Eric Clapton 5: Rainbow Concert

Credit Pete Townshend for trying to get Eric Clapton back to regular work instead of succumbing to his heroin addiction. This entailed assembling an all-star band to back him for a pair of shows at London’s Rainbow Theater. In addition to himself, the other musicians were erstwhile Traffic members Steve Winwood, Jim Capaldi, Rebop Kwaku Baah, and Ric Grech, plus Ron Wood and the elusive Jimmy Karstein. All were prominently listed on the cover of Eric Clapton’s Rainbow Concert, released nine months later by a label that had already been busy recycling Clapton recordings.

All-star concerts are often more notable for who’s playing rather than how well they play, and the six songs here aren’t exactly mind-blowing. After a half-decent “Badge” and a run through the Dominos rarity “Roll It Over”, Stevie sings “Presence Of The Lord.” He takes the lead on Traffic’s “Pearly Queen”, which manages to hold together despite the full stage before galloping to a finish. “After Midnight” is somewhat plodding, but “Little Wing” benefits from the extra players, and they’re mostly in tune. (Reports that several vocals were overdubbed after the fact have not been disproved.)

Coming soon after the Dominos live album, Rainbow Concert wasn’t much more than a cash grab with star power to move it, and so it remained. Following Clapton’s resurgence in the ‘90s, the eventual remastered CD was filled nearly to capacity with further performances from the two shows, reconstructed to approximate a true setlist. Unfortunately, they did so by editing down the songs that were on the original album, which was short to begin with, and leaving out two others from the original night. (Did we really need to hear Townshend ribbing an unamused Capaldi between numbers about an alleged STD?)

That said, the new version is certainly listenable, if not a true document. We hear an emcee introduce “Eric Clapton and the Palpitations,” and they rip right into “Layla”. “Blues Power” and “Key To The Highway” allow for more dueling and noodling, and Stevie nicely takes the high parts on “Bottle Of Red Wine” and “Tell The Truth”. The two drummers can’t cop Jim Gordon’s backwards beat on “Bell Bottom Blues”, but they trade off with Rebop for the middle of “Let It Rain”. All told, it’s better, but not exactly essential.

Eric Clapton Eric Clapton’s Rainbow Concert (1973)—2½
1995 Chronicles remaster: “same” as 1973, plus 8 extra tracks

Stomu Yamashta: Go

Steve Winwood was relatively quiet in the years following the end of Traffic, before gearing up for the solo career that would ultimately bring him a higher love. His first real project was a rather adventurous one, and one that still dwells in relative obscurity today.

A truly odd gathering of musicians, Go was billed as a collaboration between Japanese percussionist Stomu Yamashta, Winwood and Santana drummer Michael Shrieve, in that order. As if that wasn’t enough, their eponymous album also included contributions from Tangerine Dream’s Klaus Schulze on synthesizers, Pat Thrall and Al DiMeola on lead guitars, Junior Marvin from Bob Marley’s Wailers on rhythm, Traffic’s Rosko Gee on bass, backing vocals by Thunderthighs, and string arrangements from none other than Paul Buckmaster. Taken all together, Go melds jazz fusion, synth prog, and even, given the year, disco for an end result that should fail horribly, but doesn’t.

Like all concept albums, good or bad, there’s a story, which isn’t easy to follow considering that it begins on side two. Lyrics for all tracks save one are credited to Michael Quartermain, if that is his real name. And even once you get the story (travel through space and time, good vs. evil, what is the nature of man, how can you mend a broken heart and so forth) you don’t really care; it’s the music that matters.

A suitably spacey intro brings in “Solitude”, which turns into “Nature” in time for Winwood’s first, tentative vocal. Similarly, “Air Over” is a setup for “Crossing The Line”, a more straightforward rock song. “Man Of Leo” is pretty dated funk, but some typical tasty Hammond organ work, melding to DiMeola’s solo workout for “Stellar”, punctuated by seemingly random clanging that will inspire fans of Blazing Saddles to exclaim “The sheriff is near!” The story presumably ends with the extended extraterrestrial effects of “Space Theme”.

Lots more space sounds dominate side two, through “Carnival” which is meant to evoke Stravinsky, but might be better appreciated with “Atom Heart Mother” or “Saucerful Of Secrets” as a point of reference. Winwood returns halfway through the side with some truly mushmouthed vocals on “Ghost Machine”, a brisk number that ends almost as quickly. “Surf Spin” floats around to set up “Time Is Here”, an aimless jam for a “seize the day” message, while “Winner/Loser”, credited solely to Winwood, has a contemporary Elton John vibe, but also sounds the most like the natural follow-up to the last Traffic album.

