Eric Clapton’s autobiography “Clapton” is one of the best rock autobiographies ever written. It is an immensely personal book, one that starts depressing and just gets worse as you read it. Yes, like all other memoirs of the sixties, Clapton talks a lot about the decadent sex, drugs, and rock ’n roll during that time, but he talks about the sex that destroyed his relationships, the drugs that nearly destroyed his life, and the rock ‘n roll that he sometimes had to fight to be a part of. Clapton goes back to the beginning, retracing every step he took to get from the being an abandoned child of the war living with his grandparents to becoming ‘God.’ He talks about his stints in the Yardbirds, Cream, as a solo artist, and his relationships with fellow musicians (particularly enjoyable was Clapton’s panic stricken introduction to Jimi Hendrix, who Clapton worried about because his playing was ‘the real deal’). Clapton isn’t shy to talk about his love affairs and drug use, going into great detail to describe his multiple addictions and his turbulent affair with Pattie Boyd (wifey of his good friend George Harrison, but if you've been on this site before, of course you already know that). Clapton also recounts his long road to recovery, discussing his struggle to find faith, and the death of his young son Conor.
The good thing is that Clapton made some mistakes in his life, and he more than owns up to them in the book. He even takes the blame for things that weren’t his fault. He admits to his indulgence in the over-the-top sixties, but also seeks redemption for past mistakes. He is funny and witty, yes, possessing the humor of someone who has seen almost too much in life. All in all it’s a very thorough look at a musician who has still remained an enigma in music history.