B.B. King/Eric Clapton [extended]

• Live at the Regal [MCA, 1964]
• Blues Is King [BluesWay, 1967]
• 16 Greatest Hits [Galaxy, 1968]
• Completely Well [Bluesway, 1969] B
• On Tour [Atco, 1970] A-
• Layla [Atco, 1970] A+
• Eric Clapton [Polydor, 1970] B
• Indianola Mississippi Seeds [ABC, 1970] B
• Live in Cook County Jail [ABC, 1971] A-
• B.B. King in London [ABC, 1971] B
• History of Eric Clapton [Atco, 1972] B
• L.A. Midnight [ABC, 1972] B+
• Guess Who [ABC, 1972] B+
• The Best of B.B. King [ABC, 1973] A-
• Derek and the Dominos in Concert [Polydor, 1973] A-
• Eric Clapton's Rainbow Concert [RSO, 1973] C-
• To Know You Is to Love You [ABC, 1973] B-
• 461 Ocean Boulevard [RSO, 1974] A
• Friends [ABC, 1974] C
• Together for the First Time . . . Live [ABC/Dunhill, 1974] B+
• There's One in Every Crowd [RSO, 1975] C+
• Lucille Talks Back [ABC, 1975] B+
• E.C. Was Here [RSO, 1975] B-
• No Reason to Cry [RSO, 1976] B-
• Slowhand [RSO, 1977] C+
• King Size [ABC, 1977] B-
• Midnight Believer [ABC, 1978] B
• Backless [RSO, 1979] B-
• Take It Home [MCA, 1979] B+
• Just One Night [RSO, 1980] B+
• There Must Be a Better World Somewhere [MCA, 1981] B+
• Money and Cigarettes [Duck/Warner Bros., 1983] B+
• Behind the Sun [Duck, 1985] C-
• The Best of B.B. King Volume 1 [Ace, 1986]
• Journeyman [Duck/Reprise, 1989] B-
• The Layla Sessions [Polydor, 1990] B-
• The Best of B.B. King Volume One [Flair/Virgin, 1991] A
• 24 Nights [Reprise, 1991]
• Unplugged [Reprise, 1992] B-
• Blues Summit [MCA, 1993] B+
• From the Cradle [Reprise, 1994] **
• Deuces Wild [MCA, 1997] ***
• Pilgrim [Reprise, 1998] C+
• Live in Japan [MCA, 1999] ***
• Riding With the King [Reprise, 2000] ***
• Me and Mr. Johnson [Reprise, 2004]
• 80 [Geffen, 2006] *
• One Kind Favor [Geffen, 2008] *
• The Jungle [Ace, 2009]
• Wynton Marsalis & Eric Clapton Play the Blues: Live From Jazz at Lincoln Center [Reprise Jazz, 2011] A-

See Also:

• B.B. King
• B.B. King & Bobby Bland
• B.B. King & Friends
• Eric Clapton
• Derek and the Dominos
• Delaney & Bonnie & Friends With Eric Clapton
• Wynton Marsalis & Eric Clapton

Consumer Guide Reviews:

B.B. King: Live at the Regal [MCA, 1964]
[CG70s: A Basic Record Library; CG80: Rock Library: Before 1980]

B.B. King: Blues Is King [BluesWay, 1967]
B.B. King wasn't yet a legend in the rock world in 1967. But props from Eric Clapton and others meant he was getting there. His canonical LP was 1965's Live at the Regal, which showcased his songbook at Chicago's version of the Apollo. But this live album, cut at the same town's International Club, is so raw vocally and untrammeled instrumentally it cuts even that classic in retrospect. "Gambler's Blues," which King never recorded again, tears and saws rather than stings before it vows not to "crap out twice." Willie Nelson's not-yet-standard "Night Life" is all riled up. Bobby Forte's tenor sax adds a sour-mash kick throughout.