Most of the participants would go on to perform and release the suite (in its correct order, with extended solos) for the self-explanatory Go — Live From Paris, and most save Winwood would return on Go Too. The albums have appeared on CD, sometimes combined into a complete set, but the original LP, with its wonky sequence and booklet, is still preferred.

Stomu Yamashta/Steve Winwood/Michael Shrieve Go (1976)—3

Traffic 8: When The Eagle Flies

Of all the Traffic albums, When The Eagle Flies has always been the most obscure. Coming as it did at the end of their tenure, and with no real standout track, it’s often been overlooked. It’s a depressing, even spooky album, partially due to the line drawings, reminiscent of children’s illustrator Garth Williams. And as with every one of their other releases of the decade, there was another lineup, stripped to a quartet. Jim Capaldi went back to the drumkit, turning in an excellent performance, while band newcomer Rosko Gee took over on bass. Reebop plays a few of his congas, but wouldn’t make the cover art.

It gets off to a snappy start with “Something New”, which sounds a lot bigger than it is thanks to all the overdubbed guitars and horns. Lest we get too comfortable, “Dream Gerrard” is eleven minutes of noodling under a repeated sax riff, Mellotron off a King Crimson record, and some very primitive synth bloops and bleeps. The extended jazzy end is quite Crim-like as well. The bloops continue on “Graveyard People”, which probably made for a nice effect in 1974, but now only distract from the funk.

If anyone knows any song from this album, it’s probably “Walking In The Wind”, which fades in on obvious effects to a catchy bass and piano duo; therefore sounding more like the band we’d come to know. “Memories Of A Rock N’ Rolla” is another lament of the traveling lifestyle, tackled better by other songs. This one lopes along glumly until shifting abruptly into an upbeat groove reminiscent of Chicago. It’s been said that the basic tracks of the album were recorded live on a short tour before being embellished in the studio; this is most apparent on “Love”, which meanders amid questions about the key before finding its way to an actual tune and disappearing. Finally, the agitated title track doubles the piano with the organ for an ecological lament, mixing in what sounds like radio transmission and fading away.

When The Eagle Flies didn’t make much of a splash, and the band—or what was left of it this time—split soon after. Capaldi and Winwood would collaborate on each other’s albums, Stevie eventually having more success than anyone else. Chris Wood died in 1983, not long after Reebop. There would be another Traffic album in 1994, but we shan’t speak of that other to say that it was Traffic in name only. Various compilations over the years attempted to distill the band to a single set, Smiling Phases and Gold arguably the most successful, being double CDs, but aren’t identical, and skew either side of early and late. Their legacy shouldn’t end here, but their constantly evolving nature always made them seem fleeting anyway.

Traffic When The Eagle Flies (1974)—2½

Traffic 7: Shoot Out At The Fantasy Factory

Another album, another lineup—but as long as Steve Winwood, Chris Wood and Jim Capaldi were around, it was still Traffic. Outside of its cover design, Shoot Out At The Fantasy Factory doesn’t share much more with its predecessor; for one, the Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section fills up the back, while Reebop thumps along happily on his congas. Overall, it sounds more slick, not folky enough, and generally dull.

The title track crashes out of the gate, with a few nasty guitar riffs, establishing a groove but not much else. Oh, except for the police siren halfway through. Apparently Stevie just wanted to jam, and he does. That’s six minutes right there, and the rest of the side is given over to “Roll Right Stones”. This one begins with a pretty piano part, over which Stevie “doo-doos” wordlessly, then the track goes in another direction for the verse. There’s a lengthy jam over the chorus, where Chris Wood gets to put his sax through a wah-wah again, to a flatulent degree, and right about where you think it should fade, it goes back to another verse. Where “The Low Spark Of High-Heeled Boys” mesmerizes, this just refuses to end.

“Evening Blue” tries to recall the folkier moments of their catalog, but for the damn congas mixed so high. “Tragic Magic” is a showcase for Chris Wood, neither tragic nor particularly magical. Don’t bother waiting for the lyrics, because there aren’t any; instead, there’s a big horn section to drive to the quick (after six minutes) fade. And with another flourish of the congas, perhaps the album can be summed up best by the final track. A title like “(Sometimes I Feel So) Uninspired” is a carrot for any critic, but it’s saved by the chords and performance, and there’s the general impression that they’re trying to impress. Here, finally, toes will tap for the first time since the beginning of side one.

