Jerry Lynn Williams and I first crossed paths in 1985 though I didnt know it at the time. Rather, the first single and MTV video off Eric Claptons Behind the Sun was one of three songs on the new effort bearing his brand. The name meant nothing to me then, but I noted it because thats who was credited on Forever Man. That was the song, too. Slowhands classic 461 Ocean Boulevard tones rippled through it on a Caribbean lilt lined with a steel-drum guitar stutter. Cream-y.
Unfathomably, Shes Waiting, the albums second single, hit instead. As I sniped in a record review for my college newspaper, Shes Waiting sounded like shes waiting for the discs producer to sing the song, and not one note of music back then didnt feature Phil Collins. Behind the Sun radiated two other Williams compositions, and taken with Forever Man, they fueled the platter. Three years later on Crossroads, the second CD box set after Dylans Biograph, Wanna Make Love to You, an outtake from Suns follow-up August, left another forget-me-not. Running on Faith, one of five Williams contributions to 1989s Journeyman, Claptons post-Crossroads rebirth, later showed up on the sole Jerry Lynn Williams CD Ive come across: 2001s The Peacemaker. That was at Waterloo Records mainstay Martin Coulters table at an Austin Records Convention a couple years ago.
Last night, halfway through a two-hour main set at the America Airlines Center in Dallas Williams hometown Clapton launched Forever Man like a three-minute time capsule from somewhere deep inside my last quarter-century. When Steve Winwood sang the second verse, a circle closed; its the organist who suggested unearthing the song as both Blind Faith veterans attest in the new Eric Clapton and Steve Winwood Live From Madison Square Garden DVD.
Mostly, the pair stuck to the DVD and its audio compliment, jiggering the song order and making substitutions. Opener Had to Cry crossed Winwoods powder blue-green Strat with Claptons Blackie, their snake pit of lead lines loosening the two UK bluesmens digits as a backing rhythm section, auxiliary keyboardist, and a pair of back-up singers flexed their instruments. Son Houses Low Down Dirty Shame did the same, followed by Claptons lithe, yet chunky After Midnight, both prepping Blind Faiths Presence of the Lord, though it was Winwood at the piano on Traffic jam Glad, which then segued into a strutting cover of Buddy Hollys Well All Right, that proved the evening’s point of no return.
Too Bad, the b-side of Forever Man, prompted Claptons best Albert King, flash needle point from a sewing machine. Forever Man encore turned out to be Winwoods signature solo vehicle, Georgia on My Mind, lead into a four-song acoustic set highlighted by Layla and then Cant Find My Way Home. The full arena wasnt quite wasted enough not to find their way home to classic rock heaven. Closer Voodoo Chile, on whose 1968 original Winwood guested, went the distance at 13 minutes, slow, steady and speared by Clapton whenever he unleashed a spasm of solo with the force of the Mississippi. Winwoods portions were calm, blue ambiance compared to Claptons gushing bursts.
Dueling axes slung the first encore, Cocaine, the duo snorting solos fat and fast, Winwoods sharp and mean, and the ever competitive Claptons proving which of the two had been shredding six strings for living. Dear Mr. Fantasy then climaxed with a crescendo of Clapton rock and Winwood soul. Second comings dont come any more first rate.
Forever Man, though. That was one. Clarion Clapton, genius A&R by Winwood. Jerry Lynn Williams lives.
This article appears in June 19 • 2009.