B.B. King: 16 Greatest Hits [Galaxy, 1968]
[CG80: Rock Library: Before 1980]

B.B. King: Completely Well [Bluesway, 1969]
A year ago I thought B.B. was the best live act there was and treasured several of his lps, notably Live at the Regal. Since then he has been transformed by astute management into the major attraction he should have been 10 years ago, and I hope he makes two million, but his music is not improving. There's no reason why someone as sweet-voiced as B.B. shouldn't cut his blues with ballads, but his ballad-singing is just plain schmaltzy--the taste that serves him so exquisitely in blues betrays him when he tries to be tasty. This record is good enough, especially the first side. But Live at the Regal is so much better. B

Delaney & Bonnie & Friends With Eric Clapton: On Tour [Atco, 1970]
Delaney & Bonnie are what would happen to rock and roll if it were capable of growing up--maybe they're what would happen to this country if it were capable of growing up. Whites so down-home their soul inflections sound inbred, they sing of love like teens of yore, but even though their love is quite physical it's been weathered spiritually and morally. No wonder Eric Clapton found their youthful fun and mature equanimity an antidote to the formless pretensions of Cream and Blind Faith. He certainly contributes--whenever the voices don't quite carry the one-take live performances, there he is with a terse, punchy solo that adds just the right note of strength and understanding. Nice that he's got Dave Mason (and Delaney himself) to help out. And nice that they all pay their respects to Robert Johnson and Little Richard. A-

Derek and the Dominos: Layla [Atco, 1970]
What looks at first like a slapdash studio double is in fact Eric Clapton's most carefully conceived recording. Not only did he hire Duane Allman for overdubs after basic tracks were done, but he insisted that Duane come up with just the thick, sliding phrase he (Eric) wanted before calling it a take. The resulting counterpoint is the true expression of Clapton's genius, which has always been synthetic rather than innovative, steeped in blues anti-utopianism. With Carl Radle and Jim Gordon at bottom, this album has plenty of relaxed shuffle and simple rock and roll, and Clapton's singing is generally warm rather than hot. But his meaning is realized at those searing peaks when a pained sense of limits--why does love have to be so sad, I got the bell-bottom blues, Lay-la--is posed against the good times in an explosive compression of form. A+

Eric Clapton: Eric Clapton [Polydor, 1970]
One great r&b instrumental ("Slunky"), two tracks that deserve classic status ("After Midnight" and "Let It Rain"), two that don't ("Bottle of Red Wine" and "Blues Power"), and well-played filler. I blame a conceptual error, rather than Clapton's uncertain singing, for the overall thinness. As a sideman, Clapton slipped into producer Delaney Bramlett's downhome bliss as easily as he did into Cream's blues dreamscape, but as a solo artist he can't simulate Delaney's optimism. I mean, a party song called "Blues Power" from a man with a hellhound on his trail? B

B.B. King: Indianola Mississippi Seeds [ABC, 1970]
I hate to sound like a fuddy-duddy, but the best moment here is unaccompanied--"Nobody Loves Me but My Mother," all 1:26 of it, with King singing and playing piano. B.B. King, that is--most of the piano here is by Carole King, who sounds fine, as do Leon Russell and Paul Harris. Even the strings and horns avoid disaster--B.B. goes pop with real dignity. But he's rarely brilliant, and the only songs on this record with a chance of being in his show a year from now are "Chains and Things" and Leon Russell's "Hummingbird," hooked on the deathless line "She's little and she loves me." I mean, what good does it do to perform that kind of tripe with dignity? B

B.B. King: Live in Cook County Jail [ABC, 1971]
This begins inauspiciously, with introductions and a thrown-away "Every Day I Have the Blues" (compare Live at the Regal and weep), and ends dubiously, with the sappy show-closer "Please Accept My Love." In between B.B. socks home old hits as familiar as "Sweet Sixteen" and as worthy as "Darlin' You Know I Love You" with a tough intensity he rarely brings to the studio. I prefer the horn arrangements on the Kent originals, but the unpredictable grit with which he snaps off the guitar parts makes up for any lost subtlety. A-

B.B. King: B.B. King in London [ABC, 1971]
Overlooking Alexis Korner's acoustic boogie, this encounter with Brit second-liners (famed blues devotee Ringo Starr is the big catch) and L.A. session stars is substantial stuff. "Caldonia" and "Ain't Nobody Home" are more than that. But rock with a steady roll it doesn't. Maybe Klaus Voorman, listed on bass, knows why. B

