J.J. Cale Naturally (1971)

From jonjeffblogs.wordpress.com

The next album in my series is Naturally by J.J. Cale. Cale is most commonly known as a contemporary of Eric Clapton, having written a number of songs that turned into hits for Clapton in the ‘70s, like “Cocaine” and “After Midnight.”

This album definitely surprised me. After one quick listen, I had all but written it off as a slightly redneck ode to Americana roots rock. But Cale defies expectations a lot here. It was only on my tenth listen that I noticed how the entire album starts and this all came into focus for me.

Cale is talking over the introductory beat into “Call Me The Breeze.” Talking isn’t even a fair term, he is mumbling. After listening to the first six seconds of the song over and over, all I can make out is “Here’s one of your ol’ rock ‘n’ roll favorites, craynin’ (?!?), shuffle on down to Broadway…” All I can imagine is Cale, beard gray and haggard, sitting on a rocking chair on the deck leading into a small town general store in rural Oklahoma, a fat ol’ dip in his lip, muttering to himself.

He sounds like a crazy redneck. This intro leads into a fantastic 12-bar blues, as relaxed and rapid as the title implies. However, the weirdest part of this whole set up is the fact that the beat over which Cale’s spoken intro is made from a drum machine. It’s not an actual human behind a drum kit, but it’s very clearly a drum programming.

When I first realized it was a drum machine, I furrowed my brow in confusion. This album was recorded in ’70-’71. Drum machines were played with by musicians like Sly Stone, Stevie Wonder, not good ol’ boys like J.J. Cale. But that’s the beauty of the album. I was expecting the whole thing to be a “good ol’ boys” type of affair. Cale has created an album that sounds like it was built entirely on gravel roads, but loaded with a lot of little surprises that takes it past that as well.

The spoken intro on the opening number is a perfect example of this. You think with his old man ramblin’s that you’re getting one thing, but the whole thing is just slightly skewed from what you’re expecting.

He veers into a surprising number of styles as well. Present on the album: backwoods country, the Tulsa sound, New Orleans brass band, swamp rock, pre-yacht rock. I hear echoes of Bread, Rodriguez, Eagles, and Dr. John. It’s kind of a stew of weirdness.

But the album is a fun listen. I’d recommend it, especially if you’re a guitar player who wants something new to practice lead. Particularly great songs to solo over: “Call Me The Breeze,” “Crazy Mama, ” and “Magnolia.”

Finally, I absolutely love the part in “Clyde” where he sings “…a tambourine tied to his tail…” and the tambourine comes in right after that. I had nowhere to put this in the rest of the review, but I love it so damn much that I really wanted to include it.

Eric Clapton: Live In San Diego with Special Guest JJ Cale (2016)

From justlistentothis.co.uk

When the buzz about JJ Cale first started, he brought his band over from the US to play in Victoria in London. The show started with a row of musicians getting into the groove. Eventually one stepped up to a mike and began to growl..so THAT was JJ! The set flowed along, real foot-tapping stuff. A slight bearded figure moved in the background and plugged in a Strat. I leaned over to my partner of the time and whispered. She loudly and scornfully exclaimed ‘THAT’s never Eric Clapton !!’ But it was and I enjoyed her week-long silent sulk at being proved wrong when eventually JJ introduced him..…

Cut to San Diego in March 2007 and EC and band take the stage to perform a show. I say ‘band’ but this ensemble includes Derek Trucks, Doyle Bramhall II, Willie Weeks on bass – yes the Donny Hathaway Live star – piano genius Chris Stainton and drummer Steve Jordan. It’s an AweChestra. The show starts with ‘Tell The Truth’ and a flourish of acoustic guitar, then Trucks greasy sneering slide and an impassioned vocal. The plodding ‘Key To The Highway’ follows, I hate this number and every act seems to do it! Some fluid guitar from Eric, here and sparkling piano. Things improve with ‘Got To Get Better In A Little While’ over belting drums and great funky axe from Doyle who as we all know would hold his own in Funkadelic.

‘Little Wing’ is respectful of Jimi and Jordan does a great Noel Redding tribute but too many acts do this number. What this cut does do emphasise the good recording quality of the show as presented here.

‘Anyday’ is a bit of a playtime for the guitars and Trucks in particular as the Clapton/Whitlock song is played out. Sounds very Allmans/ Tedeschi-Trucks.

