musical Instrument Corporation.
Jonathan Grand’s Harmony Folk H6365 and Greco GR1.
By ’65, the Folk Boom was in high gear and, to increase the supply of guitars, Levin began outsourcing production to workshops in Germany and Yugoslavia. Whether Levin owned these factories or was subcontracting is unknown. Guitars made by these suppliers were branded Greco rather than Goya. The GR1 was likely from a Yugoslavian factory.
What confuses this story is that Hershman/Goya began importing Goya electric guitars from Hagstrom around 1958 and by 1960 or ’61 had changed to importing Greco electrics from Kanda Shokai in Japan – copies of Swedish Hagstrom and Italian Eko designs made by FujiGen Gakki, Matsumoku, and Teisco. Greco acoustics were always European.
In 1966, Avnet Inc. purchased Guild guitars, and in ’68, Avnet/Guild purchased Goya and Levin. In ’69, they were sold to Kansas-based Kustom Guitars, and in ’74 the whole kit and kaboodle went to Martin Guitars, but yours is one of the original Hershman/Goya/Levin/Croatia run from the mid ’60s. – Michael Wright
A former guitar student who I hadn’t seen in 20 years and is now 91 years old recently gifted two guitars to me. One is a ’60s Barclay electric, but despite doing a fair amount of research and asking several vintage dealers, the other is a mystery. The label inside reads “Cibson,” which I’ve never heard of. – Jerry King
Your guitar is obviously meant to copy an early Gibson. I would guess it was made in Japan, as American companies never really copied each other. It sure looks like a production guitar, though it could have been made by an individual (though you’d expect higher quality).
There are plenty of clues that prove it’s not a Gibson, foremost being that its wood is laminated/pressed (not carved), the sound holes are not bound, and the odd trapeze tailpiece. Also, Gibson never used that translucent tortoiseshell plastic for its pickguards, and the tuners look to be Japanese or European.
Gibson did use Bakelite knobs like those in 1939, but after World War II they became lucite. The duckbill select doesn’t match the knobs; early two-pickup Gibsons used a selector that I suspect (but don’t know) was a rotary three-way with another regular lucite knob. A small duckbill was used on the bout on a few early Les Pauls, but it was quickly changed to the familiar toggle.
The P-90 pickup first appeared after World War II, with Alnico magnets and the “staple” polepieces.
Japanese guitar companies didn’t begin copying American designs until the end of the ’60s, and it didn’t really catch on until the early ’70s. Several Japanese brand names were created to imitate Gibson, including Gaban and Gibbon, but I’ve never seen Cibson. Curiously, Gaban and Gibbon guitars were outfitted with faux humbuckers like on your guitar, with pole pieces along the edge.
I’d guess this was made by a Japanese firm that got hold of old Gibson catalogs and put this together probably in the very late ’60s or early ’70s.
I’m guessing it was for the domestic Japanese market, and no Japanese guitars sold here claimed to be made in U.S.A. However, if you were selling them in Nagasaki, it would make them that much cooler, and no one would be the wiser. A lot of Japanese guitars were brought back to the U.S. by soldiers who were stationed there after WWII and through Viet Nam. – Michael Wright
This column addresses questions about guitar-related subjects, ranging from songs, albums, and musicians to the minutiae of instrument builds, manufacturers, and the collectible market. Questions can be sent to ward@vintageguitar.com with “VG Q&A” in the subject line.
This article originally appeared in VG’s May 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Carlos Alomar onstage with Bowie in Brussels on the Low/“Heroes” tour in 1978. Carlos Alomar/David Bowie 1978: Gie Knaeps/UPP Zuma Press.
David Bowie was always creatively restless. The English musician decided to step away from the glam rock he’d recorded for a few albums concluding with 1974’s Diamond Dogs, which included a few songs with tinges of soul, R&B, and funk. On tour promoting the album, he played a handful of soul covers.
Bowie had long been a fan of soul music and was listening to more of it. For what would be his ninth studio album, he wanted to show that influence. Young Americans – with the #1 hit “Fame” with special guest John Lennon – was the result, but getting there required several steps.
