THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, September 17, 1994 TAG: 9409170048
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E2 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Music Review
LENGTH: Medium: 93 lines
Eric Clapton, ``From the Cradle'' (Reprise/Duck). After the bazillion-selling success of his 1992 ``Unplugged'' session, it was clear that Eric Clapton could have done anything for a followup. His decision to record stripped-down versions of blues classics that inspired him in his early years was an appropriate one. After all, at the end of ``Unplugged,'' Clapton was belting ``Rollin' and Tumblin'.''
Still, it's a surprise to hear this often diffident singer growling his way through the opening ``Blues Before Sunrise,'' hurling back demons as if making a last stand in the Delta itself. The overamped guitar and lean, forceful groove set a fine tone for the 15 cuts that follow.
But while ``Cradle'' smokes most of the current competition on such labels as Alligator and Bullseye Blues, it often fails to add much resonance to songs that rank among the most vital ever recorded. A take on Lowell Fulson's ``Reconsider Baby'' is tastefully faithful, but Clapton doesn't command the tune the way Elvis Presley did. Two numbers associated with Clapton mentor Muddy Waters mainly inspire a wish to hear the father - especially in the case of ``Standin' 'Round Crying,'' which copies Waters' original down to a sideman's yell of ``Aw man, leave that woman alone!''
The depth of this music's meaning in Clapton's life is indisputable, but he's communicated it more meaningfully in the personal translations of ``Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs'' and ``461 Ocean Boulevard.'' A few acoustic cuts on ``Cradle'' are telling - who'd argue with the relevance of the lovely ``Motherless Child'' or a rearrangement of Charles Brown's ``Driftin' Blues''? There's no denying that Clapton's guitar blazes impressively, even articulately, throughout this record. But his most impassioned stuff these days seems to be his quietest.
- Rickey Wright
Pain on display
Sinead O'Connor, ``Universal Mother'' (Chrysalis/EMI/Ensign). The Irish enfant terrible returns with her first album of original material since 1990's ``I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got.'' Seemingly a bit more at peace - one of this disc's most affecting tracks is a 21-second ditty sung by 7-year-old son Jake Reynolds - O'Connor hasn't given up the rage that fueled her early classic or her subsequent media-guerrilla activities.
Her pain is on display for anyone to hear. ``Fire on Babylon,'' ``Red Football'' and ``Tiny Grief Song'' detail personal torments ranging from the death of her mother to her treatment by tabloids. `` `Famine,' '' the record's sole explicitly political song and one of only two real barnburners, rails against the sickness of her native country.
Yet O'Connor's taking time in her tirade to plead for ``forgiving, . . . knowledge and understanding,'' is a sign of what she's on to. Like the John Lennon LPs to which ``I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got'' was often compared, the real message of ``Universal Mother'' is one of compassion and liberation. Despite its unevenness - a hushed version of Kurt Cobain's ``All Apologies'' is perhaps the most fully realized music here - this often moving CD makes her case.
- Rickey Wright
Clumsy rap
MC Eiht Featuring CMW, ``We Come Strapped'' (Epic Street). Five hundred thousand gangsta fans can be wrong. This 15-cut paean to killing, robbing and dealing is every bit as fake as Hammer's claims to be an O.G. on his last album. The Compton-based rapper's specialties are clumsy boasts clumsily delivered over downbeat, synth-heavy funk that ain't that funky. Monochromatic lyrically, with Eiht continually praising ``real niggaz'' and slapping down ``bitches,'' the disc may not be socially irresponsible, but it sure does stink.
- Rickey Wright
Old-school fun Sandra Bernhard, ``Excuses for Bad Behavior, Part 1'' (550 Music). Now that half the alternative music out there sounds like it dates the Ford Administration, Sandra Bernhard has made a record with strong echoes of old-school Bette Midler and Grace Jones. There's funny chat (``Who knew? The fabulous Jackie Bouvier knew. Running around the world in her teeny bikini designed by the one and only Oleg Cassini''). There are not-half-bad covers, including slowed-down arrangements of ``You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)'' and ``Sympathy for the Devil.'' The ballads and raunchy comedy mostly fall flat, but sometimes you can recognize the campmaster who made Letterman uncomfortable back when that was harder to do.
- Mark Mobley MEMO: To hear selections from these albums, call Infoline at 640-5555,
category 2468.
ILLUSTRATION: Photos
Eric Clapton
Rapper, MC Eiht
Sinead O'Connor
by CNB