Then for the next five numbers the crew are joined by the man himself – JJ Cale

‘Anyway The Wind Blows’ chugs into earshot, a tad fast and with the instruments layering up over the intro. Cale sounds fine and the band keep it clipped to let him sing out; ‘After Midnight’ has a cool piano start and a roaring reception from the audience. Trucks and Clapton chip in restrained solos. Five and a half minutes of bliss. ‘Who Am I Telling You’ is a lesser-known song with a terrific vocal from JJ and has an Arthur Alexander tinge underlined by the distant Hammond of Tim Carmon.

Trucks weeps through his strings. ‘Don’t Cry Sister’ is meatier fare, with a soothing joint vocal on a song JJ might have written for Ray Charles, the guitars going for an organic weave. ‘Cocaine’ retains its understated darkness and the crowd goes nuts when it starts. It’s now an over-familiar song with every roots band playing it at some time or another, but I guess this is close to a definitive edition, given those involved and the drums sound purposeful.

The rest of the record definitely evokes the days of Derek & The Dominoes at times. ‘Motherless Children’ tears it up. Lively and electric, for sure; ‘Little Queen Of Spades’ from the Robert Johnson canon is taken as a steady Bobby Bland style blues and as ever with Eric at this tempo, out come the default Albert King licks heard in Cream days on ‘Strange Brew’ and ever since. A shuffle take on ‘Further On Up The Road’ is pretty listenable, with the two backing singers in gospel mode.

‘Wonderful Tonight’ is a song everybody loves. Except me, for whom it is maudlin and can’t be over soon enough. However ‘Layla’ is the one those attending really want to hear, especially when Derek can sub for Duane fairly well. Of course it remains Albert King’s ‘As the Years Go Passing By’ speeded up in essence but the turnaround chords elevate it to a long-time favourite. Yes, they do include the slow bit! Robert Cray comes aboard for ‘Crossroads’, to close out the show. The incendiary ‘Wheels Of Fire’ version will never be bettered but Cray sings it well here and the band by now are running smoothly

A lot of well-played music featuring stellar players and a lovely spot by the great JJ Cale, so all in all a fan-pleasing release.

J.J. Cale Naturally (1971)

From sputnikmusic.com

Well this sure seems like a serious record as the songs are getting dang longer! ‘You Got Something’ runs on for FOUR minutes, goshdarnit! And this, mind you, at a time when the punk conscience was emerging on the scene! And only ONE song runs on less than two minutes! And this, mind you, at a time when the prog dinosaur was being

Uniquely, JJ Cale’s claim to fame is not through his music alone but other artists’ interpretation of it. Cocaine and After Midnight by Eric Clapton and Call Me the Breeze by Lynyrd Skynyrd were huge hits while many other bands including Beck, Dire Straits, and even Spiritualized would incorporate Cale’s music into their own.

This makes sense when you consider JJ usually used very sparse arrangements that left a lot of room for expansion. You could compare a Cale song to the storyboards of a film, the framing of a house, painting a picture with only primary colors, or even shadows on a wall i.e. Allegory of the Cave. Its up to the listener to decide whether they prefer the less is more approach of Cale or the more intense audio assault of his peers.

Naturally was the first solo album Cale recorded and it featured what would become his calling card, minimalistic guitar/vocal interplay and a laid back vibe. This is a short, 12 song record that brings to mind desert settings and low key affairs. It also features his one hit song, Crazy Mama, his only song to ever chart which is surprising to me since at least half these songs are more melodious and engaging.

While the meat of this album is Cale’s singing and fretwork he is able to avoid creating tedious music often associated with the sing/songwriter stereotype. He accomplishes this by expanding the instrumentation. Besides guitar, bass, and drums he often includes piano, saxophone, harmonica, violin, a horn section, and tambourines. Combining these instruments adds some spice to the music which helps make up for Cale’s vocal range which is notoriously limited but at least somewhat emotive.

The songwriting, while adequate and fitting, is more about creating rhythms that the instruments can then build upon. When done correctly now you have solid grooves that Cale will then often highlight by subtle guitar runs full of syncopation throughout. Neil Young’s earlier quote on JJ is not declaring that Cale is a guitar master who shreds better than the rest but rather that he is able to get as much expression out of his instrument as even the great ones, regardless of speed or volume.