Bowie wanted to use Mother Father Sister Brother (MFSB), the conglomerate of 30-plus session musicians based at Philadelphia’s Sigma Sound Studios. MFSB had recently topped the Billboard singles chart with “TSOP (The Sound of Philadelphia),” the theme of the television show “Soul Train.”
Guitarist Carlos Alomar, who had toured with James Brown and the Main Ingredient, recorded with Bowie on Young Americans then went on to play on 10 more albums with him, told Vintage Guitar how they met and ultimately began working on the album at Sigma Sound. Young Americans – recently remastered for a vinyl reissue for its 50th anniversary – was recorded mostly live in the studio in about two weeks. A few musicians were retained from the Diamond Dogs touring band.
“What we had was two completely different groups,” Alomar said. “I got together with David before that because he was producing Lulu. So, I was able to hang out with him and invite him to the Apollo Theater to see me perform with the Main Ingredient. David already came in with (background vocalists) Ava Cherry and Geoff MacCormack, or Warren Peace, as he was known then. So, they had their little contingency there.
“David wanted the Philly sound, but he told me, ‘If you want to change the sound, change the band.’ It made all the sense in the world. You want soul music, you get a whole band. But [MFSB] basically said, ‘Screw you, mister. We don’t know who the hell you are.’ That’s when he finally said, ‘Carlos, I can’t get them. I want to go to Philly.’ I said, ‘Oh, I got some people.’ That’s when we got into the studio, and that’s when it actually all started.”
The core musicians on Young Americans were Bowie on lead vocals, guitar, and keyboards, Alomar on guitar, and Cherry on background vocals. Others at various times included pianist Mike Garson, saxophonist David Sanborn, guitarist Earl Slick, bassists Willie Weeks and Amir Kassam, drummers Andy Newmark and Dennis Davis, along with background vocalists Robin Clark (Alomar’s wife) and Luther Vandross; Alomar and Vandross had previously worked together.
Though Bowie’s blue-eyed soul paid tribute to Black American music, he self-deprecatingly coined the term “plastic soul” to describe the sound of Young Americans, implying he didn’t believe he could authentically play it as a white Englishman.
“Let’s put two things together – intellect and the ability to promote yourself,” Alomar said. “I mean, those are David Bowie qualities, aren’t they? Once you started thinking about the code words he was using, you realized he used them specifically because he knows they are a brand. Even now, 50 years later, we’re talking about ‘plastic soul.’
“It is true that in morphing something into your own, you cannot label it as such because you can kill the messenger, and publicity-wise, that would kill it. So, to humbly create a word that indicates your intent… I think it makes all the sense in the world: ‘I am not really black, so I can’t really say I’m going to do soul music. But if I call it “plastic soul,” although they might laugh in their hand, they won’t reject it.’ I think it was very clever.”
The R&B-drenched title track features the background vocalists.
“We started off ‘Young Americans’ with a few takes, but Mike Garson changed the feel and went into that Latin kind of feel. Once that happened, the fluidity of the song really took on a life of its own,” Alomar said. “There were no background vocals at that time. While we were sitting in the console room, David overheard Luther and Robin playing around with background parts, and one of them was that booming, ‘All right!’ Man, the minute he heard that, he was like, ‘Excuse me, love. Will you do that again? Would you mind doing that on the mic? That’s wonderful.’ That was it.”
The outer-space funk rocker “Fame” and cover of the Beatles’ “Across the Universe” were recorded at Electric Lady Studios, in New York City. “Fame” was co-written by Bowie, Alomar, and Lennon (who added backing vocals and acoustic guitar) and became Bowie’s first U.S. #1 single.
“The origins of ‘Fame,’ for me, was when I was with the Main Ingredient, which had a song called ‘You Can Call Me Rover,’” Alomar recalled. “It had this beat that was done by either the horn section or the string section. It wasn’t a predominant part, but it made the song for me.
