ON A PILGRIMAGE

WITH

ERIC CLAPTON

Richard Blaine
Octobre 1999

Many thanks to Thomas Missfelt for the German to Portuguese translation, to Marissom Ricardo Roso and Andre Salles for the Portuguese to English. My bit was to make that English, uhm.. more English, colloquial and natural sounding. I hope we have all succeeded. Owing to the length of the piece we have opted to post it on *Killer's* web page. (WOLF)

Penthouse: On June 25 it became known to the world that you auctioned 100 of your guitars which earned something close to 9.6 million German marks. Aren't you rich enough already?

Eric Clapton: Yes, I am, but I have, even after 30 years in this business, extremely expensive whims. And they need to be financed.

P: But you aren't speaking about your Ferraris, race horses or your houses?

EC: I have tried, five years ago now, to support/build/maintain a clinic drug rehabilitation clinic, the Crossroads Center in Antigua.

P: Antigua?

EC: It's been my second home for more than 15 years. Originally I settled there as a fugitive from taxes, but in the mean time I fell in love with this small island.

P: And so you placed 100 guitars under the hammer, in order for you to have a rehabilitation clinic close to your second home? Wouldn't it be cheaper, to pay the taxes in your country where the medical infrastructure is more established?

EC: The clinic, obviously, is not for me. I already put my addiction to drugs and my problems with alcohol behind me a long time ago. But when you live in a place, where men, women and children get lost, so nobody shows them how to manage day-to-day without chemicals, this makes a former-junkie like me, think.

P: Is the clinic for the residents?

EC: Not just. Two thirds of the beds are for foreign patients, that have enough money, to pay for the therapy, or that are financed by a health plan. Those beds are not exactly cheap, that income pays for treatment at Crossroads, both inpatient and out patient for poor residents.

P: And does it work?

EC: It's enough to keep the work that is already in progress going, but it is not enough to invest in new construction and in medical equipment. Because of this I sold my guitars.

P: Were you surprised, that so much money was raised?

EC: I was shocked. Christie's Auction House had told me, that I could be happy with each dollar above a million dollars. I was prepared to be happy with 700,000 dollars. The auctioneer, Cathy Elkies, broke all the records in three hours of work.

P: Certainly. The last guitar, that went to the auction table, was a Stratocaster, the one affectionately called "Brownie" by fans around the world.

EC: "Brownie " was an old '56 Stratocaster, that I bought eleven years later, because I was not quite satisfied with the weak/bad sound of my Gibson SG.

P: In that time you still played with Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker - The legendary Cream.

EC: I played this guitar, on the tracks of Layla, among another things. At that time, I never imagined that it would be worth almost half million dollars. With this, Brownie is the most expensive instrument in the world.

P: In September you will be touring Japan. Won't you miss your guitars?

EC: On tour, for a long time now, I play guitars that can be substituted without other problems. The Fender Custom Shop made a Stratocaster exactly according to my instructions. The neck corresponds to the neck of my cherished guitar. The machine heads/tuning heads are supplied by a small firm in Orange County. And these guitars only exist in my favorite colors. I always have enough of them to fulfill my needs. And when one breaks, the boys in Corona immediately order me a substitute.

P: On New Year's Eve you will give a concert of the millennium in England, where no alcohol will be served.

EC: Actually, it should be only a small concert, where I will be on the stage with some friends. I only wanted to show, in practice, that is possible to celebrate the arrival of the millennium without chemical stimulants. The promoters make a big deal out of this.

P: In Germany there are travel agencies, that offer trip packages for 4.000 marks. (*just under $2000 US)

EC: 4.000 marks, to see me. There are some days that I have to smile a little because of my market value. I would never have dreamt that.

P: Your last studio Record is named Pilgrim. At this time, did you reach your destiny, or does your pilgrimage continue these years?

EC: Well, I am still not dead, therefore the trip continues. In order to live /exist it is important for some people to be successful commercially. For others, the meaning of life is to maintain a family.

P: Are these objectives that you reached in your life.

EC: As in every pilgrimage, my reached objectives become milestones on a road, that still hasn't ended. Today I try to do everything that I do in the course of the year with some meaning. This is not very easy, but sometimes I manage.

P: Because of that, you wrote so much music on this record yourself?

EC: I think so, yes. In the past, I liked to play other artists' songs, because then I needed to deal with my spiritual life. In the past, I liked to let my guitar to speak for me. I literally hid behind my instrument. Today I don't want to do this anymore. I'd like, nowadays, also as composer, to run all the risks, I ran 30 years ago, as guitarist. I think all artists should be exposed in and through their work. Only then, is our work definitively/definitely done.

P: If I am right, you seem here to be a little depressed.

EC: Pilgrim should be the saddest album of all time. And this, some people didn't totally understand, but for me it was the process of the return of my own musical creativity. I think that, pain, fear and grief form a crucible in which man's true value is exposed. You cannot measure my value by my guitar solos, my gold records or my Armani suits. When I look back to my previous life, then it'' clear to me that I didn't achieve anything that really makes a difference in a man's self-esteem/own value.

P: Until...