Eric Clapton: History of Eric Clapton [Atco, 1972]
A number of worthwhile oddities on this stopgap pseudo-document: the uptempo, high-echo, Spector-produced single of "Tell the Truth," a studio jam on the same tune, and King Curtis's "Teasin'," featuring God on novelty guitar. Also some less worthwhile oddities, a lot of Cream and Delaney & Bonnie, and not enough showpieces from the Yardbirds and Bluesbreakers days (those are on other labels, which means they cost money). Yet it's gone top ten. Must be a lot of collectors out there. Or maybe just people who believe in God. B

B.B. King: L.A. Midnight [ABC, 1972]
Hey, I've got an idea--how about sending B. into the studio to do a blues album? We could bring in a tuba like Taj Mahal, hire some decent rhythm players this time, call up a coupla good white guitarists--B.'ll cut the shit out of them, of course, but it can't hurt. He's got a great new iceman-cometh song, he's always good for a jam or two, and if we have to we can always do "Sweet Sixteen" again. Roots, get back, it's a take. B+

B.B. King: Guess Who [ABC, 1972]
Bluesy soul records aren't getting any easier to come by, and who am I to complain about one with the great B.B. King contributing guitar parts? "It Takes a Young Girl" and "Better Lovin' Man," which sound like standards that somehow passed me by, more than make up for the clumsy "Summer in the City" and the rereremade "Five Long Years." But the singer obviously isn't getting any younger, and when he begs comparison with Lorraine Ellison and Howard Tate on "You Don't Know Nothing About Love" he's risking more than he ought to. Which is admirable, in a way. B+

B.B. King: The Best of B.B. King [ABC, 1973]
King is human and then some--never less than intelligent but often less than inspired, especially with words. So I'm delighted at how many high points this captures--"Caldonia" and "Ain't Nobody Home" from London. "Nobody Loves Me but My Mother" (marred by unfortunate engineering tricks) from Indianola, two classic blues, and "The Thrill Is Gone," one of his greatest ballads. And though I still find "Why I Sing the Blues" self-serving and "Hummingbird" silly, they sure make classy filler. A-

Derek and the Dominos: Derek and the Dominos in Concert [Polydor, 1973]
In a way, the absence of Duane Allman from this set is a blessing. Instead of striving fruitlessly to match the high-tension interweave of the studio versions, D&D function as the Eric Clapton Band, rolling easy the way they learned to with Delaney & Bonnie. Clapton's vocals are rough and winning, and he gets to deliver his warm, clear, rapid runs of notes and slurs, well, how to say it--in concert rather than in competition (with Duane, with Jack and Ginger, with himself). Even "Bottle of Red Wine" and "Blues Power" make sense on-stage. Warning: the drum solo is on side two. A-

Eric Clapton: Eric Clapton's Rainbow Concert [RSO, 1973]
Featuring organizer Pete Townshend, affable Ronnie Wood, former bandmate Steve Winwood of Traffic, Jim Capaldi of Traffic, Rebop of Traffic, and how could I forget Jimmy Karstein? Also featuring six soggy songs that have been crisp in the past. C-

B.B. King: To Know You Is to Love You [ABC, 1973]
The Stevie Wonder-composed title track isn't blues or even soul--it's one of those slow, funky grooves that smolders along for minutes before you notice you're dripping from the heat, and it almost justifies the lame idea of sending King into Sigma Sound with Dave Crawford. Elsewhere King sings indifferent songs sincerely, recites a poem he wrote, and plays his guitar when he gets the chance. B-

Eric Clapton: 461 Ocean Boulevard [RSO, 1974]
By opening the first side with "Motherless Children" and closing it with "I Shot the Sheriff," Clapton puts the rural repose of his laid-back-with-Leon music into a context of deprivation and conflict, adding bite to soft-spoken professions of need and faith that might otherwise smell faintly of the most rural of laid-back commodities, bullshit. And his honesty has its reward: better sex. The casual assurance you can hear now in his singing goes with the hip-twitching syncopation he brings to Robert Johnson's "Steady Rolling Man" and Elmore James's "I Can't Hold Out," and though the covers are what make this record memorable it's on "Get Ready," written and sung with Yvonne Elliman, that his voice takes on a mellow, seductive intimacy he's never come close to before. A