One desperately wants to like Shoot Out At The Fantasy Factory, but the players don’t make it easy. Sure, the album sounds great, but unfortunately smooths over any grit that could keep it from being a little bland. Except for the title track, everything is in the same moderate (read: not fast) tempo, and the famed funky rhythm section seems to exist just to keep time. Maybe those stereotypes about Jamaica are accurate. Jim Capaldi can sure shake that tambourine, though.

The expanded band toured, with Barry Beckett playing extra keyboards, and released a live set later in the year. On The Road presents lengthy, slightly faster versions of six already lengthy songs over two records (except in America, where it was edited a single LP, but that’s been rectified for the CDs). There’s not much of an improvement on the studio versions, unless a 20-minute version of “Glad” and “Freedom Rider” or 17 minutes of “Low Spark” excite you. “Tragic Magic” isn’t bad, but “(Sometimes I Feel So) Uninspired” is all too apt until Stevie lets it rip on the guitar after the last vocal.

Traffic Shoot Out At The Fantasy Factory (1973)—2
Traffic On The Road (1973)—2½

Jim Capaldi: Oh How We Danced

Because Steve Winwood was so dominant throughout every incarnation of the band, it can be easy to overlook Jim Capaldi’s contribution to Traffic, particularly in the years when he ceded the drumkit and limited himself to tambourine and the rarest lead vocal. But a simple glance at the song credits from each of their albums sees him listed as co-composer throughout. Obviously he was important enough to Steve to have him in the band, even when he was just banging a tambourine.

His first solo album apparently came about due to a Traffic stop (sorry, not sorry) due to Steve’s health issues, but Oh How We Danced is key to the larger story because much of it was recorded in Muscle Shoals, with lots of input from that band’s rhythm section, plus plenty of contributions from the rest of Traffic and consistent but not overly showy guitar work from Free’s Paul Kossoff. Musically it’s not very adventurous, but it is entertaining, and that’s the point.

“Eve” (pronounced “ee-vee”) is a sweet and simple love song that builds nicely from the quiet beginning, encompassing a guitar solo and before you know it there’s a horn section. “Big Thirst” has a co-write credit for Dave Mason, and foreshadows some of the moodier Traffic pieces to come. Along with moody strings, there’s a nice counterpoint with Sunny Leslie harmonizing on the choruses. While intended to boogie, “Love Is All You Can Try” deserves a better backing than what it gets, particularly with the track-length guitar solo fighting for space in the mix with Barry Beckett’s piano. “Last Day Of Dawn” is proto-disco, but redeems itself with the self-harmony on the choruses, and boy, is it catchy.

“Don’t Be A Hero” stays down and somber until Dave Mason’s guitar solo breaks in some harsh light, something of an extension of “Big Thirst”. The overly cheery “Open Your Heart” is a Traffic track wisely left over from Low Spark, but it fits well here, and Steve’s harmony is welcome. “How Much Can A Man Really Take?” features a much different band, including former members of Spooky Tooth and The Move, but Chris Wood and Reebop help keep it of a piece with the rest of the album, with Kossoff finally let loose. Finally, “Anniversary Song” is the Al Jolson number that gives the album its title, done here in the Muscle Shoals style, with another blast from Kossoff.

Oh How We Danced provides a nice bridge between Traffic albums, and not just because the rhythm section would soon become part of the fold. Best of all showcases Capaldi’s voice, all too overshadowed in his main gig. (The European reissue CD, in addition to using the cover art that was standard worldwide, includes the B-side “Going Down Slow All The Way” as a bonus track. It’s a simple recording, not much more than a piano and vocal demo with a bass drum and tambourine, but it’s effective.)

Jim Capaldi Oh How We Danced (1972)—3

Traffic 6: The Low Spark Of High-Heeled Boys

Having recently expanded (everyone from Welcome To The Canteen except Dave Mason, again), Traffic was again able to meander into extended jamming, on an album that came out within months. With a dedicated rhythm section—Jim Capaldi having reduced his role to lyricist, harmonies and tambourine, though he does sing lead on two songs here—The Low Spark Of High-Heeled Boys sounds more than ever like a straight rock band, though there are some jazz and folk touches that got them this far. Outside of Chris Wood’s sax and flute, the predominant lead instruments are guitar and keyboards, all from—you guessed it—Steve Winwood, so overdubs were still necessary.

“Hidden Treasure” begins with a low-key acoustic strum and a flute duet, suggesting an extension of the John Barleycorn formula. But chances are, if you bought this album you’re going to skip right to the title track. On paper, there’s no way it should work: nearly twelve minutes, mostly vamping on one note. However, there’s enough mystery in the verses to give a release in the choruses. (That fuzzy sound that sounds like a processed sax, by the way, is just a Hammond organ through a distortion pedal. You can tell by that wonderful blast in the key of X right at the fade.) And it fades away just as enticingly as it came in. Something of a sorbet, “Light Up Or Leave Me Alone” is another way for someone to request that his mellow not be harshed, though the lyrics are more incidental for the soloing in between and on the fade.

