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A parallel dimension, a hell/paradise populated by strange figures, explosions of fluids, acidic clouds, monochromatic beams of light. A three-eyed mask, smiling, vanishes in an orgasmic and acidic triumph of lysergic memory. The perfect cover for an album that is the explosion of creativity, the definitive break from the old schemes of music understood as "blues".
Year 1968, symbolically at the center of the new culture: a year earlier, the Summer Of Love; shortly after, in '69, the Jefferson Airplane, on the other side of the world, will shout to "tear down the wall", while the Zeppelin will begin the inexorable takeoff, destined for unimaginable feats. Year 1968, "Wheels Of Fire" by the British Cream. The pinnacle of their short but very dense career.
An LP divided into two: the modern anarchy of studio experimentation, the battle between the three members of the band; the visceral live compositions violated, at the Fillmore, where the old blues is dismembered and reassembled with crazy distortions (for the time). "White Room", a sharp blues-rock penned by Jack Bruce (with lyrics by Pete Brown), inaugurates the studio-recorded part, continuing with the bluesy "Sitting In The Top Of The World": for a few months, they truly were, on top of the world, alongside Hendrix, the Doors, and a few others blessed by the adoration of the crowds. Each member has their moment of release: Ginger Baker, a versatile drummer, has his "Pressed Rat And Warthog", with a tribal rhythm and a precious and discreet brass section (Felix Pappalardi); Eric Clapton elevates the old tracks with his incandescent guitar, providing solos respectful of the classics to "Born Under A Bad Sign". Bruce's voice stands out clean while his bass becomes a soloist for much of the duration.
The second half of the work, the live one, turns out to be incredible, historic. An "Spoonful" stretched beyond 16 minutes where the crack that will sink the ensemble becomes evident: each member wants to dominate, Clapton and Bruce challenge each other in endless solos, while Baker gives (demands) 16 minutes of a tribal solo with drums pounded without grace. Not forgetting a famous "Crossroads" dedicated to the densest blues-rock. In "Traintime" Bruce sets aside the bass to bring a bit of old-style with his harmonica.
This monumental fresco will remain the epitaph of the group, not counting posthumous live (and the negligible "Goodbye"). Exaggerated, verbose, exceptional despite its excesses: it lacks the spontaneity of "Fresh Cream" and the right measure of "Disraeli Gears", in this "Wheels Of Fire" there is everything, and even too much.
Tracklist Lyrics Samples and Videos
01 White Room (05:03)
In the white room with black curtains, near the station
Blackroof country, no gold pavements, tired starlings
Silver horses ran down moonbeams in your dark eyes
Dawnlight smiles on you, leaving my contentment
I'll wait in this place where the sun never shines
Wait in this place where the shadows run from themselves
You said no strings could secure you at the station
Platform ticket, restless diesels, goodbye windows
I walked into such a sad time at the station
As I walked out, felt my own need just beginning
I'll wait in the queue when the trains come back
Lie with you where the shadows run from themselves
At the party she was kindness in the hard crowd
Consolation for the old wound now forgotten
Yellow tigers crouched in jungles in her dark eyes
She's just dressing, goodbye windows, tired starlings
I'll sleep in this place with the lonely crowd
Lie in the dark where the shadows run from themselves
02 Sitting on Top of the World (05:01)
One summer day, she went away;
Gone and left me, she's gone to stay.
She's gone, but I don't worry:
I'm sitting on top of the world.
All the summer, worked all this fall.
Had to take Christmas in my overalls.
Chorus
Going down to the freight yard, gonna catch me a freight train.
Going to leave this town; worked and got to home.
Chorus
05 Pressed Rat and Warthog (03:18)
by Ginger Baker and Mike Taylor
Pressed rat and warthog have closed down their shop.
They didn't want to; 'twas all they had got.
Selling atonal apples, amplified heat,
And pressed rat's collection of dog legs and feet.