B.B. King: Friends [ABC, 1974]
If Dave Crawford really wants to turn B.B. into a major "contemporary" soul singer, he shouldn't make him sing Dave Crawford's songs. Best cut: the instrumental. C

B.B. King & Bobby Bland: Together for the First Time . . . Live [ABC/Dunhill, 1974]
This is my kind of exploitation--a commercial gimmick that gets two masters back to their form. An honorable document it is, too, especially Bland's part. King's voice and guitar have both been more searing, the latter within recent memory, and though I'd rather hear him singing familiar old blues than mediocre new pop, the classic material does resist renewal, which is why he and Bland do so much pop these days. Sometimes, too, the joking interaction sounds a little uncomfortable--almost as if they're rivals or something. B+

Eric Clapton: There's One in Every Crowd [RSO, 1975]
This is the J.J. Cale record we were afraid Eric was going to make (ho-hum) when he signed up those Leon Russell sidemen (yawn) for 461 Ocean Boulevard. Only for J.J. (think I'll turn in) the nice tunes come naturally. C+

B.B. King: Lucille Talks Back [ABC, 1975]
In which King expresses himself by (a) following "Have Faith" with "Everybody Lies a Little" (b) covering Lowell Fulson, Z.Z. Hill, and Ann Peebles (c) conversing with his guitar and (d) producing himself. Personal to Dave Crawford: listen hard to those horns. B+

Eric Clapton: E.C. Was Here [RSO, 1975]
From Clapton a live album is welcome these days. At the very least it guarantees that his head was higher than his feet at time of recording, and live albums being what they are it also assures plenty of what he does best, which is play guitar. But though Clapton's choked lyricism can be exciting, he does have trouble breaking loose, and because George Terry's sound is so like his own their colloquies don't spark much. Besides, this is basically a blues album--four of the six cuts fit the category with varying degrees of authenticity--and I expect a blues album to be sung as well as played. B-

Eric Clapton: No Reason to Cry [RSO, 1976]
A well-made, rather likable rock and roll LP that shows more pride and joy than the standard El Lay studio product, probably because the characters here assembled don't do this kind of thing all that much. The words are trite but the singing is eloquent and the instrumental signature an almost irresistible pleasure. But what does it all mean? B-

Eric Clapton: Slowhand [RSO, 1977]
As MOR singles go, "Lay Down Sally" is a relief--at least it has some soul. But the album leaves the juiciest solos to George Terry, and where four years ago Eric was turning into a singer--in the manner of Pete Townshend--now he sounds like he's blown his voice. Doing what, I wonder. C+

B.B. King: King Size [ABC, 1977]
Old Chess man Esmond Edwards acquits himself with honor--the charts are sharp, the sidemen prime, and most of the songs good ones. But the mildness of the two Muddy Waters covers reminds us that King conceived his style as progressive from Muddy's Delta-Chicago gutbucket, and the segue from "Mother Fuyer," the dirtiest traditional blues in the repertoire, to Bill Withers and Brook Benton is disorienting rather than revelatory. B-

B.B. King: Midnight Believer [ABC, 1978]
In which B.B. and the Crusaders cut room for a party between sincere schlock and pseudo purism. The King's voice hasn't regained its edge and his guitar is used mostly to decorate Joe Sample's tunes, but this would rate as a mini-comeback if it included another song as good as "Never Make a Move Too Soon," the only one on the album that Sample didn't help write. B

Eric Clapton: Backless [RSO, 1979]
Whatever Eric isn't anymore--guitar genius, secret auteur, humanitarian, God--he's certainly king of the Tulsa sound, and here he contributes three new sleepy-time classics. All are listed on the cover sticker and none were written by Bob Dylan. One more and this would be creditable. B-

B.B. King: Take It Home [MCA, 1979]
The Crusaders' songwriting doesn't peak the way it did on B.B.'s 1978 collaboration with the L.A. topcats, but that's OK because it doesn't dip either. The Crusaders jam, B.B. jives and raps, and the result--give or take some background vocals and a few overworked horn charts--is the topcat equivalent of the kind of wonderful blues-bar album Bruce Iglauer of Alligator has been getting out of less accomplished musicians throughout the '70s. A small delight. B+