For a man who was known for his shyness and humble disposition Cale really did enjoy a long successful career, playing and touring almost until his death. This record is usually considered his best but in typical Cale fashion nothing immediately jumps out at you. Even the last track fades away unassumingly leaving the listener as chill as the album just experienced and in my opinion the ability to enjoy said album is not necessarily about appreciating the songwriting or even the music but the mood that it lends to you with association.

J.J. Cale interview – Cult Heroes: J.J. Cale, rock’s ultimate best-kept secret (2016)

From loudersound.com by Max Bell Nov 2016

Eric Clapton considered J.J. Cale the master. Neil Young said he was as good as Hendrix. So why did Cale, featured here in one of his last interviews, never get the recognition he deserved?

John Weldon Cale is sitting in the kitchen of his rural ranch-style bungalow with the blinds drawn against the sun, staring at the wall. He lives in Southern California, in San Diego County, outside of Escondido – which is Spanish for ‘hidden’, and that’s just the way he likes it; nice and quiet, as befits the undisputed king of minimal southern rock, the epitome of laid-back, but a sonic architect just the same. His old Airstream motor home parked out front may be re-commissioned: Cale is about to go back on the road to promote new album, Roll On. Ever since his companion, an English Springer called Buddy, passed on, Cale has been on his lonesome. “Life without an animal is terrible,” he sighs. “I loved that old dawg. And Foley before him. Keep meaning to get me a new one.” His nearest neighbours are three acres away – unless you count his close friends, the squirrels, racoons, rabbits and birds running round his modest estate. “It’s like a Disney cartoon out here,” he chuckles.

The 70-year old Oklahoman, or Okie, with a long drawl is weather-beaten, with a grey beard, looking not so much unshaven as unshaveable. Dressed in ancient Lee jeans and a work shirt, and pulling on a Kool, Cale admits to being a hypochondriac. “I’m gettin’ by okay for an old man, though since the rain came and ended the drought I got flu. Still alive though. At my age that’s a good deal,” he chuckles. “Any day above ground…”

Forever typecast as a recluse, Roll On is ol’ JJ’s sixteenth record. And it’s terrific, on a par with his early 70s albums – Naturally, Really and Okie – which turned him from a 32-year-old late developer into an American legend, albeit of the best-kept secret kind. It’s safe to say that without his influence Eric Clapton and Mark Knopfler would not be where they are today, while Neil Young says: “When I think of great guitarists I think of Jimi Hendrix and JJ Cale. There is no one better than him.”

Clapton’s cover of Cale’s After Midnight on the former’s 1970 debut solo album gave his mentor a weird career, though he still reckons “my songs are way more famous than I am. My bass playing friend, the late Carl Radle, played him [Clapton] the tune.” When he later heard that Clapton had covered it, he thought it was a wind-up. “Then Delaney Bramlett [of Delaney And Bonnie] talked me up. That was like discovering oil in your backyard. But I just do it and move on. Hell, I can’t tell one of my albums from the next. I try not to make ’em sound like anything else, but everything I do sounds like me. It is what it is.”

Roll On features Clapton on the title track, a song that Cale has been playing live for more than 20 years. The two men have combined before, for the The Road To Escondido album [2006], a mutual admiration project which won Cale his one and only Grammy – much to Clapton’s delight and embarrassment.

“Originally I asked him if he’d consider making an album with me,” Clapton recalls. “ I really wanted him to produce me, because I’m a fan of his recorded sound. His minimalism is the way I want to go. He has a unique approach, and I wanted to avail myself of that.

“So I moved in with him for a week, to go over material and to get to know each other. Not a lot of work got done, but that wasn’t the point. His idea was to bring in the musicians and record ‘live’. I thought we might have a problem capturing the ‘groove’ I heard on his demos, usually created with drum machines etc and such an important part of his sound. Eventually the Road… album became a duet thing, which improved it and made the experience more memorable for me. “Hanging out with John is one of my favourite pastimes. He’s got a great sense of humour, and has been misunderstood by most people, referring to him as a recluse when he’s very sociable, open and charismatic. He just prefers his own company. JJ has never even been nominated for the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame, while I’ve been inducted three times. In my opinion he’s one of the most important artists in the history of rock, representing the greatest asset his country has ever had. Yet a lot of people have never even heard of him.”