The sentiments of that song get a different frame of reference when heard next to “Rock & Roll Stew”, a life-on-the-road slice courtesy of the Ric Grech-Jim Gordon rhythm section. It’s another one of those FM radio staples you’ve heard a million times that you may be surprised to find it on this album. “Many A Mile To Freedom” will appeal to anyone who likes the electric piano, but it doesn’t take too many listens to realize that the lyrics don’t vary much, and the culmination of each verse uses the same chords as the superior title track. Finally, “Rainmaker” returns to the folk sound of “Hidden Treasure”, complete with a violin solo from Grech. It follows that pattern until shifting to a more jammy jazz fade.

Perhaps an illustration of less is more, the extra people on Low Spark means it’s something of a letdown as might be expected from a supergroup. Overdubbing keyboards and guitars are impressive when it’s a solo album, but in a group context, it comes off as narcissism. Also, the blandness that would dog Winwood in later decades shows up here.

But it’s not a bad album, just a little dull at times. The title track is just plain stellar. And it featured a unique hexagonal design that just doesn’t look the same in anything smaller than an LP. (One mystery over the years has been the sequencing. The LP played in the order above, while some back covers and several CDs have since had “Rock & Roll Stew” ending side one, with “Light Up Or Leave Me Alone” in the middle of side two, shifting everything else back accordingly. Winwood’s own website uses the order above, so we’re sticking with that. Yet this would not be the last instance of multiple track listings. Meanwhile, the current CD uses the order above, with the six minute “Rock & Roll Stew Parts 1 & 2” single versions as a bonus.)

Traffic The Low Spark Of High-Heeled Boys (1971)—3
2002 remastered CD: same as 1971, plus 1 extra track

Traffic 5: Welcome To The Canteen

Now that Traffic was back, they expanded to add Ric Grech (most recently of Blind Faith) on bass, Jim Gordon (ditto from Derek & The Dominoes) on drums, and the inimitably named Reebop Kwaku Baah on percussion. (With those two pounding the rhythm, Jim Capaldi retired to the tambourine, and stayed there.) By the time they recorded gigs for a potential live album, Dave Mason was back in the band, again, and he takes a center role on Welcome To The Canteen.

A crisp rendition of “Medicated Goo” opens the album, then Mason steps forward for “Sad And Deep As You”, an overly sensitive strum that makes a nice transition into “40,000 Headmen”. That becomes a lengthy acoustic jam, then Mason comes back with the repetitive yet still mesmerizing “Shouldn’t Have Took More Than You Gave” (thanks to Stevie’s organ part).

Side two is made for jamming, with about ten minutes each devoted to “Dear Mr. Fantasy” (which is always a matter of personal taste) and “Gimme Some Lovin’”, rearranged with a “Get Back”-style gallop. Considering the glut of live albums hitting the marketplace (and this blog, no less), your endurance of this segment will be a matter of personal taste.

When Welcome To The Canteen was released, the cover and label credited the seven (!) individuals who made up the band at the time of recording. Later reissues, reflecting that the ensemble (save Mason) went on to record as Traffic, used that name on the spine and elsewhere, so that’s how it’s credited now. It’s still an intriguing little sidestep in the netherworld between actual Traffic albums.

Steve Winwood, Jim Capaldi, Dave Mason, Chris Wood, Rick Grech, “Reebop” Kwaku Baah, Jim Gordon Welcome To The Canteen (1971)—3

Dave Mason: Alone Together

It’s hard to say where exactly Dave Mason fit into Traffic, the band he helped found. The psychedelia of their first singles gave way to more straight music, to the point where his compositions sounded very different from what Steve Winwood and the others were doing. He was on their first two albums, and quit the band after each one was finished. Even his first solo single featured them as the backing band on the B-side. When he finally recorded his first solo album, he’d gone even further away.

The credits on Alone Together have always been vague; there is a comprehensive listing of musicians, but it’s not clear which tracks specifically feature Leon Russell, Larry Knechtel, Jim Gordon, Jim Keltner, Carl Radle, and other names familiar from Delaney & Bonnie and Joe Cocker’s band. But right along with other albums out around the same time with those luminaries, this is more of your basic boogie. If anything, it’s most notorious for its elaborate cover art, which extended to the puke-colored vinyl.

