At the end of the Rainbow

We started the season with an Eric Clapton concert, so it's fitting to close one that really gave me the blues with another even better one. And then to cap off the weekend, we had another ticket for the once- in-a-lifetime experience of Pete Townshend at Lincoln Center with Quadrophenia.

In April, E.C. was illin', on Sept. 8, he was chillin'. There was no reason to cry. We haven't seen Eric this loose and happy in quite a while, and it really showed in his performance. Well all right, he delivered kind of a modern-day greatest hits collection, but it sounded great all the same.

Let me offer a few disparaging words about the setlist before I get back to the effusiveness. When you have all of Madison Square Garden on our collective feet, you probably shouldn't start off with songs designed to have us sit back down. The setlist generator was clearly broken. "Someone's Knockin'" into "Key to the Highway" into the now tried-and-true "Hoochie Coochie Man" is kind of a backless start.



Eric came out from behind the sun with "I Shot the Sheriff," and correct me if I'm wrong, but save a little forgivable flub -- flub, what flub? I don't remember any flub, the solos on that were the best they've been in a while. They do tend to cause flashbacks to the phenomenal shows of the early '90s and just how searing those solos could get, but Clapton's lone No. 1 song -- to date -- shows the resilience and relevance of Bob Marley's tune and the journeyman's way of delivering it.

The biggest surprise of the evening was the crowd's reaction to "Lay Down Sally." Mark was chuckling all the way through over how the audience went bonkers for that song. I reckon it's because three greatest hits compilations have been released in recent years and a sizable amount of the crowd must know the tracks from those releases. Either that or they watch a lot of VH-1.



But there was more evidence for the former supposition, as he rolled out other assorted love songs, the acoustic "Layla" -- now I understand why there wasn't a backup guitarist in the lineup -- "Tears in Heaven" and "Wonderful Tonight."

If there was one disappointment, it might be the overlooking of Don Williams, who passed earlier in the day, and someone very influential in Eric's late '70s run. With the ever-youthful Chris Stainton on keyboards still, couldn't we have gotten at least a dash of "Tulsa Time"? Then again, all the people who didn't get the "No Snow, No Show" reference on Mark's T-shirt probably wouldn't have understood that ditty without an explanation from Clapton.



I learned via Facebook that "White Room" returned to the setlist, and that was really the cream of the show for me. But once again, Eric got everyone on their feet, only to have us return to our chairs for "Wonderful Tonight." I don't know about the rest of the fogies, but I came to rock out.

We got the chance to do so on "Cocaine" -- I still haven't gotten over everyone not knowing from Nathan East's gorgeous bass line intro that the song's coming, only reacting when the drums kick in -- and then Clapton got back into Disraeli gear for "Sunshine of Your Love." It looked like Nathan enjoyed himself twice as much during the Cream numbers.

The capper brought openers Jimmie Vaughan and Gary Clark Jr. back on stage for a rousing "Before You Accuse Me,"  with Eric playing the Epiphone that Clark reportedly gave to him. And it was then one is reminded of Slowhand's staying power, because the opening acts kept it in the pocket in their respective solos while Eric showed there's just no one like him and there never will be. He's back home on the stage.



Vaughan and Clark Jr. set the scene so well, too bad most of the assembled couldn't have cared less -- well at least until Gary coerced them to look up from the cell phones and pay attention.  Jimmie wringed every last drop out of his vocals. He was a little fixated on what we'll call the flamenco-style arpeggio, but he sounded so much like his late brother, Stevie Ray, vocally on this night. "Texas Flood," with resonance to Hurricanes Harvey and Irma, was the understandable -- and rightful -- highlight.

Clark Jr. continues to prove he's just one of the best around. I proclaimed him "awwwwwe-some" after "When My Train Pulls In" and then he stepped to the microphone and said "This is kind of awesome." Then there's "Our Love," a song that sounds so gorgeously like a Prince song -- and bathed in purple light -- that I thought it was a cover. And then one to make sure the crowd was engaged, the Beatles cover "Come Together."

Now while we sort of knew what to expect from a Clapton show, that's how unaware we were of what Quadrophenia ultimately was going to be like. It's a totally different vibe to go to Lincoln Center, past the magnificent fountain outside and the incredible chandeliers inside, and experience a rock opera in a literal sense.

What we couldn't have possibly expected was Alfie Boe, the English tenor sliding seemingly effortlessly into the demanding role the world associates with Who frontman Roger Daltrey. He was not only pitch-perfect on the vocal gymnastics, but also tremendous and charismatic in his interactions on stage with Pete Townshend and Billy Idol, who popped on and off the stage as called for by their respective contributions.

Now Townshend has always shown something of a flair for the dramatic, so watching him take the stage for songs like "The Dirty Jobs" and "The Real Me" didn't seem that much of a stretch. And as Mark said, there's a pre-existing motif in Quadrophenia that just fit perfectly into the program they delivered before the packed and enthusiastic house at Lincoln Center.

Boe just killed it every possible way, particularly when signature song, "Love Reigns O'er Me," recurred throughout the program. We just felt it in every atom of our bodies, head to toe. Even writing the words down now months later, I can recollect the vibrance and resonance of his delivery.

So we got to experience two incredible legends -- and two of our absolute favorites -- in one remarkable weekend. Now more than ever, we seem to be treasuring our inspirations whenever we can see them, not knowing whether another such opportunity will come around again. With these two shows, it wasn't just about the occasion to do so, but to relish the likes of Clapton and Townshend enjoying what they can do and delivering on such a level that their respective shows provided a glowing example of who and what they still can be as performers and creative forces.