Eric Clapton: Just One Night [RSO, 1980]
Who needs another live double? A master guitarist whose studio albums have been cited for unfair trade practices by Sominex, that's who. All your AM and FM faves plus, served hot, raw, or both. B+

B.B. King: There Must Be a Better World Somewhere [MCA, 1981]
King's seldom been terrible, and when in 1978 he decided to stop trying for AM ballads and disco crossovers and move on up to nightclub funk he started making good albums again. With songs by Doc & Dr. (Pomus and ace sideman John) and a band anchored by the spectacularly unflappable Pretty Purdie, this is the third time in a row he's topped himself. The voice is no longer exquisite and the licks might as well be copyrighted, but King's standard is classic. Of course, it's also predictable--though the material reprises the timeworn truisms (heavy on party blues and perfidious women) with palpable enthusiasm, only "Victim" stands much chance of entering the repertoire. But if this were the first King album you'd ever hear you'd make damn sure it wasn't the last. B+

Eric Clapton: Money and Cigarettes [Duck/Warner Bros., 1983]
The groove is as inspired as this crack band of blues 'n' boogie pros can make it--when Cooder, Lee, Dunn & Hawkins play their hearts out, mere professionalism (also mere boogie) gets left behind, and Clapton's guitar hasn't rung so crisp and clear since Layla. The drawback is that the music is the message, everything Clapton boasts he ("still") has "left to say" on "Ain't Going Down," his only notable new song. If blues power were my idea of God, I might feel a transcendent presence even so. But blues power in itself isn't even my idea of a foxhole. B+

Eric Clapton: Behind the Sun [Duck, 1985]
Eric was never the nonsinger he was wont to declare himself in retiring moments, but his vocal gift only made sense when laidback was commercial. On this album he isn't retiring--he's looking for work. So he resorts to none other than Phil Collins, once his Brit-rock opposite but now just a fellow "survivor" (and how). For several reasons, including market fashion, Collins mixes the drums very high. This induces Eric to, um, project in accordance with market fashion. Sad. And also bad. C-

B.B. King: The Best of B.B. King Volume 1 [Ace, 1986]
[CG80: Rock Library: Before 1980]

Eric Clapton: Journeyman [Duck/Reprise, 1989]
What did you expect him to call it--Hack? Layla and 461 Ocean Boulevard were clearly flukes: he has no record-making knack. So he farms out the songs, sings them competently enough, and marks them with his guitar. Which sounds kind of like Mark Knopfler's. B-

Derek and the Dominos: The Layla Sessions [Polydor, 1990]
Sloughing off the myth of the album as artistic unit and denying proven spendthrifts a face-saving shred of consumerly discrimination, CD boxes are invariably about marketing rather than music. But this triple smells. Supposedly necessitated by the slovenliness of Layla's first digital remix, still for sale as a "special-price" double-CD even though the same material squeezes onto one disc here, it pretends that Eric Clapton's finest pickup band--which as the notes inadvertently remind us begat George Harrison's endless All Things Must Pass (you remember "Apple Jam," now don't you?)--deserves the kind of genius treatment that's dubious even with great jazz improvisors. And since it unearths not much Duane Allman (no surprise, since he barely met the band), it cheats on the dueling-guitars fireworks that made Layla explode. This is pop, gang--arrangements matter. Outtakes are outtakes because the keepers are better. Jams take too long to get anywhere worth going. And when a mix trades raunch for definition, the exchange is usually moot. B-

B.B. King: The Best of B.B. King Volume One [Flair/Virgin, 1991]
Like Louis Armstrong before him, King has evolved into American totem and international ambassador, so reliable that he obscures his own formal audacity. Since he concocted his music rather than inventing it whole, mutating Mississippi seeds into an all-inclusive synthesis he no doubt conceived during his brilliant DJing career, it's hard to keep in mind how startling and triumphant he once was. This man was an r&b ruler in the '50s because he could do it all--not just electrify Robert and Lonnie Johnson simultaneously, but croon and growl and split the air while writing standards almost as fast as Willie Dixon. Anyone who thinks he's too smooth can kiss his ass. A

Eric Clapton: 24 Nights [Reprise, 1991]

