The spectators were talking about nothing else as they left the pavilion. What happened in the end? Why didn’t he come out to play any encores? What happened was that an extremely reckless fan threw a vinyl record, one of the long-playing ones, onto the stage as Eric Clapton was heading to the dressing room after the ecstasy of Cocaine. The plan was to rest for five minutes and then come back out. But bad luck meant the record hit the star’s body, remember, 81 years old. That’s what happens when you throw an object at someone; there’s a chance you’ll hit them.
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The impact of the projectile shouldn’t have been strong. Clapton stood still for a few seconds and continued on his way to the stairs. But he was no longer in the mood. He was seen for a few seconds in a side hallway, his musicians expectant. Then he waved his hand indicating they were leaving. And we missed the finale thanks to a reckless fan with aim. The follower, Argentine, according to sources from the promoter reported to EL PAÍS, had written a note of affection that he attached to the vinyl. Perhaps the surely now remorseful fan should have opted to throw only the paper note. It’s wrong to throw things on stage, but at least choose something that can’t poke someone’s eye out.
Because of the incident, the concert was left without the final touch, which was expected to be a fiery version of Before You Accuse Me, an original Bo Diddley song with which the English musician has been closing his shows on his current European tour. Considering that last night Clapton already cut some songs compared to other cities (in Budapest, for example, he performed 15 and in Madrid 13), the show lasted an hour and 20 minutes. A bit short. And it was a shame it didn’t end as planned, because the recital was greatly enjoyed.
The rock legend does not often perform in Spain and it was not a matter to let it pass, just in case it was the last opportunity. Last night was his first performance here (on Sunday he plays Barcelona) in two decades, no less. The Movistar Arena in Madrid was full, 15,000 people, many mature audience members, but also some young people and, already a classic, parents accompanied by their twenty-something children. They witnessed a good concert, calm, full of blues and with hardly any concessions. Clapton filled the repertoire with those versions of the first bluesmen that he has made his own and he expanded with the guitar, because his hands, with long fingers, still show enough agility to spark while playing blues. Obviously, his best recitals must be sought in the past, but it is moving to see how he, and others of his generation, bravely fight against their mortality as musicians and manage to provide happiness to thousands of people.
Clapton stepped on stage at 9 p.m. with his look of a retired physics professor. Gray hair, thin metal frame glasses, and a dark suit. A greeting lowering his head, a smile, and his hands, those hands, running over the white and black Fender Stratocaster guitar. Despite being backed by an excellent guitarist, left-handed Doyle Bramhall II, from the first moment Clapton took command of the solos. In Badge, rescued from the stormy Cream, the master already showed he was warmed up. In the second song, Charlie Segar’s blues Key to the Highway, he executed one of those sharp and elegant picking styles that hundreds of guitarists have tried to imitate and never managed to equal. Virtuosity and soul, a longed-for conjunction that Clapton still treasures today, with eight decades of life.
What was also clear last night is that the sense of showmanship is far from being one of Clapton’s strengths. He didn’t consider it much in the past and he’s not going to change at this point. His staging is sober, with no concessions to paraphernalia. And it is appreciated to see such a frugal concert in a context so given to pyrotechnics. He moves in a relatively small space and barely talks to the audience. He appeared alongside a high-level band composed of seven musicians, two of them backing vocalists who enhanced the songs, although the master showed he is splendid in voice. The sound, clear, allowed each instrument to be heard distinctly.
The first half hour was a delight, focused on blues with songs like Hoochie Coochie Man, by Willie Dixon and popularized by Muddy Waters. He closed the initial segment with I Shot The Sheriff, that Bob Marley song to which Clapton gave another life and launched to success. The protagonist’s long guitar intervention in this song was sensational, first sliding his left hand over the frets at the top of the neck of his guitar, refined, subtle, and then unleashing fury by pressing the frets at the lower part.
Next, he sat down to face an acoustic part that began with a raw rural blues by Robert Johnson, Kind Hearted Woman Blues, which he performed as if he were in a smoky bar. The people accompanied him with claps. In this part he included Layla, that jewel by Derek and the Dominos, an indisputable classic of rock radio stations. He has long insisted on playing it in a relaxed format, sitting on a chair, with a Spanish guitar, and we were left wanting to hear it in all its electric splendor. When Tears in Heaven came, it was irresistible to get emotional remembering to whom it is dedicated: only he knows what this man must have suffered when he lost his four-year-old son after falling from a hotel window. The audience listened, huddled, accompanying with a soft chorus.
After this performance, he got up from the chair and picked up the electric guitar again. Surely Holy Mother, a song from August, those eighties albums where he was lost, trying to approach radio pop, was unnecessary. He resumed the concert’s rhythm with Cross Road Blues, the Robert Johnson classic, which he transformed into a soul & blues piece thanks to the voluptuous choruses. Another dragged blues by Johnson (and that makes three) followed, Little Queen of Spades, where the boss left space for the instrumental skill of the two keyboardists and the other guitarist. He reserved an explosive solo where he subjected his Stratocaster, stretching the notes to the beyond. When Cocaine ended, with people dancing, everyone was ready to finish the night with one more song. But they threw that circular, sharp, black thing that gives us so much pleasure when placed on the turntable, the needle drops and it starts to play, and the party ended abruptly.
