As we waited impatiently on the windswept pavements outside the Royal Albert Hall, the May evening took on a cool glow. Across the road, the statue of Prince Albert glittered gold in the Kensington Palace lawn.
We had reached at 5.45pm and the Hall gates were open, but many, like us, were drinking in the beauty of the cool summer evening while waiting for one of the greatest blues-rock guitarists and musicians.
For me, it had been a long wait… since December 2014 when I had asked my friend to get tickets, which went online earlier that month and were sold out in 20 minutes flat. We got lucky. Here I was, on May 18, waiting my turn to listen to the legend.
I still remember the first time I heard Clapton. I was about 14 years old and 461 Ocean Boulevard left an indelible mark. The years rolled by and my obsession grew. From vinyl to tape to CD and then DVD… and then I saw him in concert for the first time in 2011 at Indoor stadium in Singapore.
But today was special, as it was my long-cherished dream to see him perform at the Royal Albert Hall. I had heard many eulogise the Hall’s amazing acoustics and I wanted to experience it.
The evening was part of his 70th birthday concerts. Two nights earlier, he had delivered his 200th Royal Albert Hall performance, the celebrated venue where he first played on December 7, 1964 as a member of The Yardbirds for a BBC Two Top Beat concert. He returned four years later for Cream’s UK Farewell Concert on November 26, 1968. He then returned many times over.
Once inside, I continued my pilgrimage of the rich wood-panelled corridors, lined with pictures of musical icons: Clapton playing with B.B. King, Cream, The Beatles, Traveling Wilburys, The Who.... Even with people –– in large numbers –– roaming the corridors with cameras, it was quiet as they spoke in hushed tones, even when they sipped beer and cider at the Spitfire bar, as though we were inside a temple. This music is indeed a religion for people like me.
The first glimpse of the concert hall staggered me. Though I had seen it in hundreds of concert videos, the plush scarlet-and-gold interior with red velvet curtains, the soundproofing hanging like many-splendoured mushrooms from the huge atrium, was breathtakingly beautiful.
The first act was Andy Fairweather Low with his band The Low Riders. But like me, the audience was waiting for EC. Soon the lights dimmed and Clapton took the stage with his band members Paul Carrack, Steve Gadd, Chris Stainton and Nathan East.
The firm, clear guitar notes of Somebody’s Knocking floated across and we went ecstatic. The sound was amazing... much beyond my expectation. I was in heaven!
Pretending set the mood, swinging with those lovely high notes. Clapton has been performing here for over 50 years and had once remarked that playing here was like “performing in my front room”. But that took nothing away from the professionalism and magnificence of his act.
He humbly thanked the audience, “Thanks for coming and glad to see you here”, before moving to the next song, Hoochie Coochie Man, the Willie Dixon cover, with its bold rhythmic guitar riffs. The Hall pulsated with the music. I mused to myself: “Is this man 70?” His stage presence filled the auditorium. It was exactly how I remembered him from the last time I saw him live… calm but bold.
He allowed his very talented band members to take centre stage with Paul Carrack singing the Billy Preston number You Are So Beautiful followed by another favourite –– Nathan East doing Blind Faith’s Can’t Find My Way Home. Steve Gadd added to the aura with his majestic drumming.
Perhaps to slow down a little came the sit-down/ acoustic numbers. Tears In Heaven filled our hearts, proving that however gifted a person is, he is still vulnerable. The famous elegy on losing his only son, the lyrics were poignant evoking empathy rather than sympathy.
Then he played Layla, the acoustic version, leaving us clapping in time... softly, in keeping with the venue! Perhaps the only change in routine was Clapton repeating “BB King” during his passionate rendering of Little Queen of Spades in memory of the great one who had passed away on May 14. He had a very special relation with the legendary bluesman. Clapton looked up to King and being restrained by nature, calling out his name repeatedly in a song was a fitting tribute. Cocaine evoked memories but it wasn’t the end. Clapton came back for an encore: High Time We Went, with Andy. And then it was curtain call.
A little misty-eyed and feeling heady with music, we stepped out in the cold. The audience members filed out, some of them on the right side of 70, like Clapton, and like the very old man my friend had jokingly asked for directions to the Hall, who simply got up and said: “I am going there too.”
Well, I was privileged to have heard him and wish I could see him again. Keep making the music, God. ‘Let It Grow.’
Which is the most memorable concert you have attended? Tell t2@abp.in within 150 words
