Clapton_ The Autobiography - Eric Clapton [104]
While we were in Canada, playing at Maple Leaf Gardens in Toronto, I hit a rock bottom, one of a series that would eventually lead me back to Hazelden. I had been drinking very heavily throughout the tour and had suffered one or two alcoholic breakdowns, like mini-seizures. On this particular occasion I had bought a couple of six-packs of beer, which I drank very quickly, and then I just hit a wall of desperation. It was like a moment of clarity when I saw the absolute squalidness of my life at that moment. I began to write a song called “Holy Mother,” in which I asked for help from a divine source, a female that I couldn’t even begin to identify. I still love that song, because I recognize that it came from deep in my heart as a sincere cry for help.
A number of shocks awaited me on my return to England after the Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking tour. The first was that Warner Bros. had sent back the Montserrat tapes, saying the songs weren’t strong enough. There weren’t enough potential hit singles among them, and we could either rerecord the album, removing some of the songs and adding new ones, or find another record company. I was incredibly upset, as this was the first time I had ever been rejected as a musician. At one point I even equated it with being sober, because one of the first things that had happened to me when I got back from Hazelden was that I got stopped by the police in my car and was Breathalyzed, something that had never happened to me while I was drinking. Suddenly, getting a rejection from my record company was just another reflection of all the nastiness one had to face when sober.
After my anger subsided, I had the presence of mind to sit down quietly and think what might be the proper action to take. I was partly motivated in this by having heard that Warner had recently dropped Van Morrison, and it occurred to me that if they could drop him, then they could certainly let go of me, and then where would I go? I decided to talk to Roger about it, who had often made sensible decisions in difficult situations, and we both agreed that we should find out what the record company thought hit single material was. They sent me three songs written by a Texas songwriter they represented named Jerry Lynn Williams—“Forever Man,” “Something’s Happening,” and “See What Love Can Do”—and they were good. I loved the way he sang, and I sent back a message to say I would do it, on the condition that they produced the songs and provided the musicians. I think it was, professionally, the first time I’d ever had to back down.
I was pretty scared when I went out to LA, being not quite sure what I was letting myself in for, but as soon as I met him, I got on with Jerry Williams like a house on fire. He was an incredible, larger-than-life character who looked like Jack Nicholson and sang like Stevie Wonder. The producers were Ted Templeman and Lenny Waronker, and they brought in what they called the “A team” of Jeff Porcaro on drums, Steve Luthaker on guitar, and Michael Omartian and Greg Phillinganes on synthesizers, all studio musicians who had been used on hit after hit.
We recorded these songs, and though I thought the material was pretty good, in the end I believe the original album was better because it was truer to what we had been trying to do. What I really got out of it was the sheer enjoyment of hanging out with Jerry Williams, though he was hardly the best influence I could have had at the time. He was staying