Clapton’s involvement changed that to an extent, although the Grammy didn’t faze Cale. “That is still in the box. I may put it on the mantle but I probably won’t. My domestic duties are kinda slow. It didn’t really change my life, ’cept it was a nice pat on the back. Good for my ego. Me and Eric laughed about it, but I have to thank him for boosting my bank balance by recording After Midnight on his first solo record, then cutting Cocaine and I’ll Make Love To You Anytime. Same with Lynyrd Skynyrd, who cut They Call Me The Breeze. Man, they rocked that up! They cut it so hard it astonished me! I wasn’t aware they were even listening to me. Then those kids all died. That was too bad.”https://www.youtube.com/embed/EsIqEq9OFxE

Cale hasn’t had a hit himself since 1972, when a Little Rock DJ flipped his Magnolia single and hammered the B-side, Crazy Mama, which eventually reached No.22 on the Billboard chart. Top Nashville guitarist Mac Gayden, of Area Code 615/Barefoot Jerry fame, who played the distinctive wah-wah slide on that track, recalls the session: “Cale’s producer, Audie Ashworth, hired me for the studio at Bradley’s Barn, outside Nashville. We ran through it one time only, then Cale gets on the talkback and says: ‘Come on in, Mac, and sign the time card, you’re done.’ I said: ‘I can do it better.’ He said: ‘No, you can’t.’ I swear it only took seven minutes – first take.

“That cut launched the career of one of America’s most emulated guitarists. John was a total joy, very loosey-goosey with a don’t-sweat-the-small-stuff vibe. In a business packed with people trying to be hip and cool, he is a rare personality.”

Shortly afterwards, Gayden joined Cale’s band for a tour supporting Black Oak Arkansas whose teenage audience started throwing bottles and booing them in Baton Rouge, LA. “So we turned our amps to full throttle and let rip – and it worked. Next night we played the Warehouse in New Orleans with Quicksilver Messenger Service. JJ still played on a stool with his back on the crowd, but they got it.”

Gayden also witnessed a rare flash of Cale temper. “The last time I saw John was in LA a few years ago, at his house. We talked about ‘old friends’, and then suddenly John started to ‘rag’ on Mark Knopfler. He mentioned how much he didn’t appreciate him ripping off his guitar style and his singing. Just as John was reaching a fever pitch, guess who calls? None other than Mark Knopfler himself, inviting JJ to go on the road and open for his upcoming tour. John was nice, but hung up and started to ‘rag’ him again. I left in total agreement. A few weeks later I read that he was opening for Mark on his US tour. I guess imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

Cale – who Clapton calls “a superior musician… one of the masters” – runs in a straight line. In the late 50s and early 60s he cut a sequence of rockabilly and rock’n’roll sides with his own Quintette and helped create the Tulsa Sound with fellow Oklahomans David Gates and Leon Russell (Bridges). In 1965 he moved to Los Angeles when pop producer Snuff Garrett told him that psychedelia was a-happening. Cale migrated and hung out with members of Ronnie Hawkins And The Hawks (the nascent Band), before making the one-off album A Trip Down The Sunset Strip in 1967 with old Okie pals he christened The Leathercoated Minds.

The LP contained super-fast acid takes on the Yardbirds’ Over Under Sideways Down, the Byrds’ Eight Miles High, Donovan’s Sunshine Superman, and a few originals composed under the influence of LSD and plenty of pot. “I hate that album,” Cale says. “I’ve tried to burn it whenever I see one. We bought into the psychedelic scene but it was a bad imitation. You guys might like it, but you’re nuts! I enjoyed LA though. I played at all the East LA bars. We supported Johnny Rivers when he was hot, and I saw Love and The Doors. I also saw Otis Redding, who was better. I think I was only the third act ever to perform at the Whisky. Club owner Elmer Valentine gave me the JJ handle. Said it would look good on the marquee. Smartest thing I ever did.”

While the hierarchy of young, long-haired LA groups thrived, Cale found he’d outworn his welcome. He had a spell as an engineer, working on Blue Cheer’s debut Vincebus Eruptum, but felt out of place among the acid crowd. “I spent too much time drinking and got real poor, real fast,” he recalls. “LA ain’t a good place to be hungry. So I came home and got a job in a country band and lived in motels, earning 10 bucks a night and all the beer you wanted. I really thought I was finished and would end up selling shoes, until Eric cut After Midnight. I was going to be a construction worker, or an insurance man. I was that down on luck.”