“Only You Know And I Know” would be the “Feelin’ Alright” of the album, having been covered by lots of people since its introduction here. It is infectious, with its layered guitars and harmony blend fitting well into the Layla mold. “Can’t Stop Worrying, Can’t Stop Loving” is more laid back, but has a nice full sound, and shows his tendency to restrict his melodies to a three-note range. “Waitin’ On You” is a little more funky, with a prominent electric piano and a “soul choir” to help out with the choruses. “Shouldn’t Have Took More Than You Gave” sounds most like a Traffic sound instrumentally, with his wah-wah at full volume, and is that a banjo in the mix?

“World In Changes” is all trilling guitars with a nice organ counterpoint that eventually swallows the arrangement. “Sad And Deep As You” is fittingly titled, another nice piano and acoustic track, whereas “Just A Song” is just that, with a few more chord riffs, plus the banjo and the soul choir again. “Look At You Look At Me” was written with Jim Capaldi, which may explain why there’s something about it that seems unique while sounding like everything that’s gone before.

The album itself has gone in and out of print over the years, mostly because since the Blue Thumb label ceased to exist and MCA never knew how to keep it going. For its 50th anniversary, Mason rerecorded and released it as Alone Together Again, initially because he said he never liked his vocals, but more recently he’s blamed the Universal Studios fire of 2008.

We’re going to make the bold statement that Dave Mason was always a better session guitarist than he was a solo artist. Prominent and welcome on various Crosby, Stills & Nash solo and duo albums, his biggest hits would generally come from other people. His eventual addition of “All Along The Watchtower” to his live shows was a tribute driven by his appearance on Jimi’s original track, and gave him a chance to wail. There will be those that champion his albums, but we just disagree.

Dave Mason Alone Together (1970)—3

Traffic 4: John Barleycorn Must Die

Steve Winwood is often associated with keyboards, but those who paid enough attention to Traffic and Blind Faith would have heard him on guitar as well. So it wasn’t altogether surprising that after Blind Faith stopped, he would start recording all by himself. (After all, Paul McCartney was doing it around the same time.)

Halfway through the process he decided that the songs needed a little something extra, so he called his old colleagues Jim Capaldi and Chris Wood to add drums and winds. That was all it took to turn John Barleycorn Must Die into a full-fledged Traffic album, less than two years after they’d split. Even without the psychedelia that cloaked their earlier work, it still evokes an aural image of guys playing in a room somewhere, probably in a house.

Side one is a contender for the title of Perfect Album Side. “Glad” lands on the front step with a thud, the piano dancing over its riff for eight bars, then stepping for the sax, coming back eight bars later. And back and forth they go, the sax even finding a wah-wah pedal along the way. The last two minutes are a little exploratory, a harbinger of the future if you will. All the time the song always seems on the verge of having lyrics, but that doesn’t happen until after “Freedom Rider” and its glum saxophone kicks in. The words are beyond our comprehension, but that doesn’t keep you from trying to sing along. A neat little transition quotes from “Glad”, giving way to a dual flute solo that brings to mind a more restrained Jethro Tull. Steve’s piano pounds away over the coda, and it all tumbles down into “Empty Pages”. This happy-sounding song is apparently about writer’s block, disguised as a love song. Or something.

The second side has a lot to live up to. “Stranger To Himself” is Winwood alone, except for a few bars of Capaldi harmony. It shows his able skills at arranging, playing the guitar off the piano, as well as the drums. There’s even a pretty dirty lead guitar all the way through. Then things slow way, way down. “John Barleycorn”, as explained on the cover, is an extended interpretation of an old English folk song about alcohol. Played on a high-capoed acoustic, its verses circle and circle under a flute, to the point where the story gets denser and denser. Finally, “Every Mother’s Son” has just enough Hammond to supply the “majestic” tag. It’s another mostly one-man performance, and our favorite part is when the drums forget to keep playing during the organ solo.

John Barleycorn Must Die arrived right about when English folk was getting an electric renaissance, and fits well alongside other Island artists of the time. But despite those rustic touches, there’s a thick coat of jazz, combining for one excellent rock album. The band was off to a fresh new start.

As with many classic albums, what they put out was what they had, and reissues haven’t brought forth anything forgotten from the sessions. The first (UK-only) upgrade added some live tracks and two brief session outtakes; the US version included only the outtakes. The Deluxe Edition had neither outtake, and used different live tracks, filling up the space with alternate mixes. It’s a good argument for preserving the original as it was.

