Eric Clapton – Self-titled Review

Most will know the seal of quality Eric Clapton brings to blues rock before heading into his self-titled debut. A good thing to know before heading into this, too, since much of the instrumental work that impresses here is thanks to session musicians. It isn’t because Clapton has somehow lost the ability to play well between his work with The Bluesbreakers, but because this pitch of Clapton as a solo artist has a focus on his vocal stylings and abilities as a frontman, rather than a musician. His instrumental work is always his biggest draw, and to strip that much away from him on Eric Clapton is a puzzling decision. But it happens with the likes of opening track Slunky, an instrumental jam which doesn’t sound as though it needs Clapton present. Instead, saxophonist Bob Keys and the rhythm guitar brilliance of Delaney Bramlett are on hand. Clapton would write and perform these songs well enough, but it’s the instrumentalists around him that matter most.  

That’s a problem Clapton had contended with in The Bluesbreakers, Cream, and Derek and the Dominos. He had not yet found the standing necessary to leap off as an instrumental and vocal force of his own. He would find that on the album to follow this, 461 Ocean Boulevard, but his self-titled debut is somewhat unconvincing. Relatively unconvincing work on Bad Boy is, most will have guessed, because of the relationship between the title track and how Clapton refers to himself. A bit embarrassing, a tad comical, but the wordage of the time is what Clapton was using. He doesn’t care to branch off further from that or feel for a new sound. He becomes a tertiary requirement to an album with his name as the title. A tad disappointing to see that but it does mean Eric Clapton is more of an easy-going blues rock experience with many voices at the core of it.  

Impressive performances across the album, those spirited instrumental stylings which would usually encapsulate the strength of Clapton and company, just falls short. A song like After Midnight is a space for Clapton to tool around with an instrumental quality listeners will already know he has, be it at the time of its release or decades later when the greatest hits are a given. Don’t doubt the importance of the pedestal Clapton puts blues rock on, though. Blues Power may sound a tad cheesy but his love for the genre and consistencies within that are a phenomenally strong core of his discography. Relatively solid blues rock is what Clapton and the in-house musicians offer here, but not much more than that. Plodding but never quite predictable.  

Catchy is the word for it, then. Bottle of Red Wine has some nice moments to it but, all the same, never quite lands well enough to return to. None of the songs featured on this debut do. A pretty underwhelming listen, even for those who are dedicated fans of Clapton. He would build this style so much better on the albums to follow, and, crucially, doesn’t improve on anything he had already done at this point. Clapton would get more from his brief stint in Derek and the Dominos just a few months after recording this self-titled debut than he would with anything else. There’s a lightness to Eric Clapton that you can hear on I’ve Told You for the Last Time that just doesn’t quite match up with the material he’s best known for. He had written some heavy-hitting pieces by this point, and a light kick around with blues rock is, while enjoyable, hardly the most powerful work he could offer.