One day, Audie Ashworth, Cale’s future business partner, told him that Clapton had covered his song. He didn’t believe it until the first royalty cheque hit the mat. “Audie got me to Nashville around 1971 and we made Naturally for $3,000-$4,000. This is when the south was gonna rise again, like Charlie Daniels sang. Nashville, Muscle Shoals, Alabama, Memphis – suddenly they became hip towns. The players were real good and people like Bob Dylan and Steve Miller were recording in our neck of the woods. It was good timing because rock folks discovered country. The studios were good and professional and the guitarists could play a lick. Like the Lovin’ Spoonful song [Nashville Cats] says about the 1,352 pickers in Nashville.”

The stoned, sexy calm of Cale’s albums gave him instant cult status among discerning record buyers. “Yeah, but I didn’t put Nashville on the map. Perhaps to Europeans I helped, but the Grand Ole Opry was famous since the 40s. My heroes remained the same: Charlie Parker, Elvis ’fore he got too operatic, Chuck Berry, Clarence ‘Gatemouth’ Brown and Mose Allison. I loved The Beatles’ Rubber Soul and that song We Can Work It Out. I loved Dylan’s folk stuff, Randy Newman, Nilsson. I don’t mind stealing a lick or borrowing a technique off them. I’m a musician, that’s what we do.”

Naturally was an easy album to make for Cale, since he had hundreds of unrecorded songs in his locker. The albums Really and Okie followed in short order, the former written on the way to Shelter Studios and finished in six days. “Audie and the label owners, Leon Russell and Denny Cordell, phoned every six months: ‘When’s the next one ready?’ My attitude was always: ‘What was wrong with the last one?’ But I got sucked in.”

In 1976 Cale embarked on his first of two European jaunts, promoting his most successful album, Troubadour. I saw him play at Hammersmith Odeon. It’s an indelible, dope-crazed memory. “I don’t remember it myself,” Cale laughs. “It was a blur of VW vans and big cities. The fish and chips were good in London. Eric sat in with us, unannounced. I’ve spoken to people who didn’t know he played! “Am I laid back? I guess. I call my music ‘humming mud’, and my singing, if you can call it singing, is craggy and baggy. My range is kinda limited. One and a half notes – on a good day.”

Troubadour included the candid drug song Cocaine, while in Cale’s touring band was guitarist Christine Lakeland, who many have taken to be JJ’s muse. It’s thought that Cale has never married, but may have several ‘wives’. “Hmm… I don’t mind a bit of innuendo and sensuality but I don’t discuss my private life,” he says. He once filled out a Guardian newspaper questionnaire and omitted to answer anything remotely personal other than ‘What vehicle do you own?’ (truck and motor home), ‘Object always carried’ (pocket knife), ‘Motto’ (do unto others before they do unto you) and ‘How would you like to die?’ (a very old man). ‘Significant others’ didn’t use up any ink from his pen.

“Nobody likes to be followed to the bedroom. Well, maybe some people do,” he smiles. “Christine is a very old friend. She’s way more of a recluse than I am.” It’s true. Lakeland’s website contains one page: a photograph of her holding an electric guitar. Marvellous.

The thing about JJ Cale is that he doesn’t change and doesn’t need to. He was good when he started and he’s good now. Like his song says: ‘They call me the breeze/I keep blowing down the road.’ He ain’t broke, he don’t need fixing. “I’ve always been rock’n’roll and country; then again I’m more jazz than your average Britney Spears. But I ain’t a hermit. I’m home a lot writing songs cos that’s what I am. You don’t get that done by playing basketball…”

Five years ago Cale returned to his roots when he recorded the album To Tulsa And Back, hooking up with his old cronies Lakeland, Bill Boatman and Jimmy Karstein, and resolving his fall-out with Ashworth, who became exasperated every time Cale told him: “Send me the money and let the younger guys have the fame.” It was going to be called To Nashville And Back, but Ashworth died before the tapes were loaded.

New album Roll On closes with a song called Bring Down The Curtain, which says: ‘Enough is enough/Can’t do it no more.’ Is that it? Adios, amigos? “I don’t know. I wouldn’t have put that on but it is a good ending. Didn’t mean to depress ya. I’m at an age where I am looking at the end of the clock. Intimations of mortality? I guess. Mind, Willie Nelson is older an’ me and he’s still going. So don’t take it too literally. I’m not only a reality writer, I’m a fictitious writer. I like to amaze myself with a cute twist and turn.”