Traffic John Barleycorn Must Die (1970)—4½
2001 remastered CD: same as 1970, plus 2 extra tracks
2011 Deluxe Edition: same as 1970, plus 10 extra tracks

Ginger Baker: Air Force

After Blind Faith imploded, Eric Clapton took solace by sitting in with the Plastic Ono Band and then Delaney & Bonnie & Friends. Ginger Baker saw no reason to stop, and convinced Steve Winwood and Ric Grech to stick around for an even bigger supergroup. Denny Laine, who hadn’t really done anything since singing “Go Now” with the Moody Blues, was brought along to support Winwood on vocals and guitar. Chris Wood from Traffic, Baker’s old boss Graham Bond, and Donovan sideman Harold McNair made up the horn section, while Nigerian drummer Remi Kabaka and Baker’s instructor Phil Seamen filled in the back line. Jeanette Jacobs of the girl group the Cake, who happened to be married to Chris Wood, provided helpful harmonies. The conglomerate was dubbed Ginger Baker’s Air Force, and shows were immediately booked.

The band’s second gig, at the Royal Albert Hall, was recorded by producer Jimmy Miller, and released mere months later as a double album with cover art resembling an inside-out Wheels Of Fire. (The American labels kindly credited vocals and instrumental solos where applicable.) Ginger opens the proceedings by warning the audience that they are about to hear some “very strange numbers.” The first of these is “Da Da Man”, credited to McNair, that stirs up an almost Santana-like frenzy over seven minutes. Winwood leads the singing on “Early In The Morning”, which seems to predict Traffic’s future. He also provides the vocals (with Jeanette) for the meter-challenged “Don’t Care”, which seems to go off the rails anytime the horns try a key change. “Toad” isn’t immediately recognizable as the players start it in a minor key and don’t really follow the original melody, but since we’re here for the drums, that becomes moot.

After 13 spellbinding minutes of Kabaka’s “Aiko Biaye”, Denny leads a horribly out-of-tune slog through “Man Of Constant Sorrow” that’s thankfully under four minutes. “Do What You Like” is well received; the horns attempt a few key changes and Ginger soon leaves behind the other percussionists to solo completely alone to the crowd’s delight. Ginger introduces the band members, and they go out with a jam called “Doin’ It”, credited to Baker and Grech, which ends with a reprise of “Do What You Like”.

Given the number of people and instruments on the stage, Ginger Baker’s Air Force is understandably muddy in places, but holds together well. This is especially astounding considering the pharmaceutical habits of certain band members, several of whom would be dead within a few years.

Winwood wasn’t planning on sticking around after the Albert Hall anyway, and by the time Ginger Baker’s Air Force 2 was recorded—this time in the studio—most of the band was different. The other drummers were gone, replaced by “Speedy” Acquaye on “African percussion”. Grech and Laine were on some tracks, as was Harold McNair, but two other horn and flute players dominated, as did two or three females who sang in unison. While it also featured a backwards cover, just like the live album, it simply doesn’t keep the momentum going, even over two sides.

Graham Bond is still here, and he bellows the songs that bookend the set: Pops Staples’ “Let Me Ride” and his own “12 Gates Of The City”. The ladies dominate a cover of Cream’s “Sweet Wine”, which opens like a Christmas song, “Do U No Hu Yor Phrenz R?”, which cruelly fades out and back in, and “We Free Kings”, which sports a laundry list of strange imagery in Ginger’s accent but not his voice. Denny revives “I Don’t Want To Go On Without You” from his Moody days, while “Toady” is a retread of the drum solo with insipid lyrics added. (Some countries sported an alternate track order with different tracks from the same sessions, including an unnecessary cover of “Sunshine Of Your Love”, the island lilt of Harold McNair’s “Caribbean Soup”, another song each from Laine and Grech, and an alternate of “We Free Kings” that more directly copies the Xmas song. These can be heard on the currently streaming version of the album, if you must.)

Both Air Force albums have been in and out of print over the years, but this was slightly rectified by 1998’s Do What You Like compilation, which augmented the standard versions of the two with two singles plus Baker’s 1972 album Stratavarious, which took his African interests even further via collaboration with Fela Kuti. (The tracks from the “other” version of the second album were not included.) The first album is still easier to digest.

Ginger Baker’s Air Force Ginger Baker’s Air Force (1970)—3
Ginger Baker’s Air Force Ginger Baker’s Air Force 2 (1970)—2

Blind Faith: Blind Faith

Weary of playing in a so-called supergroup, Clapton left Cream to form another one. But Blind Faith wasn’t a complete about-face, as Ginger Baker came along. Thus, two-thirds of Cream hooked up with Steve Winwood, late of Traffic, and Ric Grech (who played the violin on the Stones’ “Factory Girl”) to pursue Clapton’s vision of the Band, with not a little influence from Traffic. Their self-titled album was recorded fairly quickly, by today’s standards anyway.