“I had a mentor, George Stubbs, and he introduced me to the Reuben Phillips Orchestra, at the Apollo Theater. I had another influence – a wonderful guitarist named Buzzy Feiten, who I met when Robin was working with his band, and he was very funky. All of these influences led me to create this part. When I started revisiting that little Main Ingredient lick I’d created, I found myself doing (the Flares’) ‘Foot Stomping,’ which is a blues song. It doesn’t really go anywhere. So I decided, ‘Let me funk it up a little bit with that line.’”
Among Alomar’s favorite tracks are outtakes including “Who Can I Be Now?” and “It’s Gonna Be Me.” They were eventually released, and he calls them the “height of [Bowie’s] soulful expression.”
Alomar’s gear was simple on Young Americans – a Gibson ES-335, Fender Twin Reverb, and a wah pedal. “The sound of the middle switch position of the Gibson is what you wanted to cut through the room,” he said. Alomar will honor Bowie and Davis (both of whom died in 2016 at 69 and 64, respectively) by playing a European tour this summer with bassist George Murray; they and Davis made up Bowie’s rhythm section from 1975 to ’80. Dubbed the D.A.M. Trilogy Back to Berlin tour, it will include songs from Bowie’s “Berlin albums” trilogy – Low, “Heroes,” and Lodger.
This article originally appeared in VG’s May 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Eric Clapton in Cream, 1967: Pictorial Press Ltd/Alamy. Fool SG: John Peden/VG Archive. To read the complete story of Clapton’s The Fool SG, including Todd Rundgren’s recollections on acquiring and owning it, go to www.vintageguitar.com/12684/claptons-fool.
Jack Bruce claimed Cream was two bands – live trio and studio group. Live, bassist Bruce, guitarist Eric Clapton, and drummer Ginger Baker were renowned for their highly improvisatory, powerful performance that was unprecedented in rock. Moreover, they were actually a jazz group (“…we just didn’t tell Eric,” Bruce said), as exemplified by their excursions on blues-rock and pop songs with interactions stretched to the breaking point by Clapton’s virtuosic blues-based solos, Bruce’s complex contrapuntal lines, and Baker’s imaginative, dynamic play.
In the studio, Cream created the ambitious, progressive, exploratory original material on Wheels of Fire, Goodbye, and the archetypal Disraeli Gears. Boasting boldness and innovation, colorful psychedelic artwork, an inscrutable title (a malaprop of a bicycle’s gear derailleur) and defining tracks “Sunshine of Your Love,” “Tales of Brave Ulysses” and “Strange Brew,” Disraeli Gears burst on the scene in November, 1967. It marked their finest hour – the metamorphosis of British Invasion pop into hard blues, progressive rock, and prototypical metal.
A genuine supergroup, Cream’s three musicians were deified in England, as implied by the name: “Cream of the crop.” In America, though, they were unknown when they debuted on Murray the K’s “Music in the 5th Dimension” concert series (March/April ’67) at the RKO 58th Street theatre in New York. Atlantic Records’ Ahmet Ertegun seized the opportunity to bring Cream (on subsidiary Atco) into the studio on April 3 to record “Lawdy Mama.” Encouraged by the results, he booked their return the following month to complete an album. Legendary engineer Tom Dowd, famed for recording Ray Charles and John Coltrane, ran the eight-track tape equipment but, accustomed to small studio amplifiers, was taken unprepared for Cream’s massive Marshall stacks, double bass drums, and sheer volume. Unhappy with their new progressive direction and departure from traditional blues material, Ertegun enlisted producer/musician Felix Pappalardi, more conversant with contemporary rock, as liaison. Real Cream began with Disraeli Gears, 11 tracks recorded in three days between May 8-19 while on a short visa; testament to their growing tightness and the conducive atmosphere of Atlantic’s studio.
Eric Clapton
Some material was culled from a missing March ’67 demo recorded at London’s Spot studio. Bruce presumed manager/producer Robert Stigwood suppressed the tape, feeling the music was uncommercial, overly modern, and directionless. Nonetheless, the demo emerged and four tunes deemed suitable were revisited, rearranged and re-recorded in May. Two of the most innovative but rejected songs later appeared in ’69 on Bruce’s first solo album and another on Question of Time (1990) while other tracks were added to the ’97 Cream compilation Those Were the Days.