Perhaps that’s the ultimate self-analysis from an artist who doesn’t do ‘projects’ and only signs one-off deals. “I don’t ever think I’m making a record,” Cale says. “I just do it, and when it falls into place, 75 per cent cohesive, I’m always surprised. I listen to it and think: ‘Is it any good?’ ‘Are the songs any good?’ ‘Is it a concept?’ I don’t have a clue. It’s just natural evolution. Everything I do is an accident. But it’s my accident.”

And, he points out. “No one tells me what to do. There’s no one at my door. I’m famous for Cocaine, Call Me The Breeze and, hell, they might even make After Midnight the Oklahoma State Song soon. It don’t bug me if that’s all the average guy knows. I don’t make music most young people would like. Some do. I isn’t no rapper, though I like rap now they made the lyrics more interesting.”

Suddenly Cale gets a fax confirming the bitter-sweet news that he’s booked to tour California and beyond. “Oh Lord,” he sighs. “I’d better watch my voice. I’ve got to play well enough so people don’t throw tomatoes at me. If I’m healthy enough I might even get on an aeroplane and see you. Maybe.”

Eric Clapton & JJ Cale The Road to Escondido (2006)

From rollingstone.com Nov 30th 2006

‘He led me to another path, of finding integrity in the groove,’ Clapton says

“When I was struggling with the Seventies guitar-hero hype, he was the light in the darkness,” Eric Clapton says of singer-songwriter J.J. Cale. “He led me to another path, of finding integrity in the groove.”

This is what Cale has to say of Clapton: “He can really play the guitar and really sing. That’s the difference between him and I.” Cale’s deep, rough voice erupts in laughter. “I have to manipulate my sound to get it right. He does it on the natch.”

Clapton and Cale have been a mutual-admiration society ever since Clapton had a Top Twenty hit in 1970 with an exuberant cover of Cale’s “After Midnight.” The slinky country-funk in Cale’s writing and the demo-like intimacy of his records were major influences on classic Clapton albums such as 46z Ocean Boulevard and Slowhand. The two have also played together onstage, most recently at Clapton’s 2004 Crossroads festival in Dallas, where he sat in with Cale for a whole set.

But their new album, The Road to Escondido, is the first they have made together. “My original request was, ‘I want to make an album, and I want you to produce it,’” explains Clapton, who came up with the idea shortly after that Crossroads show. “If you ask me, he’s the best producer in the world.” Then, in the year leading up to recording, in Los Angeles in August 2005, Cale wrote a fat batch of new songs for the record, including the creeping blues “Heads in Georgia” and the topical “When This War Is Over.” 

“In the middle of the sessions, Eric came to me and said, ‘I’ve decided to make this an Eric Clapton-J.J. Cale album,’” Cale recalls. “I went, ‘Oh, no, man.’ Because it was sounding good with just him singing.” Clapton doesn’t agree. “It gives me a thrill when I hear him,” he says of Cale. “The way he sings, his voice sounds like it’s inside your head.”

The Road to Escondido – the title refers to a town in Southern California near where Cale lives – has the natural glow and nimble jump of a house-party jam. In fact, the album was mostly recorded live in the studio, with guest contributions by John Mayer (who co-wrote “Hard to Thrill” with Clapton), slide guitarist Derek Trucks, bluesman Taj Mahal (playing harmonica) and the late organist Billy Preston in his last major session. But the album’s quality belies the striking differences between Clapton and Cale. The former is British, one of rock’s best and most famous guitarists and, even at sixty-one, a tireless recording artist and touring act. Cale, who will be sixty-eight on December 5th, was born in Tulsa, Oklahoma, is best known for writing songs that are hits for others (such as “Cocaine,” also covered by Clapton, and “Call Me the Breeze,” recorded by Lynyrd Skynyrd), and doesn’t like straying far from home.

“I’m more of an engineer than a singer-songwriter or guitar player,” Cale says dryly. A studio journeyman in L.A. in the Sixties, Cale didn’t release his first album, Naturally, until 1972, two years after Clapton recorded “After Midnight.” And Cale created much of the back-porch flavor on his early records – dusty, compressed guitars, ticktock beats and his ethereal growl – with studio effects and primitive drum machines. “That’s what Eric was hearing then,” Cale cracks, “me using recording machinery to cover up my lack of talent.”

Clapton and Cale didn’t meet until 1976 – Cale was headlining a show in London, and Clapton was one of his sidemen for the evening. “He’s very charismatic – warm and self-effacing,” Clapton says of his hero. “I asked him not long ago, ‘What do you do with your time?’ He said, ‘I buy guitars and play them.’ He leads a simple life. He does a lot of work” – Cale has made more than a dozen studio albums, the most recent being 2004’s To Tulsa and Back – “but it’s not on a high profile.” 