EC: I find, that we can recognize a man's value, when we see how he deals with difficult situations. Formerly/in the past, I hid my fear of the truth, when I played another people's music. A lot of times I passed days - weeks without leaving the house. I drank, no, I filled my face... there were times in my life, that I had no structure, times that I was not worth anything.

P: Is that different today?

EC: I have succeeded as man, in dealing with situations that before/previously would have killed me. I bore so much pain and grief, that my death would almost be a solution. But I still live. I had to learn, to place the pain and the grief somewhere in my soul in way to continue living. I survived, as a human, as a man, as an artist. That process you can call illumination, if you want. Other people have other interpretations for the same truth. But that knowledge, that illumination guides me now, I'd like to talk about this.

P: In the seventies a rumor ran, that your " manager " Robert Stigwood would have addicted you in heroine, to control you better.

EC: Total nonsense. In the first place, you cannot control junkies and in the second, I didn't need a mentor or " manager " for my last drug excesses. I got into that shit myself.

P: On November 26, 1968 you gave with Cream the farewell concert, in Royal Albert Hall. Jimi Hendrix said that this day was the saddest day of Rock'n Roll history.

EC: He was wrong. For me the saddest day in Rock and Roll history is the day in that Jimi died, or Janis, or John, or Stevie, or Keith or hell... too many of us have died too early/soon. There are many sad days. Perhaps too many.

P: During Cream you were with the model Charlotte Martin.

EC: We met each other three years before (1965) at the Speakeasy Club, that had just opened. A little while after, Charly moved into my apartment. Our relationship lasted three years. When Cream ended, I was alone as a musician and as a man.

P: So that you frequently visited your friend George Harrison.

EC: George was the co-author of the best Cream music/song of all time (Badge) and besides he played guitar on the record under the pseudonym of L'Angelo Misterioso. It was then that I bought a country house in Esher/Surrey, that was within a few miles of George's house.

P: Then later you fell in love with Pattie Harrison, your friend's wife.

EC: Completely and "unrestrictely"/publicly. We met each other after a Cream concert at the Saville Theatre in London. Brian Epstein (then manager of the Beatles) had a party at his house in Belgravia that night. Then we left and we went to the movies, and in some way something developed between us.

P: Between you?

EC: Perhaps I imagined it at the time. However, at that time I was sure that Pattie also felt something for me. But this was only realized/consummated/accomplished later. I always had difficulty expressing my true feelings directly for Pattie.

P: I can hardly believe that. You wrote the most beautiful love songs of love of all time for this woman.

C: But they are songs. To put my feelings in words and melodies is essentially easier for me than simply to tell them.

P: And, because you could not have Pattie, you took up with her sister, Paula, 18 years old.

EC: It was not a good idea, but at that moment I couldn't think of anything better. Pattie and Paula's mother were totally irritated, because his little and innocent daughter was with that pop star. But they had to bite that bitter apple.

P: When did you declare your love for the first time for Pattie?

EC: Over and over again. But I hid what had to express behind a melancholic humor. It took a long time, until my feeling were so clear that Pattie definitively understood what I felt. After my short romance with Paula was over/finished, I finally called Pattie and I asked, if she knew a nice girl, that could turn my head/interest me. Pattie thought a little and then she appeared in the EMI studio with a friend of hers.

P: It was not exactly what you had in mind

EC: Not at all. I had a good time at her expense, I was rude to her and I ignored her.

P: And Pattie?

EC: It was very embarrassing for her. After an hour the girl left, and when I called her the following day, Patti practically "put me down." Then I finally told the truth. I told her that I was not interested in any friend. I wanted Pattie, and nobody else.

P: And did she accept that?

EC: While I professed my love by telephone, I felt that Pattie got more and more quiet. I think she was giving in, but she didn't want to admit it. And while I spoke, Pattie built a wall around herself, that wasn't there before. I had already prepared myself for (failure/distaster.) At the end of the sixties, it simply was not possible to steal one of The Beatles' wives.

P: Not even for Eric Clapton?

EC : As I said, I knew exactly, that I never was God. It's irrelevant what a fan writes on a wall. And for me Pattie was clearly and notoriously unattainable/inaccessible. I had found the definitive excuse for my addiction that was beginning.

P: Are you saying that you yourself are guilty/responsible for your drug addiction ?

EC: That, in the sixties we lived less healthy in every way, almost everyone can imagine. During my time with the Yardbirds I, naturally, like all of us, I got involved up with the " groupies ."

P: What type of "groupies" did you have then?

EC: This will seem extremely sexist, but I remember very well, that all the girls, that were with us in the beginning, had a big ass. I wonder why I remember that exactly. I don't really know why. But all the girls had an extremely large ass.

P: Did you also stay with Devon?

EC: Devon was totally different. She was a black beauty that Quincy Jones had discovered in Las Vegas. Later she was with Jimi Hendrix. The woman was a goddess.

P: Did Devon also take/involve you to/with heroin?

EC: No, although she definitively was a drug addict. Nothing worthwhile had come of our relationship because I was always on tour. And when I stayed at home, I was no longer capable of having/establishing personal relationships with anyone.

P: What can you say about Alice Ormsby-Gore?

