Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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50 of 55 people found the following review helpful:
2.0 out of 5 stars
NO BEAUTY BENEATH THE SKIN, October 23, 2007
I would look to offer up my thoughts after reading this much anticipated book several times over and would like to put to pen what I had been thinking for sometime. I was taken quite back my Eric's hubris and lack of remorse for many of his actions. Indeed his behavior towards women and lack of almost any complementary tone towards other wonderful musicians he has played with, and made money off of, was rather disturbing. What makes this is even worse - is that he is this way sober and off drugs! One reviewer quoted that he was honest and always had been; I doubt that then and now. It appears that denial and a genuine lack of insight to one's own character are his guiding demeanor. I feel very sorry for his wife, from Columbus Ohio and her parents who have to read this book about a post 60 year old man who still wishes that he had sex with a female when he was in his twenties. Regretful? How about repugnant. It's akin to my grandfather talking about having sex with someone in his younger days, while my grandmother sits across the room in her rocker. Distasteful.
I also agree, with another reviewer, that the middle portion of the book really loses focus, and instead of moving chronologically from one LP/CD to the next, it seems as though every two pages reveals yet another female conquest, lavishly praised for her beauty before he sleeps with her and moves on - never to be heard from again. Much like substance abuse, he documents himself as stimulus seeker without a moral compass, without regret or remorse of whom he hurts. (The only lament I can detect is when Mick steals a mistress from him.) As in when he is distraught that his wife and mistress both are at ends with him, or when he actually details how he wished/prayed for Conner's mother would come back after 4-5 hours of bonding to relieve him of his monthly duties as a father. One would consider this event almost shameful, but he lacks that quality as a person as best depicted when expounding on the death of his son later in the book.
Amazingly little time is spent on the areas and events where fans and musicians, like myself, would want to know what happened from Clapton's POV: Blind Faith, Delaney and Bonnie, and the formation of Derek and the Domino's. He woefully dismisses jamming with George Harrison, playing with him in Delaney & Bonnie post Beatles (something many of us had wished to know more of) and totally ignored the contributions of Dave Mason in the formation of D and D's. This despite the fact that he played on, and is credited for, most of the early tracks included in the Crossroads Compilation, as well as Harrison's All Things Must Pass. Even less for Andy Fairweather-Low, Knopfler, Dunn, etc.
Yet, another annoying trait is Clapton's chronic use of terms like fearful, insecurity and low self-esteem........as to prepare us for yet another arena or explanation of bad choices, bad decisions or bad behavior. The problem is that not all behavior is justified or rationalized. Sometime bad is just bad and unfortunately for Clapton, he has never learned this. For example, the Lady he sleeps with from NY, whom he is told will bring Patti back to him. Really? Did you actually believe that sleeping with another lady would get your wife to love you more? Perhaps the prevailing addiction is sex not drugs. One suspects that his written regret here is that he considered her to be unattractive and fat; not that Patti never came back. Yet as he put it: I did it anyway.
What does come through in this book, is that Clapton has been a golden goose or cash cow for management for most of professional career, constantly changing his imagine to be in vogue through out the 80's and 90's despite claiming to be a purist, even though he never clearly recognizes it. Albeit on second thought maybe he does: an autobiography, followed by (yet another!) Best of CD collection of which most songs have been released many times over, and supported by (gasp) no less than two Amazon interviews to support the cause.
Readable? Barely.
Informative? Rarely
Fleeced? Probably
Sellout? Absolutely.
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153 of 178 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
A Soul Bared for All to See, October 10, 2007
I love biographies, especially of celebrities, having read them all my life. As I have gotten older, though, my attention span wanes, and I read less and less. This book, Clapton:The Autobiography, is an exceptional one, and as a pseudo musician (I can play several instruments, but I certainly wouldn't say I play any well), the prospect of reading about Eric Clapton, from the source, so-to-speak, was a prospect that excited me. I feel blessed that one can pre-order a book and have it on ones doorstep the day it hits the streets, as was the case with this book and the accompanying CD.
First of all, this is an exceptional book, but unlike some biographies, and fewer autobiographies, it is not one that would be a "page turner" for everyone because it is not full of cute anecdotes that make for sharing stories around the water cooler the next day.