That is by choice. “Eric’s been on tour since last spring – I don’t know how he does it,” Cale says admiringly. “I couldn’t do that when I was a young fella.”

Clapton insists he will get Cale on the road next spring – “if it’s somewhere he can drive to,” Clapton adds, laughing. “As long as we’re in his neck of the woods, I think it will be agreeable to him. He doesn’t like getting on buses or planes. He won’t even go in the elevator. We’re staying at the Four Seasons here in L.A., and his room is on the second floor.”

Eric Clapton Live In San Diego With Special Guest J.J. Cale (2016)

From glidemagazine.com

Because Live in San Diego captures a seasoned road ensemble at the peak of its powers, led by an iconic musician clearly inspired to nearly his highest level of playing, this DVD of Eric Clapton’s, issued to coincide with the archetypal guitar hero’s appearances at Madison Square Garden, may cast something of an unintentionally negative light on those New York shows.

It’s an effect eerily similar to that which arose in the wake of releasing the double CD audio counterpart last September, just four short months after a studio album, I Still Do: produced by the same man, Glyn Johns, who oversaw the arguable zenith of Clapton’s solo career, Slowhand, that record had hardly the same response in the contemporary marketplace.Being able to visually observe this near-decade old concert recording ratifies the

Being able to visually observe this near-decade old concert recording ratifies the crackling energy generated by this 2007 lineup, the most guitar heavy ensemble Clapton’s ever had. Finding his own level within this talented triumvirate including Derek Trucks and Doyle Bramhall II dramatically elevates Eric’s own level of playing right from the start on “Tell the Truth.” And the extent of his overall concentration is obvious, not just during his solos, but also when he surrenders the spotlight to one of his fretboard partners: as on “Anyday,” he remains fully engaged in his supporting role.

The generally emotive and often feverish vocal delivery of Eric himself is one of the real highlights here as on “Little Queen of Spades. ” Besides Bramhall’s own bristling instrument interplay with Clapton and Trucks, noticeably balanced during this upbeat arrangement of “Key to the Highway,” he also lends husky vocals at various points, an example of an elevated level of democratic imagination brought to bear on arrangements of this choice material.

Equally representative of the vintage tunes included during the course of this two hour concert is “Got to Get Better in A Little While,” another selection from the days of Derek & the Dominos, suffused with syncopation via  the  bass solo from Willie Weeks and drummer Steve Jordan’s percussion interlude. Freed from the necessity to reinforce the frontman’s own singing—a measure of his marked improvement in singing over the years despite the lack of a distinctive voice–Michelle John and Sharon White’s vocals are as angelic as they are haunting on  “Little Wing,” another cull from Layla And Other Assorted Love Songs.

The title song of that iconic album benefits from the delicate intricacy of Trucks’ slide, especially on the tune’s famous coda. Meanwhile,  Robert Cray aids in hearkening back to Clapton’s days in Cream, with “Crossroads,” but, to his great credit, this contemporary bluesman finds a place for himself in the guitar corps, refusing to allow himself to become superfluous even as this encore builds to a frenzied conclusion.

Customary staples of Eric Clapton’s stage repertoire in the form of  “After Midnight” and “Cocaine” receive a tangible freshening on Live in San Diego via the extended presence of J. J. Cale. The author of those two songs, the latter of which provides a bridge back to the full band after what amounts to a mini-set in which he appears, shares an easygoing intimacy with Clapton somewhat belying its passion (reaffirmed in the bonus footage of  the two  rehearsing); the director, Martyn Atkins, who also worked on films of EC’s Crossroads Guitar Festivals, captures the drama intrinsic to this intense musicianship as well as its warm fraternity.

Sans sit-ins, the core ensemble gathers steam in the homestretch, not surprisingly on some familiar blues paced with a glowing, country-ish take on “Wonderful Tonight.” “Further On Up the Road” and “Motherless Children” appear in a shared instrumental offensive, with keyboardists Tim Carman and former Joe Cocker sideman Chris Stainton supplying color and freeing the guitarists from undue rhythm support, that’s much more aggressive compared to the overly commercial approach that has often drained the fire from Eric Clapton’s work over the years, proving once again this man needs a genuine challenge to ascend to perform at his all around best.