EC: She was Lord Harlech's daughter, he was the British ambassador to Washington. I met Alice by accident, when she accompanied David Mlinaric, my interior decorator.

P: Alice was extremely young at that time.

C: She was 16, I was 23. We flirtted for about one year, without anything really happened between us. I had other relationships in this one year, but in some way, I wasn't able to forget Alice. After one year Alice moved into my house. Alice was really very pretty and she had an extremely good sense of humor. I had my life under a certain amount of control. Then I lived my personal apocalypse.

P: What happened then?

EC: It was one afternoon in the autumn of 1970. I was in a musical instrument store, that had, by English standards, good guitars for sale. On the wall there was a Stratocaster for left-handers, those were extremely rare in England. I, immediately, without thinking, bought it for my friend Jimi Hendrix. The same night, I went to the Lyceum, to see Sly Stone. I had taken the guitar because I knew that Jimi would not miss this show. But he didn't come. His place was empty.

P: At that moment, you didn't still know what had happened?

EC: I wanted, for Jimi to have a really decent guitar at last. He was so fucking talented. So fucking talented. We played so well together in Greenwich Village (in New York) and suddenly he was gone. He could never play the Stratocaster that I had bought for him.

P: And did you seek comfort in drugs?

EC: No, but I shut myself in/isolated myself in my house with Alice. I simply didn't want to see anyone anymore. And there we began to pass the time with drugs.

P: Why heroin?

EC: Because it leaves you invisible. As soon as you close your eyes, the world around you stops existing. And as you cannot see anybody, naturally they cannot also see you. At least it is what you believe. Heroin is the definitive/ultimate escape of/from this world.

P: Later, you changed the heroin for heavy drinking.

EC: At that time, I was of the opinion, that if you wanted to play true and authentic Blues, you had to spit constantly in the face of the death. Not just once, but over and over again.

P: And when the death spit back?

EC: Then you would meet with Jimi Hendrix for a jam on the other side. What do I know? But a true artist, a painter, a musician or a writer cannot be afraid of death. It gives force and continuity to his work.

P: At that time you went around to the night clubs a lot with Pete Townsend.

EC: As many alcoholics before and after us, we didn't see the forest through the trees. I was absolutely sure that the heroin was my largest problem. And that finally I had finally realized this.

P: But?

EC: For me it was not clear/I didn't understand, that my personality in itself was the problem. I am an addictive person. Doesn't matter if it's alcohol, cocaine or toothpaste. I solved my "preference" problems in the chemical form.

P: You always mention God in your songs.

EC: I am a Christian without a church. A man of God that stands back from organized religions. I know that a God exists and that He can represent something in our lives.

P: How did you, as a believing Christian respond to your son's death?

EC: It was shit. I screamed at God, and indeed I cursed/damned Him. I didn't understand how/why a kindly God could allow an accident like this. My son hadn't done anything to God. He was innocent. I don't know, if my compulsive crying can still be considered a prayer. I am only happy if /when I don't/ am not going to church regularly.

P: Why?

EC: I don't know that it's very intellegent/clever/smart to scream at God in His house. I think they would have thrown me out. Perhaps even with reason.

P: Did God hear your prayers?

EC: If He did, then I didn't hear HIM immediately. It took a certain amount of time, until I calmed down to the point of realizing that God was not the responsible person for my son's death.

P: Who then? The devil was not?

EC: I was. I didn't provide my son with the home that he deserved. Because I had to obey/follow my dick, my relationship with Lori came undone. Because I was always on tour, I didn't notice this right away. Because I became exactly the man that I cursed all during my childhood, my son died. I am accused.

P: Aren't you being very hard on yourself?

EC: Am I? You asked me while ago about God. The fact is, that the Bible gives clear warning about sex before and out of the marriage. And we followed our own road, because for us our immediate personal satisfaction is more important than the eventual future consequences. Because of that our children grow in up broken or divided families. It's that adolescents experiment with drugs and violence. That children fall out of windows once in a while. B ecause our immediate satisfaction is more important than the moral base with which our society, our children and our future would have a chance of survival. And when children shoot one another in school, when pre-adolescents die from an overdose, when small children fall out of the window, we ask God why a kindly God lets this happen? We are all of us hypocrites.

P: You also?

EC: Me also, because I didn't still learn anything from my mistakes. Conor died seven years ago. And I still live as in that time. I am still not a good person.

P: Are you speaking of your relationships to women?

EC: Pretty/beautiful women are like a good restaurant. While you are enjoying the meal, you are happy. And when the bill comes, you pay, and then you are happy and satisfied. It doesn't matter if the food was good, the following day you are hungry again. In Proverbs, Solomon writes, I believe, that all his wealth, all his wives, all his property and also all his wisdom, they are just trivialities of no worth/value. I am one of the richest musicians of our generation. Does it make me happy? I had some of the most beautiful women of the world in my bed. Does it help/make me be a better man? When I was young, my fans wrote: " Clapton is God " on the walls of London. Do my guitar solos have power to erase my son's death? Then, why all those/the rumors/gossip about me being a star? Who, does this really interest? /Who really cares?