Eric Clapton: Unplugged [Reprise, 1992]
Laid-back doesn't equal dead--461 Ocean Boulevard is laid-back. What's wrong with this stopgap is it means to be inoffensive. Relegating Clapton-the-electric-guitarist to the mists of memory and capturing Clapton-the-pop-vocalist in a staid mood only an adrenaline junkie could confuse with the sly somnolence of "I Shot the Sherriff" and "Willie and the Hand Jive," it turns "Layla" into a whispery greeting card. No wonder the pop star he most closely resembles on television is James Galway. B-

B.B. King: Blues Summit [MCA, 1993]
The artist's flair for the duet is such that the most arresting solo here comes when B.B. is driven to new heights by his favorite collaborator, the B.B. King Orchestra. And because he doesn't want to give away his come-ons yet (or else doesn't have any), he sounds more comfortable with the men than the gals. But that's not to say the likes of Robert Cray and Etta James and John Lee Hooker aren't extra added attractions. Or that they don't inspire him to focus--which is really all he needs. B+

Eric Clapton: From the Cradle [Reprise, 1994]
cf. Son Seals, Otis Rush: plays better, sings worse ("Motherless Child," "Blues Before Sunrise") **

B.B. King: Deuces Wild [MCA, 1997]
Best cameos of an albumful: Tracy Chapman, Mick Jagger, Eric Clapton ("The Thrill Is Gone," "Paying the Cost To Be the Boss," "Rock Me Baby"). ***

Eric Clapton: Pilgrim [Reprise, 1998]
Actually, Lord, there's been a misunderstanding. Remember when we said it was OK for You to sing? What we meant was . . . well, first we just wanted You to get rid of Jack Bruce. Then it was more like, Don't be shy, Sonny Boy Williamson didn't have that much range either. But never, never, never did we say, You have the right if George Benson does. Or, You could be the next Phil Collins. Or, Guitars are for sound effects anyway. Really, God. That wasn't the idea at all. C+

B.B. King: Live in Japan [MCA, 1999]
Cut 1971--fresher than London, not quite as ripe as Cook County Jail ("Japanese Boogie," "Niji Baby"). ***

Riding With the King [Reprise, 2000]
Tireless teacher spurs genius student ("Riding With the King," "Hold On I'm Coming"). ***

Eric Clapton: Me and Mr. Johnson [Reprise, 2004]

B.B. King & Friends: 80 [Geffen, 2006]
Eighty is the new 64, and I don't mean Roger Daltrey's 64 ("All Over Again," "Never Make Your Move Too Soon"). *

B.B. King: One Kind Favor [Geffen, 2008]
Other mainstays of 82-year-old's meticulous retro combo: steadfast Jim Keltner and mercurial Dr. John ("The World Gone Wrong," "See That My Grave Is Kept Clean"). *

B.B. King: The Jungle [Ace, 2009]
Although five of its dozen selections had attained the lower reaches of the R&B chart twixt '65 and '67, few noticed this slapdash piece of product when the Bihari brothers' L.A.-based indie put it on the market. But as rereleased by Ace in 2009, it exemplifies how great artists' lesser work comes to feel more precious when they're gone. Otherwise unavailable highlights include the poverty-fighting title track, a short and sweet "Ain't Nobody's Business," and a "Beautician's Blues" that sics said blues on said beautician. A guy his ma called Riley plays guitar on every track.

Wynton Marsalis & Eric Clapton: Wynton Marsalis & Eric Clapton Play the Blues: Live From Jazz at Lincoln Center [Reprise Jazz, 2011]
This isn't just figureheads rising to the occasion or getting back to where they once belonged, although both models pertain--especially for Marsalis, who enjoys the blues enough that his monster chops masticate them lip-smackingly rather than chewing them up and spitting them out. What's decisive, however, is a conception in which the members of a blues horn section interact polyphonically rather than uniting in the soulful Texas manner while blues polymath Clapton dictates as well as plays and sings a repertoire that includes Memphis Minnie and Howlin Wolf as well as W.C. Handy and Johnny Dodd. The juxtaposition may discomfit at first--we're not used to blues so jaunty and effervescent. But let it and it'll lift you right up. A-