“Had To Cry Today” beats a riff into the ground for nearly nine minutes, with lots of overlaid guitars and a nicely phased freak-out section that’s not even that freaky. However, “Can’t Find My Way Home” would become many people’s favorite campfire song, with its descending D shapes, acoustic guitars and haunting vocal. Winwood had already mastered the second-verse-same-as-the-first method on “Dear Mr. Fantasy”, making it easy for budding folksingers to memorize it. His piano finally emerges on “Well All Right”, which put some money into Buddy Holly’s estate; it would not be the last time a Clapton version would put a definite stamp on somebody else’s song. Eric himself only wrote one song on the album, but following the single-verse method of “Can’t Find My Way Home”, “Presence Of The Lord” was given to Stevie to sing, and he does, nicely. (Notably, Clapton does not take a lead vocal on the album.)

Side two starts of well with “Sea Of Joy”, a multi-part song that nicely mixes psychedelia with folk, with equal doses of guitar and organ, and even a violin solo. “Do What You Like” is much more trying; credited solely to Ginger Baker, mostly likely for the 5/4 meter, it has a couple of verses, then lets Stevie, Eric, Ric and Ginger each solo for a while. This indulgence would be said to be sadly indicative of what was wrong with the album, and would likely be skipped by most listeners not already grooving or on chemicals. The last minute of subtle cacophony, however, is about as fitting as any grand “finale”.

Blind Faith was a supergroup in a time when commercialism was considered bad form in the music business, and the album was only in stores for about a month before the band dissolved. These days it’s arguably notable for its garish cover; we much prefer the silly band photo that actually identifies the members, used on a later pressing, as shown here.

Because there was never a follow-up, collectors and fans have grasped at whatever bonus straws they could find. One of the first CDs (manufactured in Europe) had two unreleased tracks that have since been exposed as outtakes from a Ric Grech solo project, and not by Blind Faith at all. A later expanded edition proved that there wasn’t much for the band past the six songs recorded and released, and by the time they might have, they had already splintered back to their own ideas. Of those outtakes, the faster take of “Sleeping On The Ground” is of the caliber of the LP, or at least a B-side, while the electric “Can’t Find My Way Home” shows they were right to go with what they chose. (Fans of guitar improvisation and cowbell would likely drool over the four lengthy, Grech-less jams that make up the second disc.)

Blind Faith Blind Faith (1969)—4
2001 Deluxe Edition: same as 1969, plus 9 extra tracks

Traffic 3: Last Exit

Despite a lot of activity in a short time, Traffic was suddenly no more—Dave Mason left again, followed by Steve Winwood, who was already on his way to another project. Last Exit provided an odd collection of leftovers under a half-baked title. (The US/UK differences returned again, with a different front cover depending on the country. The same photo of Winwood eating an apple was used for all back covers, along with an admittedly clever depiction of their now “broken” logo.)

The clear highlights are “Shanghai Noodle Factory” and “Medicated Goo”, both sides of the same single, with excellent guitar work by Winwood. Both are funky in their own ways, if a little nonsensical. “Withering Tree” has a nice autumnal quality in their folk mode. “Just For You” was a B-side from a Dave Mason solo single the rest of the band played on, and “Something’s Got A Hold Of My Toe”, excellent title aside, appears to be an unfinished jam.

However, side two doesn’t catch fire, consisting of two lengthy covers, recorded live, that give Chris Wood a chance to wander, and Steve to wail in his R&B voice. The organ/woodwinds/drums combo has its moments, coming off more jazzy than ever, but they aren’t well represented here.

Clearly a grasp for profits from the record label, Last Exit has remained in print, though its best songs (mentioned above) can be found on any number of compilations. In other words, it can be overlooked. (In fact, only six months later Best Of Traffic included them, along with about half of the American version of the first album, some of which were singles in the UK anyway.)

Traffic Last Exit (1969)—2½
Traffic Best Of Traffic (1969)—4

Traffic 2: Traffic

Traffic was barely out of the gate (sorry) before Dave Mason left the band. He was soon coaxed back for their second album, where he would play a more prominent role. Traffic bears little of the psychedelia that defined their first album and singles, so maybe that’s why it got the simple title.

The jaunty “You Can All Join” is a celebration of the communal spirit still prevalent in 1968, a happy little singalong to start the side. “Pearly Queen” manages to get a good groove out of a blues riff, with plenty of organ. “Don’t Be Sad” is a nearly sweet pop song with clever rhythms and sustains, while “Who Knows What Tomorrow May Bring” would be improved a year later as “Shanghai Noodle Factory”. Hidden at the end of side one is a song that would soon become something of a standard from the throat of Joe Cocker, but here, “Feelin’ Alright?” shows its roots as a more unsettled tune, albeit with two chords.

