Clapton_ The Autobiography - Eric Clapton [130]
The situation with Roger and me had been getting increasingly strained and tenuous over the last two years, and there was very little we did agree on anymore. I was becoming more and more interested in the overall direction of my career and had almost entirely stopped asking Roger for advice. Also, I no longer felt the need to have hits or be overly concerned with what was expected of me, either from my audience or the record company. It was borderline arrogance, but I needed to spread my wings. Artistic integrity became more and more important to me, and ina distorted way it all started to resemble my last days with Giorgio Gomelski and the Yardbirds.
Then one day I received a letter from Roger in which he told me that I might not have been aware of it, but when he was working on my behalf, I sold this number of records and made that amount of money. He then proceeded to list all the areas in which he was in disagreement with me regarding the way I was now running things for myself, and the mistakes I was making, and they were numerous, everything from the way I made my albums to audience seating at concerts. I found it really insulting and offensive. It was time for a showdown.
I had been collecting Tibetan dzi beads for quite a while. These rare stones are found in the earth in Tibet and are thought by local people to have been dropped from heaven. They are supposed to be pre-Buddha and have great power and meaning. I put together a string of them and, wearing them round my neck tucked underneath my T-shirt, I went to Roger’s office to dissolve our partnership. Since he had always claimed that contracts meant nothing, I didn’t expect there to be any serious legal ramifications, but I was totally unprepared for how badly he took it. He was visibly shaken, even though I had taken great care not to lay criticism at his door. I simply thanked him for all he had done for me over the years and told him I had learned everything I could from him, but now it was time to fly the nest. He was quiet for a minute and then said, “Well, I thought there was going to be something like this, but I thought you were just going to ask me to stay out of your private life, and would still want me to handle the money and the business.”
He then offered to find me a new manager. “If I need a new manager, Roger,” I told him, “I’m quite capable of finding one myself.” Looking faintly amused, he wished me luck, though I don’t think he meant it. I remember coming out of the office and walking back toward Chelsea, feeling three feet off the ground. Roger’s contract officially ended three months later, although my financial obligation is still tailing off today. I haven’t set eyes on Roger since that day, and that saddens me. The humor and fun we shared were phenomenal, even after I’d stopped drinking. We had an incredible journey together, and he had successfully restarted a career that was as good as over. Maybe we will meet again and laugh at our memories one day. I hope so. They were precious times.
Of course, I had made contingency plans for this day, and the first was to let my attorney, Michael Eaton, know what I was about to do and tell him what I had prepared for the aftermath. In truth I was abysmally unprepared for the reality of breaking up with Roger, and I knew that the only way to play it out was to follow my heart. This I did by asking two of the closest people who already worked for me, Vivien and Graham Court, to come in closer and help reestablish my business situation. Graham came into my life on the recommendation of my production manager, Mick Double.
At the time, I was being stalked by yet another crazy woman, who was convinced that I had stolen all my songs from her, through the ether. It sounds mildly funny, but she was deadly serious, following me around the world, once even showing up at the gates of Hurtwood. The final straw came