26 Proteus 2 months ago Clapton would agree with you, Jimmy. His humility about his own talents is beyond honorable and endearing - it’s practically crippling. As far back as the late 70s, I recall a print interview where he expressed how little he enjoyed hearing himself. That he’d listen to himself and hear some Freddie King, then some Albert King, then some other blues master in his playing. He said he liked those parts; it was all the stuff between that sounded like him that he didn’t like. Whoever scrawled “Clapton is God” on subway walls, it sure wasn’t EC himself. Of course our reactions to artists is always conditioned by who and where we were in our lives when we first heard their music. I was 13 when “Sunshine” and then Disraeli Gears hit me, and to say it made a deep impression is understatement. “White Room” and all of Wheels, even more so. I simply had never heard anything like it before. I had no idea it had evolved from a literal collision of blues, jazz, psychedelia - and the fertile and eclectic imagination of Jack Bruce. Much as I respect (and kinda sympathize) with Clapton’s aching toward blues purity, it’s Cream’s ferocious pastiche that creams me.