A case in point is the time when Eric first met Jimi Hendrix. Chas Chandler of the Animals was trying to develop a career as a promoter and came across Hendrix in New York. Promising him a chance to meet Eric Clapton, he took Jimi to London. After meeting several musicians (Eric Burton, Andy Summers, et. al.), Chas took Jimi to hear Cream play. Backstage, Chas introduced Jimi, and they asked if Jimi could sit in with them for a few numbers, which seemed kind of ballsey. In CLAPTON, Eric writes that Jimi played Howlin' Wolf's "Killing Floor" in true Hendrix fashion playing "the guitar with his teeth, behind his head, lying on the floor, doing the splits, the whole business. It was amazing.....They (the crowd) loved it, and I loved it, too, but I remember thinking that here was a force to be reckoned with. It scared me, because he was clearly going to be a huge star, and just as we were finding our own speed, here was the real thing." In other accounts I have read and heard about from others, Eric after seeing and hearing Jimi perform, goes over and sits down, looking rejected. Another musician comes over to ask him, "What's wrong?" In some accounts it's Jack Bruce, in other accounts it's Peter Townsend. Eric replies, "I'm (expletive-deleted). If I'm "God," who's he?" Which to me would have been a funny anecdote.
It is still an exceptional book because it is so personal.... Filled with the flaws and mistakes of an exceptionally talented man who carried around for most of his life the baggage of being a "bastard" to some in his own family, for his mother had had an affair with a soldier during WWII and left him as a child to be raised by his grandparents. While learning that his "parents" were actually his grandparents, he writes at length of the insecurities of not having his mom there, and, the heartbreak of finally meeting her, and asking her if he could call her "Mummy now?" Only to be told, ""I think it's best, after all they've done for you, that you go on calling your grandparent Mum and Dad." Of that moment, he wrote, "In that moment I felt total rejection."
Growing-up wasn't all that bad, though. Eric showed some talent in art, and music was something that his Grandmother Rose loved. He wasn't a diligent student, but in art, and later in the guitar, he worked long and hard at learning and later creating.
This is a very thorough book, almost a true musician's book because it leaves out nothing of the ups-and-downs that seem to be the norm for all musicians. In the book, he talks of why some tunes were written a certain way, how he evolved in his musical craft, and what he was wanting to achieve in each group he played with. He mentions names on individuals in even the earliest of groups he played in, what they did together, and is very thorough in providing the reader his a written history of their achievements.
One wonders, though, where all this would have led had Eric not had so much alcohol and drugs in his early life, of if in some way, this was the catalyst to help him overcome those insecurities of his youth (Actually, he states this in a roundabout way that it was, but one still wonders just how much of what we have now would there have been with less alcohol and drugs.)
I can't think of any aspect of Eric's life that he doesn't discuss in ERIC: THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY: His love life, particularly his infatuation with Patti Boyd, George Harrison's wife; His relationships with other musicians and what he respected them for; His heartbreaks such as the loss of his son Conor.
I've given this book four stars, not because it is not exceptional, but because it isn't one that will be readable and enjoyable to all. However, if you are a lover of rock and blues music, or one who really wonders just what has gone through the head of someone as influential as Eric Clapton, I would recommend it to you.
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353 of 438 people found the following review helpful:
2.0 out of 5 stars
A terrible disappointment, October 16, 2007
I am a guitarist and long-time admirer of Eric Clapton. I've followed his career and life for four decades. I was really looking forward to this autobiography. Sadly, the book has many flaws in its writing and production, but beyond that, I fear that it reveals a terribly shallow and self-centered man.
The opening chapters are interesting, although very little new information is provided for any one who has read at all about the music scene of the 60's and 70's. As the book progresses, it moves into a second stage which is, frankly, rather boring. Like much of Clapton's music from this era, it lacks focus and tends to ramble.
However, it's the last third of the book that I find most disturbing. I'm not only very familiar with the guitar, but also addiction and recovery. To those familiar with 12-step programs, Clapton's almost complete disregard of his commitment to anonymity, and lack of true humility, is shocking and a red flag to anyone who knows about recovery. This guy may not be drinking or drugging anymore, but is clearly selective as to which parts of the program he cares to follow. An argument can be made that he needed to tell the story of his recovery, but this could have been done in a much more careful way -as many before him have done. Reading this book, I for the first time now truly understand why the rule of anonymity is so important in recovery. If the program that made Clapton "sober" produced the kind of man that is revealed in the last chapters of this book, then many people may decide to not try that route for themselves.