“Strange Brew” featured Clapton’s lead vocals – his first on a single. Ertegun perceived EC as frontman and encouraged him to assume greater singing duties. His original 12-bar blues began as “Lawdy Mama” from the April session. Cream recorded two versions – a triplet-based shuffle closer to a Junior Wells/Buddy Guy contrafact, and a straight-four rock take. The latter was reworked into a pop song by co-writers Pappalardi and his wife, Gail Collins. Cream’s last single on the Reaction label (May ’67 U.K., July U.S.), it reached #17 in England. Journalists praised EC’s evolving blues style. Beyond prominent Freddie King/Buddy Guy mannerisms of his Beano period, he flaunted references to Albert King in the enriched 7#9 chords, underlying funkiness, and allusions to “Pretty Woman” in the solo with taut rhythmic punctuations and wide string bends. It remains an iconic piece in Clapton’s catalog.
“Sunshine of Your Love,” composed by Clapton, Bruce, and lyricist Pete Brown, melded hard rock, electric blues, and psychedelia. Cream’s most successful single (#5 U.S.), it was initially dismissed by Atlantic executives as “psychedelic hogwash,” but championed by Atco artists Booker T. Jones and Otis Redding, which helped earn re-evaluation. Bruce’s bluesy bass riff in D was his dedication to Hendrix (after seeing him at London’s Saville Theater) and remains one of the heaviest themes to menace Top 40 radio. Clapton contributed the driving eight-bar three-chord (A-C-G) chorus, expanding traditional I-IV changes into seminal hard rock that would inspire metal. Dowd suggested the tom-tom beat, which provided a distinctive one-and-three rhythmic emphasis, heavier than the two-and-four backbeat of most blues-rock. Clapton’s solo is among his most definitive, mixing blues and rock ingredients with a humorous opening quote of “Blue Moon.”
“Strange Brew” epitomized Cream’s penchant for reinventing blues in a hard-rock context. In the solo, Clapton reshapes the Albert King influence into a striking new but related descendant. He offers jabbing space-conscious lines – explicit in the rests separating his phrases – that morph Am pentatonic blues melody with rock intensity. Right out the gate, he pays homage to Albert with extremely wide string bends in the first three bars. These bends are a direct allusion to King and have since become staples of rock and metal. Note the variation of thematic blues licks from his intro solo in measures 6 and 11-12.
“World of Pain,” a Pappalardi/Collins song, meanders through an atypical chord progression and develops a psychedelic folk-rock-blues atmosphere heightened by amorphous harmony, feel changes, obscure lyrics, and Clapton’s use of the wah pedal. The track features elaborate overdubbed guitar parts. EC superimposes light wah colorations over emphatic strumming in verses and plays double-tracked blues lines and more-urgent rhythm guitar in choruses. His solo (1:37) and outro (2:42) are emblematic of the era’s loose double-lead orchestration, heard earlier in “Sweet Wine” and later in Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath. The free counterpoint of two overlapping guitars over Eric’s strumming and counter-line riff generates a dizzying soundscape in which the whole is greater than sum of the parts.
“Dance the Night Away,” a Bruce/Brown composition, bears the distinction of Clapton’s first use of a 12-string with Cream. Unlike an added/alternate timbre typical of Beatles’ and Byrds’ music, the guitars are electric, surpassing folk-rock’s jangle-pop quotient with extensive arpeggiations and strumming. EC expands the arrangement with tremolo-picked melodies reminiscent of raga rock in instrumental bridges (thematic solos) between verses for a decidedly ethnic effect in the otherwise tightly structured pop song.
