When God Gets the Blues

Exfanding Your Horizons welcomes guest posts, and today's is a doozy. It's called "When God Gets the Blues," and it's a fantastic in-depth look at the music of the legendary Eric Clapton and the stories behind it. Whether you're a diehard Clapton fanatic or just interested in music and/or excellent blogging, zharth's post is well worth the read.

Oh, and if you need a refresher on what Eric Clapton sounds like--and I hope you don't--watch this (jump ahead to about 0:40 if you're impatient):



So as not to steal anyone's thunder, we're only reprinting a small excerpt of the post here; you can read the rest at zharth's blog, A NEET Life. The full post is safe for work, but particularly sensitive or easily offended folks would do well to exercise a little caution when poking around the rest of the blog. Just sayin'.

Now, onto the post:


Birthing a God

If ever there was a guitarist that needs no introduction, a guitarist whose name implies legend, a guitarist whose licks are recognizable to the uninitiated - it would be Jimi Hendrix, who turned the guitar world (literally, during some of his solos) upside-down. But do you know who even the revolutionary Jimi Hendrix idolized? His contemporary and leader of the hit supergroup Cream, Eric Clapton - who, even among the slew of guitar gods arising out of the heady generation of the 60's, earned the illustrious, and potentially sacrilegious, title of "God" among his most obsessed fans (usurping his more modest nickname of "Slowhand"). Now, I've listened to enough guitarists with amazing talent to realize that there's just no point in arguing who's the best (because clearly, nobody will ever beat Roy Buchanan), but, unlike many of his contemporaries, Eric Clapton possesses a good supply of talent, fame, *and* longevity, for which he deserves recognition. And he's had his share of misery, too. You see, even God gets the blues from time to time.

[Read the rest of "When God Gets The Blues" at A NEET Life]