Fresh Cream

I wrote this a while ago for a site called Kinemagigz.  This concert was really the beginning of my lifelong obsession with music.

Cream (Sunday 9th July 1967) "I was sixteen when the Cream played the Ballroom and it was the first proper gig I had ever been to. Up until Sunday 9 July 1967 I had only seen local bands, mainly playing chart covers. As an aspiring guitarist myself I was really excited about seeing the legendary Eric Clapton, having heard lots of his work with John Mayall. I had heard Fresh Cream but only a borrowed copy, as I couldn’t afford to buy it. The five bob for my ticket to Cream represented half my weekly pocket money as I was still at school. It’s a long time ago but I still have some quite vivid memories of the show. Clapton had the Afro hairdo and was wearing quite foppish hippy gear. Jack Bruce was a solid business-like presence on stage and Ginger Baker looked as if he was possessed by the devil. (I believe the jury is still out on that one.) It would be nice to say that I remembered the set song for song but I don’t. I remember they played Spoonful, Cat’s Squirrel, Rolling and Tumbling and Ginger Baker’s tour de force, Toad. I was struck by how effortless it seemed to be for Clapton to play great sounding solos and what a tremendous guitar sound he had. (He was playing a Gibson SG.) Jack Bruce did a lot of the singing and played Bass like Clapton played guitar – as though he was born doing it. But, although guitar has always been my passion and it was exciting to see the man they called "God" live, what really sticks with me is Ginger Baker and his physical commitment to his playing. I have never before or since seen anyone give so much of their physical being to playing music. At times he looked ready to collapse but the relentless thundering of his drumming never let up. The solo in Toad left people with their mouths hanging open. Drum solos are often suspect – a way to display technique rather than say anything musical – but Baker played a solo for (I think) about ten minutes that left me wishing he had gone on for longer. It’s difficult to describe it without lapsing into clichés – he went all the way from being a train to an ant tap dancing and back again. I didn’t just hear and see him playing – I felt it. Back then that was a really important lesson – at that time we guitar anoraks were obsessed with technique and speed. Baker had both in Spades but the most important thing was the feeling he expressed and his honesty and commitment to his art. That lesson has stayed with me and some might say that it was ironic that I learned it from a drummer. Since then I have seen many of my heroes live – some in The Ballroom – but as has been said many times before, there is nothing quite like your first time…