In The Gears
Will Johns chats about the Music of Cream, dodging the blues police and taking the solo of his career
by Dave Kirby
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he Music of Cream’s tour manager (his name is Simon), fielded my call to Will Johns a couple of weeks ago, and walked the phone out to the tour bus. The band was on Vancouver Island, prepping for the second night of their almost three-month tour, and Johns was changing strings on his Music Man EVH solid body, the unmistakable sound of clinking metal strands coming up to pitch, the working guitarist’s minute of dotage with his best friend for the night. He asks if it was OK he did that while we chatted. Sure, why not, even if it usually takes two hands to do it, and it doesn’t sound like he’s using a headset. Not trying to bait him or anything, but doesn’t he have a guitar tech? “Yeah, I should have a tech doing it for me, but... I’m not precious, I don’t mind doin’ it myself. And that way I know it’s done right,” he says with a laugh. Strum. Not quite up to pitch. Sounds like they need a stretch. “What’s funny is that Kofi likes to cut the sleeves of his T-shirts, right? And he’s got all this psychedelic shit that he wears, so I’ve got all these little psychedelic sleeve cut-offs which are perfect for stretching the strings. We’re even recycling that little bit of psychedelia.” Kofi, of course, is Kofi Baker, the drummer son of Ginger Baker and Johns’ partner in his ongoing Cream tribute enterprise. Johns is also Eric Clapton’s nephew (he’s the son of famed engineer Andy Johns and Paula BOULDER COUNTY’S INDEPENDENT VOICE
Boyd, sister of Clapton’s ex-wife Patti). The MoC project started a couple of years ago with a short tour of Australia and New Zealand to commemorate Cream’s 50th anniversary, and has since taken on a rambling inertia all its own. The band, currently a four-piece with bassist Sean McNabb and guitarist Chris Shutters, is performing Disraeli Gears top to bottom, alongside a handful of Clapton songs. The show includes personal stories and video images from those bonkers days of the late ’60s, when Cream was the biggest band in the world, furiously chiseling the blues-rock power trio paradigm into rock history before flaming out in less than three years under the pressures of exhaustion, chemicals and personal antagonisms. (Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker were famously at each other’s throats, more or less all the time.) Johns didn’t step into this spotlight merely through family associations, though. A well-respected blues-rock guitarist in his own right, Johns has a number of acclaimed albums to his name, as well as a few British Blues Award nominations for his solo work, so he aims for more than a costumed notefor-note tribute gig. But there’s plenty of resistance for Johns in his home country of England — squeezed between the glittery pop confection that chokes the hit radio airwaves on one flank and the ever-disparaging bluespurist contingent on the other, Johns prefers to take I
MARCH 12, 2020
his gig eastward. “Oh yeah, I don’t bother with [touring the U.K.],” he says. “After slogging up the M1 ... for a great many years, for no money — even if some satisfaction — I generally don’t rock with it. I prefer to go to Europe, to countries like the Czech Republic, and Moscow, where I go as part of the The Great British Rhythm and Blues Invasion. Whereas in the U.K., you’re kind up against the ‘blues police,’ sort of like, ‘Who do you think you are? Trying to impress me... you’re not John Lee Hooker.’ That sort of attitude.” The States may be a little easier. Guys like Joe Bonamassa and Gary Clark Jr. are succeeding in the blues arena, drawing big crowds and critical plaudits. And making a living. “And they come over to the U.K. also, and pull some big ticket prices as well,” Johns says. “I think the genre is alive and well, and I feel like I want to put my own stamp on it. Because I think it’s important music, and it’s important all around the world. Places like Moscow and the Czech Republic, and to these people, this kind of music is what’s real.” Johns has been able to bring his dedication and callouses to bear on the music of Cream, striking a balance between representing that long ago trio, and keeping its roots vivid and meaningful. “I think, just naturally, we’re able to interpret the music our way. We’ve come so far with being inspired by our respective parents and uncles and whatnot, but then being serious musicians, I guess that somehow we’ve been able to take what they’ve done and take it a bit further. “But yeah, I’ve had to put what I’m doing a little bit on the back burner. It’s hard to make plans around these sorts of tours, because you’ve got a long run-up. see MUSIC OF CREAM Page 20
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