Sadly they left, telling no one goodbye.
Pressed rat wore red jodhpurs, warthog a striped tie.
Between them, they carried a three-legged sack,
Went straight round the corner and never came back.
Pressed rat and warthog have closed down their shop.
The bad captain madman had told them to stop
Selling atonal apples, amplified heat,
And pressed rat's collection of dog legs and feet.
The bad captain madman had ordered their fate.
He laughed and stomped off with a nautical gate.
The gate turned into a deroga tree
And his pegleg got woodworm and broke into three.
Pressed rat and warthog have closed down their shop.
They didn't want to; 'twas all they had got.
Selling atonal apples, amplified heat,
And pressed rat's collection of dog legs and feet.
06 Politician (04:16)
Hey now baby, get into my big black car.
Hey now baby, get into my big black car.
I want to just show you what my politics are.
I'm a political man and I practice what I preach.
I'm a political man and I practice what I preach.
So don't deny me baby, not while you're in my reach.
I support the left, though I'm leaning, leaning to the right.
I support the left, though I'm leaning to the right.
But I'm just not there when it's coming to a fight.
Hey now baby, get into my big black car.
Hey now baby, get into my big black car.
I want to just show you what my politics are.
07 Those Were the Days (02:57)
When the city of Atlantis stood serene above the sea,
Long time before our time when the world was free,
Those were the days.
Golden cymbals flying on ocarina sounds,
Before wild Medusa's serpents gave birth to hell
Disguised as heaven.
Those were the days, yes they were, those were the days.
Those were their ways, miracles everywhere are they now?
They're gone.
Those were their ways, yes they were, those were their ways.
Those were the days, yes they were, those were the days.
Tie your painted shoes and dance, blue daylight in your hair,
Overhead a noiseless eagle fans a flame.
Wonder everywhere.
Those were the days, yes they were, those were the days.
Those were their ways, miracles everywhere are they now?
They're gone.
Those were their ways, yes they were, those were their ways.
Those were the days, yes they were, those were the days.
08 Born Under a Bad Sign (03:13)
Born under a bad sign
i've been down since i began to crawl
if it wasn't for bad luck
i wouldn't have no luck at all
bad luck and trouble is my only friend
i've been down ever since i was ten
Born under a bad sign
i've been down since i began to crawl
if it wasn't for bad luck
i wouldn't have no luck at all
More wine and women
is all i crave
big bad women gunna carry me to my grave
Born under a bad sign
i've been down since i began to crawl
if it wasn't for bad luck
i wouldn't have no luck at all
bad luck and trouble is my only friend
i've been down ever since i was ten
Born under a bad sign
i've been down since i began to crawl
if it wasn't for bad luck
i wouldn't have no luck
if it wasn't for real bad luck
i wouldn't have no luck at all
born under a bad sign
born under a bad sign
09 Deserted Cities of the Heart (03:38)
Upon this street where time has died.
The golden treat you never tried.
In times of old, in days gone by.
If I could catch your dancing eye.
It was on the way,
On the road to dreams, yeah.
Now my heart's drowned in no love streams, yeah.
The street is cold, its trees are gone.
The story's told the dark has won.
Once we set sail to catch a star.
We had to fail, it was too far.
It was on the way,
On the road to dreams, yeah.
Now my heart's drowned in no love streams, yeah.
I felt the wind shout like a drum.
You said, "My friend, love's end has come."
It couldn't last, had to stop.
You drained it all to the last drop.
It was on the way,
On the road to dreams, yeah.
Now my heart's drowned in no love streams, yeah.
Now my heart's drowned in no love streams, yeah.
On this dark street the sun is black.
The winter life is coming back.
On this dark street it's cold inside.
There's no retreat from time that's died.
It was on the way,
On the road to dreams, yeah.
Now my heart's drowned in no love streams, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Now my heart's drowned in no love streams, yeah.
Now my heart's drowned in no love.
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