Clapton_ The Autobiography - Eric Clapton [59]
I’d had a call from Carl Radle telling me that Delaney & Bonnie and Friends had disbanded, and asking me whether I might be interested in doing something with him, Bobby Whitlock, and Jim Gordon. Having nothing else on, I’d said yes, and they flew over to England and came to live at Hurtwood. It was the beginning of one of the most extraordinary periods of my life, the memory of which is dominated by one thing—incredible music. It began with me just talking to these guys about music and getting to know them, and then we just played and played and played.
I was in absolute awe of these people, and yet they made me feel that I was on their level. My musicianship fit with their musicianship. We were kindred spirits, made in the same mold. To this day I would say that the bass player Carl Radle and the drummer Jimmy Gordon are the most powerful rhythm section I have ever played with. They were absolutely brilliant. When people say that Jim Gordon is the greatest rock ’n’ roll drummer who ever lived, I think it’s true, beyond anybody.
All we did was jam and jam and jam and night would become day and day would become night, and it just felt good to me to stay that way. I had never felt so musically free before. We kept ourselves going with fryups and a cocktail of drink and drugs, mostly cocaine and Mandrax. “Mandies” were quite strong sleeping pills, but instead of letting them put us to sleep, we would ride the effect, staying awake by snorting some coke or drinking some brandy or vodka, and this would create a unique kind of high. This became the chemistry of our lives, mixing all these things together. God knows how our bodies stood it.
I had no game plan at this time. We were just enjoying playing, getting stoned, and writing songs. George Harrison was a frequent caller. He had recently moved from Kinfauns, his bungalow in Esher, to a sprawling mansion in Henley called Friar Park, and his visits gave me plenty of opportunity to flirt with Pattie behind Paula’s back. One night I called up Pattie and told her “the truth,” that it was not Paula I was interested in, or any other girl she might see me with, but that she was the one I really wanted. In spite of her protests that she was married to George and that what I was suggesting was impossible, she agreed to my coming over to talk to her. I drove over there, and we talked about it over a bottle of red wine and ended up kissing, and I sensed for the first time that there was some kind of hope for me. I knew then what I had suspected for some time, that all was not well in her marriage.
I was so buoyed up by what had happened with Pattie, as well as being a bit drunk, that on the way home, driving a little Ferrari Dino that I’d just bought, I took a corner in Clandon much too fast and hit a fence, and the car flipped over onto its roof. I didn’t pass out, but I found myself just hanging there upside down. Somehow I undid the seat belt and got out, and, realizing that I didn’t even have a driver’s license, made the decision to run home and make out that someone had stolen the car. So I set off running, but soon realized that I was heading in the wrong direction, back toward London.
I then thought that I would hide somewhere, so I opened a gate in the hedge, walked into what turned out to be a graveyard, and sat down on a grave. After a while I decided to go back and face the music. I walked back to where the car was, and all these people wearing dressing gowns were wandering around with torches, looking