Because Live in San Diego fully captures that rare occurrence, this video,  like it’s audio counterpart, should be ranked as one of the most powerful concert recordings of what’s now a fifty-year plus career.

Eric Clapton – J.J. Cale And Eric Clapton: The Road To Escondido (2006)

From popmatters.com

There are certain pairings in music that seem to bring to mind a moment in time when everything for the tandem hit on all cylinders. Often times the tandem do not leave well enough alone and quickly get back into the studio to recreate magic that is no longer there. The results are often depressing, and even diminish that initial magic. But some duos know to quit while way ahead. Eric Clapton and Jean Jacques Cale struck gold together when Clapton performed Cale’s “Cocaine” for his Slowhand masterpiece back in 1977. And, of course, “After Midnight” for his solo self-titled debut years before “Cocaine”. Clapton’s career continued to take off, while Cale’s discography, in terms of quality, resembled one of those early airplanes that got 20 feet off the ground before crashing hard into a chicken coop.

But recently, Cale’s made an upturn of sorts, with his fabulous To Tulsa and Back release in 2004 putting him back on target. Now, both he and Clapton have tempted fate again by reuniting for this album. And while Cale has penned the vast majority of songs here, Clapton seems to have most of the lead vocals. A good example of this blend is the opener “Danger”, which has all the laidback, relaxing nature of a Cale arrangement with Clapton at times giving it a slightly blues-meets-psychedelic flavoring. Clapton’s guitar solo is quite audible, but is more of an accent on the already well-established groove. And like any good tune, it’s in no rush to wrap up, allowing both parties to flesh things out perfectly.

One of the highlights of this album is how it remains rather simple and straightforward despite the talent rounding things out. John Mayer is here, Doyle Bramhill II is here, Derek Trucks is here, Albert Lee is here, the late Billy Preston was here, as was Taj Mahal. “Head’s in Georgia” is a slow, bluesy romp that again has all the hastiness of a Mark Knopfler track. A slightly different, bouncy arrangement comes during the pleasing “Missing Person”, which seems to mix the best of both Clapton’s and Cale’s musical worlds. Neither sounds out of place on this track, while both bring out the best in each other. Perhaps the first tune that sounds a bit forced but still shines is the chugging, boogie-fuelled, and swinging “When the War Is Over”, which sounds like it came from some Louisiana church one sunny Sunday morning, despite the political tone to the tune.

After a tired and rather stale “Sporting Life Blues”, both Clapton and Cale pull themselves up by their bootstraps for a rambling, freewheeling country-tinged hoedown entitled “Dead End Road”, which has them galloping headlong from start to finish. While all musicians here are on the same page, one highlight is the work of fiddler Dennis Caplinger throughout most of the number. But after that, they get back to Cale-like basics with a shuffling, slower “It’s Easy” that could have fallen off the closing moments of To Tulsa and Back; a very loose and toe-tapping kind of number that merely ambles along. But this momentum hits a brick wall hard with the tired, boring, and bland “Hard to Thrill”, which would make even diehard Clapton fans less than thrilled with the effort.

Fortunately, Cale is there yet again to come to the rescue with the fabulous, genre-bending “Anyway the Wind Blows”, which brings to mind a musician like Ramsay Midwood — rough around the edges, but still able to deliver the goods. The lyrics, while sounding as if they were written on the back of a napkin somewhere on the road, are short but to the point. Think of Atkins and Knopfler circa Neck and Neck and you get the idea for this number that hits you square in the gut. Or hips, for that matter. It might be the first recording of what could be dubbed “Old Fogey Rap”, as Cale and Clapton dish out the lyrics rather rapidly. Although most of the material thus far is above average, this track is one of the few songs you’ll find yourself hitting the repeat button for.

The album is a very pretty string of recordings, with Clapton’s best performance being on “Three Little Girls”, one of his own numbers that seems to revisit his “Tears in Heaven” singer-songwriter, folksy vibe. It’s a very sparse but spectacular number that has him on acoustic guitar, yet still quite capable of weaving his intricate magic. This feeling continues later on during the almost hymnal “Who Am I Telling You?”, whuch is highlighted by some great organ work. Just as strong is the reggage-tinged “Don’t Cry Sister” that seems to revisit the blueprint of a song like “I Shot the Sheriff”.

If Clapton and Cale don’t get back together soon for another album, it could be a missed opportunity. But at least they had the good sense to record this one, an album that ranks up there with some of the their best individual work.