“Blue Condition,” Ginger Baker’s original from Cream’s March demo, was prompted by encouragement from Clapton and Bruce and is the only Baker piece on the record. He handles lead vocals, though an outtake exists with Clapton singing. The song develops a plodding blues-rock mood with a slow 12/8 groove in G and rootsy urban/country blues gestures epitomized in EC’s restrained parallel-sixth and arpeggio figures. Only two chords are used (G in verses, C in choruses) assuring a minimal harmonic framework enlarged with restrained Clapton fills in the chorus and only one element of sophistication – the shifting 12/8-15/8-12/8 meters to accommodate Baker’s “no variation” phrase.
“Tales of Brave Ulysses” (B-side of “Strange Brew”) is a collaboration between Clapton and neighbor Martin Sharp, who designed the covers of Disraeli Gears and Wheels of Fire. The merging of Sharp’s mythological poetry and EC’s music, based on Lovin’ Spoonful’s “Summer in the City” progression, marks the official debut of the wah pedal in rock. Clapton’s “talking wah” approach inspired Hendrix and Zappa, foreshadowed “White Room” (which bears a similar descending progression: D-C-B-Bb) and Hendrix’s “Burning of the Midnight Lamp,” and continues to be a prevalent effect in rock, R&B and pop.
Clapton’s solo in “The Sunshine of Your Love” is iconic in rock history. This excerpt, played over the blues-oriented verse changes, features his woody flute-like tone and stands as a prime example of his scale-blending approach; note the mix of major and minor pentatonic sounds throughout. Particularly intriguing are the wide string bends in measures 9-10, the laid-back blues phrasing in 11-12, and the humorous “Blue Moon” quote that opens the solo.
“SWLABR” (She Was Like A Bearded Rainbow) sprang from a newspaper story of a scorned lover defacing his woman’s portrait. The Bruce/Brown composition was selected from the March demo, became the B-side of “Sunshine of Your Love,” and anticipates prog rock and metal styles. Animated by strong rhythmic accents, syncopations, shifting 4/4, 3/4 and 6/4 meter and unpredictable phrase lengths, it exploits Clapton’s “woman tone” for a vocalesque effect. The timbre is heard prominently in verse riffs, fills, and EC’s thematic blues-based double-tracked solo (1:17).
“We’re Going Wrong,” Bruce’s original from the demo, is a languid ballad with dark undertones enhanced by Clapton’s slinky woman-tone lines weaving through and complementing Bruce’s mournful vocals. The minimal lyrics are fleshed out with modal changes in E, an imaginative collision of minor-blues and major diatonic harmony, over a slower 3/4 groove and Baker’s incongruous hyperactive drumming. This was one of few Disraeli tunes to be played live (’67 BBC and 2005 Royal Albert Hall reunion), as most were dropped in favor of concert pieces that engendered lengthy improvisation.
“Outside Woman Blues” repurposes Arthur Reynolds’ 1929 recording, “Blind Joe.” Arranged and sung by Clapton, it exemplifies what he called “blues, ancient and modern,” the transformative updating heard on “Spoonful,” “Crossroads” and “Sitting on Top of the World” in Cream, pursued regularly throughout his career. The most traditional and harmonically simple piece on Disraeli Gears (only I and V chords occur in the 12-bar form), it reflects his devotion to the blues in a turbulent progressive period in rock, and was later performed onstage as solo artist. Faithful to the blues idiom, EC’s adaptations include mixed-mode rock riff in verses, extended 7#9 voicings, and thoughtful overdubbed guitars, particularly a thematic fill-in parallel octaves and thirds, again exploiting the woman tone. The definitive Clapton solo (1:30) contains stuttering rhythms, string bends, and soulful legato phrasing.
“Take It Back,” another Bruce/Brown piece from the demo, is a veiled protest to the Vietnam War, complete with crowd sounds and rendered as an altered-blues shuffle in D. Clapton assumes a rhythm-guitar ensemble role reminiscent of Chicago blues, allowing Bruce’s harmonica to function as lead instrument. EC plays the opening single-note riff an octave above Bruce, comps throughout, adds light chordal fills and sixth-interval patterns with an overdubbed guitar in choruses, and provides a solid R&B chord figure during the contrasting straight-four feel change for Bm verse sections.