Clapton lacks generosity toward many of the musicians that he played with (he gives selective praise to a few), takes inordinate credit for many of his successful partnerships, and pointedly shows little compassion for the death of his "friend" George Harrison. John Lennon who gave him several high profile gigs, is barely mentioned, and his murder not at all. Cream is mentioned, but a shameful low swipe is made at Ginger Baker and Jack Bruce in some of the final pages - alluding to their aging bodies and stating that he (Clapton) at least helped them get some pocket money by allowing a brief reunion. Not very humble. Not very honorable. Shame on you Eric.
I'm no angel myself, but I find his treatment and attitude toward women shocking. He makes excuses for his beastly behavior toward the many women he is involved with as they role past one by one (or sometimes two by two as when he hooks up with two young women half his age and "dates" them alternately in one of the last chapters). We all had periods of craziness during these days, but his attitude toward the women he was involved with, and his lack of true remorse at his own behavior is very depressing. I hope that he has finally found a loving relationship that he sticks with - both for his sake and that of the young woman he is now with.
Clapton's tone in the final pages is very disturbing. Self congratulatory, filled with references to wealth and power, and describes a rather pathetic picture of an older English man from the lower classes trying now to cast himself as a "Lord of the Manor", pheasant hunting and fly fishing with tweed-jacketed, pipe-smoking upper-crust types. He doesn't seem to have learned that all of that money is not going to bring him happiness.
The guy has played some brilliant guitar, but I can't help but feel that his acknowledgment and thanks to the black blues players of America is more a calculated way of saying "see what good taste I have" rather than a true showing of humble gratitude. Little or no time is spent talking about the other great musicians he played with. Rip out a hundred pages of talk about your house renovations, cars and hundreds of guitars you own and instead talk about what it was like to play music with some of the many great musicians you were lucky enough to have associated with.
Lastly, the book is very poorly written and produced. The few pictures provided are oft-seen and out-of-focus shots at the beginning of each chapter. Couldn't you have given us a picture section? Poor printing, miss-spellings and typos in the book just ad to the feeling that I had been fleeced in purchasing this book.
To Clapton, I wish him peace and happiness in his remaining days. Perhaps he needs to go to India and really reflect upon his life for a few months.
To readers considering purchasing this product, get Pattie Boyd's book instead. At least it's a fun read and much more professionally produced.
An update for those who care....
I can't believe I have spent so much time writing and responding to the comments here. I have never done anything like this before on Amazon (or anywhere else for that matter). Hopefully. we all have better things to do. So for my own sanity, I will post this last comment and then retire from this back and forth.
If I was too harsh in my comments and offended anyone, I do apologize. I've thought about my comments after seeing the several passionate responses to my original post and have mixed feelings about what I originally had to say. But - my comments were true and from the heart. No mean spirited intentions. I can't count the hours that Eric's playing have given me ecstatic pleasure.
Perhaps I am holding Mr Clapton to too high a standard. When I was just 15 years old I was lucky enough to be at Atlantic studios in New York as an unseen kid in the corner and watch Cream work on an album. Friends were recording their own album with the same producer (Adrian Barber - an unsung genius of the time). After that, I then literally wore out my Cream records learning every guitar line that Eric played and pursued a career in music for myself - I claim no status as an "important" musician or "producer" - music is simply one of the things that makes life good for me.
Clapton's playing surpassed everything I had ever heard. I'm from the south and was familiar with the blues from my dad who knew many of the original heroes of Clapton. I followed Clapton's career in the years that went by. Some of his later music was great and some modest, but always followed by me. I had my own hurdles and was inspired by his struggle with sobriety. I have great admiration for him as a musician and man. So maybe I had too high a goal set for the man...I expect a lot from him.
I do, however, stick to my guns when it comes to the quality and content of this book. Maybe he didn't even do most (or any) of the writing. The writing is poor, the production shameful. In any case, as a sober, grown man I'm sure that he would agree that I am entitled to my personal opinion of his autobiography.
Writing one's autobiography, especially when such a prominent figure is no insignificant project. I wrote what I felt in my heart after reading his book. I was saddened and depressed by his comments about money, women and status. I had expected far more from him. My number one example is his exit from the Yardbirds on the principal of the ART of music versus the commercial, crass alternative. Everything in this book seems to fly in the face of that noble ideal...I had looked forward to a totally different experience after reading this book. In case you read this Eric - you still have a long way to go in this life and have a great gift. I'm rooting for you and hope that as Jack Bruce said at Covent Garden "these are the good times" - not those days gone. Let's see your best now, I know you can fly much higher...
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