Blind Faith (1969)

The cover of Blind Faith's only album was more startling than the music on the actual record.  Blind Faith was the supergroup formed in 1969 by Cream guitarist Eric Clapton and Traffic keyboardist and singer Steve Winwood when their respective bands broke up, and the rhythm section came to be comprised of bassist Ric Grech of Family (which had not broken up, but whose split was rumored when Grech left to join Blind Faith; the breakup rumors surprised Family leaders Roger Chapman and Charlie Whitney, whom Grech somehow forgot to give adequate notice regarding his departure) and Clapton's old Cream bandmate Ginger Baker on drums.  With all this firepower at their disposal, Blind Faith should have replaced the Beatles as the world's greatest band going into the seventies.  But they fell somewhat short.

Blind Faith's debut LP is a competent album that's a showcase for its members' various abilities.  The band shows earnestness on "Had To Cry Today" and some genuine soul in "Presence of the Lord," one of Clapton's best compositions (which also features some of his best guitar work), and the acoustic ballad "Can't Find My Way Home" is engaging.  But they sound lackadaisical on "Sea Of Joy" and almost completely disinterested on the fifteen-minute closing cut "Do What You Like," a Baker song that dissolves into a jam, with Baker following the advice of the song's title with a drum solo before the band returns and falls apart.  Winwood's voice maintains throughout the grit of his work with the Spencer Davis Group, but he sounds unsure of himself half the time.  Clapton mostly goes through the motions, and poor Ric Grech finds it impossible to distinguish himself on bass and make himself heard above Baker.  (Grech shone as a bassist when playing opposite a drummer who cooperated with him and respected his pacing, as when he played opposite Rob Townsend in Family.)

Ultimately, what we have here is a band that tries to substitute virtuosity for chemistry.  Blind Faith had not been allowed to develop an identity; their record company was so eager for them to record and tour that they were unable to rehearse long enough to gel.  Unable to find any meaning or reason for the melding of their formidable talents, Blind Faith quickly folded, and Clapton found the groove he was looking for by jamming with Delaney and Bonnie.  While this record is not a great album, though, it's not a bad one either.  When you listen to it as a piece of "classic rock" in the twenty-first century and put aside all of the hype that surrounded its release in 1969, it holds up rather well, thanks to the thoughtful musicianship and its blues base.  Their cover of Buddy Holly's "Well All Right" is a hint of what could have been a distinctive Blind Faith sound had they been given the chance to develop one.  But it's equally obvious that the best work of these four superb musicians is found elsewhere.  Great playing cannot compensate for lack of purpose.  And getting four of the biggest names in British rock into a recording studio just to see how well they play together (or how much money they can make their managers) hardly counts as a purpose.