In contrast to “Strange Brew” and “Sunshine of Your Love,” “Tales of Brave Ulysses” was futuristic and psychedelic and foreshadowed a new era. The first song to exploit the wah pedal, it serves as a virtual textbook of Clapton’s early wah playing. This excerpt features his playing in the aggressive hard-rock sections of the verse over the now-standard D5-Dsus2/C-G6/B-Bb6#11 progression. Against this pattern, EC plays a descending single-note line shadowing the changes and rocking the wah pedal in time. In measures 3-6, he adopts a looser talking-wah approach, moving the pedal in steady quarter-note rhythm while playing punchy blues licks in A minor pentatonic.
“Mother’s Lament,” spoofing English pub singalongs, taps into the droll Gilbert & Sullivan cabaret schtick of the genre, but goes further. Essentially a Cockney-laced vocal number with light piano, it seemed an odd piece to end an album of such consequence, but, typical of the ’60s freewheeling attitude. Sung in jest by Cream at an NYC bar between sessions, it stuck and served as whimsical closer.
Session photos reveal Clapton used two guitars – a black Les Paul Custom with three humbuckers and his ’64 Gibson SG Standard, “The Fool,” which replaced the Les Paul Standard played on Fresh Cream, seen on their “Ready Steady Go!” TV appearance in late ’66 then stolen in March ’67. Originally Cherry Red, its stock Vibrola tailpiece was converted to a screwed-down trapeze-type frame, and it was given an emblematic Summer of Love finish. The artwork EC called “a psychedelic fantasy,” was commissioned by Robert Stigwood and painted by Dutch artists Simon and Marijke, who later became known as The Fool design collective. The reference to the tarot card signifying truth, spiritual meaning, and the circle in which all things gravitate, grew into a visual metaphor for Eric’s authentic blues style reaching universal significance in pop culture. The first such painted guitar, it began a trend of artist-painted instruments such as Harrison’s “Rocky” Strat, Lennon’s J-160E, and Hendrix’s Flying V. Associated with Cream at the its zenith, it was played prominently in ’67-’68, given to Harrison then passed to Jackie Lomax by mid ‘68, and purchased by Todd Rundgren in ’71 for $500. Cited by Darren Julien as “one of the most important guitars in all of rock history,” it fetched $1.27 million at Julien’s November 2023 sale and holds the world record for the most-expensive of EC’s guitars to be auctioned.
Wolf Marshall is the founder and original Editor-In-Chief of GuitarOne magazine. A respected author and columnist, he has been influential in contemporary music education since the early 1980s. His latest book is Jazz Guitar Course: Mastering the Jazz Language. Others include 101 Must-Know Rock Licks, B.B. King: the Definitive Collection, and Best of Jazz Guitar. A list credits can be found at wolfmarshall.com.
This article originally appeared in VG’s May 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
The latest from blues dynamo Popa Chubby is a star-studded tribute to the late great Freddie King. Produced by Mr. Chubby and Mike Zito, I Love Freddie King is a blues guitar love-fest covering some of King’s most potent and popular songs. With Popa fronting the band on guitar and vocals, guests include Eric Gales, Christone “Kingfish” Ingram, and Joe Bonamassa.
While King’s best-known ditties like “Hideaway,” “I’m Going Down,” “The Stumble,” and “San Ho Zay” get workouts with the help of Bonamassa, Arthur Neilson, and Albert Castiglia, Chubby raises the bar going toe-to-toe with the fiery Eric Gales on “My Credit Didn’t Go Through.” The dueling continues on “Big Legged Woman” starring Christone Ingram. Kingfish’s soulful dexterity is magnificently offset by Chubby’s heartfelt vocals and sinewy guitar lines.
Mike Zito adds savage blues licks to “She’s a Burglar,” while Chubby’s guitar tone is triple-thick on “I’m Going Down.” Joe Bonamassa unleashes pentatonic fury in a dazzling display of guitarmanship. While the album’s production is uneven in spots, and the guest solos sound flown in, the love, respect, and passion for one of America’s most underrated blues artists shines as a fine homage. – OJ
This article originally appeared in VG’s May 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
