Clapton_ The Autobiography - Eric Clapton [57]
We found out that we were going on between Chuck Berry and Little Richard, and John was terrified, overwhelmed I think by the fact that he was going onstage with all his heroes. Backstage, John and I did so much blow that he threw up, and I had to lie down for a while. Luckily we had Terry Doran with us, who was John’s personal assistant, and he made sure that John was fit to go onstage.
The Plastic Ono Band went on at midnight and played a tough hard-core set of standard rock ’n’ roll numbers. Considering that we had never played together before we rehearsed on the plane, I thought we sounded good. At the end John told us to take off our guitars, turn them up, and lean them against the amplifiers. He did the same thing, and the amps and the guitars just started howling in feedback while we either stood to one side or got off the stage. Yoko started to sing along with this, a song she had written called “Oh John.” It sounded pretty strange to me, more like howling than singing, but that was her thing. John thought it was all pretty funny, and that’s what closed our set. Then we all piled into four cars that had been organized by Cyrus Eaton’s son and drove back to spend what was left of the night at the sprawling estate. The following afternoon we flew back to England. My payment for the gig consisted of a few of John’s drawings, which over time I have unfortunately lost.
However much I was enjoying guesting with my friends, I couldn’t wait to get back together with Delaney, who had asked me to tour with him and Bonnie under the name Delaney & Bonnie and Friends. I set up a rehearsal room on the top floor at Hurtwood, and the band came to live there for a few weeks prior to touring, first in Germany, and then England and Scandinavia, for both legs of which we were joined by George Harrison, who was keen to record Delaney & Bonnie for the Beatles’ Apple label.
It was an incredibly happy experience for me to play with a group of musicians who were out there for the sheer joy of playing rather than to make money, which they were hard-pressed to do anyway because there were so many of them in the group. A great feeling of love surrounded us onstage when we played. Unfortunately, the occasional ugly scene was triggered by the fact that some audiences expected more from me. They had seen the tour posters announcing “Delaney & Bonnie and Friends, featuring Eric Clapton” and wanted to hear more than the couple of songs I would sing during the show. When I refused to respond to their demands, because I saw myself as no more than a sideman in the band, they often became a little feisty and would start heckling, which could be quite nasty.
None of this happened on the American leg of the tour, where the Bramletts had a strong following. When we’d finished, I went to stay with them at their home in Sherman Oaks, California, which they shared with Delaney’s mother. It was a tiny house, so small they almost had to sleep in the same bed. All around there lived a community of great musicians, all from the South, and Delaney and Bonnie were right there at the center of it.
It was unbelievable to me that I went from a fairly small though creative framework back in England with Blind Faith to suddenly living in LA and hanging out with all these incredible musicians. Delaney turned me on to so many things. He played me the music of J. J. Cale, which was to become an enormous influence. I met and played with King Curtis on his single “Teasin’,” an experience I wanted to go on forever. I hung out with the Crickets and Stephen Stills, and Leon Russell, who had his own recording studio in North Hollywood.
Delaney persuaded me to cut a solo album with him as producer, and we started work on it at Amigo Studio. I had written only one song, “Let It Rain,” but Delaney had a few, or we would be on the way to the studio in the morning and Delaney would say, “What about a song about a bottle