“Vagabond Virgin” mostly lopes along, sounding for all the work like a precursor for Crosby, Stills & Nash. “40,000 Headmen” brings us back to the mythology of the house in the country, a mysterious little song, nicely followed by “Crying To Be Heard”, with its subtle harpsichord matching the “sail across the ocean with the wind against your back” sentiment. A ghostly soprano sax heralds “No Time To Live”, one of those “who am I” songs that succeeds despite itself, thanks to the descending piano chords and Winwood’s excellent R&B delivery. “Means To An End” isn’t the best finale, but it will have to do.

Traffic has a lot of stops and starts (sorry), and overall it’s very disjointed—mostly because Dave Mason worked on his own, while Winwood and Capaldi collaborated very well with Chris Wood. It’s an odd little album, still good, but missing something.

Traffic Traffic (1968)—3
2001 CD reissue: same as 1968, plus 3 extra tracks

Traffic 1: Mr. Fantasy

Steve Winwood has a classic voice and undeniable talent on several instruments. Unfortunately, because he wasted those talents on pop for the better part of fifteen years, a lot of people may only think of him as the “Higher Love” or “Roll With It” guy. Then again, they might not know what to make of Traffic.

Traffic began as something of a British counterpart to The Band—four guys living in a house deep in the countryside, concocting their own brand of music. It was something of a departure for Winwood, whose R&B belt was now used to decorate more trippy fare. The singles “Paper Sun” and “Hole In My Shoe” are truly psychedelic, built around Dave Mason’s prominent sitar.

The Indian influence is mostly toned down on the band’s first album, which existed in four formats—Mr. Fantasy in the UK, and (initially) Heaven Is In Your Mind in the US, both in unique mono and stereo mixes. The American version gets points for including both of those singles, along with the B-side “Smiling Phases”, among a jumble of tracks from the British LP. The final track, cleverly titled “We’re A Fade, You Missed This”, is merely a reprised snippet from “Paper Sun”. While Everybody’s Dummy tends to concentrate on US releases, in this case, it’s the UK lineup that was not only standard from the ‘80s on, but is actually preferred.

“Heaven Is In Your Mind” opens side one with drastic panning thanks to producer Jimmy Miller. The vocals and drums swap channels with the piano and saxes throughout the track, a groovy little tune. The last minute or so is a jam, with lots of vocal contributions from everyone. That mood continues on “Berkshire Poppies”, which rotates between a nursery piano waltz, a speedy chorus and slower resolve, while the other guys try to distract Winwood’s vocal with raspberries and shouted asides. “House For Everyone” is truly odd, beginning with a wind-up effect edited perfectly into the intro, and a daffy lyric fitting the times. Things finally slow down for the exquisite “No Face, No Name, No Number”, a positively gorgeous ode to a mystery woman, gently played. “Dear Mr. Fantasy” is the song everybody knows, its three-chord structure sparking endless jams in bars around the world.

Jim Capaldi finally takes a lead vocal on “Dealer”, which suggests a drug connection but isn’t. The Indian sound comes back with a vengeance on “Utterly Simple”, complete with a ringing phone in the middle to usher in the obligatory philosophy lesson. “Coloured Rain” gets a churning treatment from the organ, guitar and sax, but “Hope I Never Find Me There” is another Dave Mason nursery rhyme. “Giving To You” is a jazz jam in a march tempo, bookended by loops of Chris Wood babbling. (The mono B-side version actually has an opening verse without the babbling.)

Mr. Fantasy provides at least one classic album side, though the second half does have something to recommend it as well. Overall there’s a cloud of mystery, given that the players likely switched instruments as the mood struck, and what some of us wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall in that house.

Unfortunately, thanks to the shuffling way back when, no single package currently encompasses everything that was ever part of the album. A relatively recent British CD reissue offered the British stereo with the American mono, while in America, two CDs came out—one that added the singles to the British version, and one that simply added the two songs left off the US stereo, with a couple of rarities. Given the brevity of the original LPs, a double-disc Deluxe Edition—which their current label has done for just about everybody else—could easily contain all four versions, plus extraneous singles from the same period. And of course, if it turns out that some songs had identical mixes, there’s no need to have it four times.

Traffic Mr. Fantasy (1967)—4
2000 CD reissue: same as 1967, plus 5 extra tracks
Traffic Heaven Is In Your Mind (1968)—4
2000 CD reissue: same as 1967, plus 4 extra tracks