Hello, Old Sock. In case you didn’t know, that’s a UK greeting to a man. (Female readers, please don’t be offended. I greet you as well.) We won’t even get into the Shakespearean double entendres with sock phrases. A Brit friend of mine offered that an old sock more specifically designates a stick-in-the-mud, fuddy-duddy or square.

Judging from most of the national and international reviews of Eric Clapton’s latest work “Old Sock,” it sounds like “Slow Hand” spoiled the fun for the in-crowd forever on the prowl for something “fresh,” “smart,” and “edgy.” Most reviewers showed decent deference to the guitarist forever graffitied in our brain as “Clapton is God” and gave him a pass for earning the right to record whatever he wants.
I found “Old Sock,” including the cover photo, absolutely charming. Clapton turns 68 this month and more than most recording artists, he seems to understand musical tradition and history. The 10 cover tracks on this his 20th album show an appreciation for a good song. And instead of dropping names for the sake of touting an A list of gala invitees, Clapton in proper form shows his appreciation for other phenomenal artists by including them on his CD because they penned the songs in the first place.
Having Taj Mahal play harmonica and banjo on “Further On Down the Road” seems just good manners. The song is his after all. And really, Clapton does owe J.J. Cale quite a bit for career-rocketing songs over the years, so why not have the old sock play guitar and sing along on Cale’s “Angel.” Did you notice how J.J. Cale-esque the cover photo is?
If fellow guitarist Gary Moore were still alive, I’m sure he would have been included on “Still Got the Blues.” But Clapton’s on-again off-again musical partner of old Steve Winwood gives the Irishman a proper wake on the Hammond B3 organ.
On track after track on this album, nostalgia and sentimental indulgence in musical roots seep through. Clapton whines out Lead Belly’s “Goodnight Irene” in a pedal steel, country fashion that would complement Ernest Tubb’s cover. The country twang in “Born to Lose” (of course not as good as Ray Charles’s version, but nonetheless worthy of jukebox tears) and the uptempo swing in “All of Me,” a la Louis Armstrong and Willie Nelson, breaks through the noise of today’s techno and dubstep static.
Speaking of static, the countless of mismatched socks that come out of my dryer seem to find a life of their own. And what do you do with an old sock anyway? Maybe it becomes recycled into a dust rag, a craft doll, something to wrap a fragile heirloom in, or maybe something to carefully clean off an old vinyl record with.
That’s what these songs are. Old socks. Peter Tosh’s “Till Your Well Runs Dry” and Otis Redding’s “Your One and Only Man” can hang around as long as artists like Clapton make them useful and befriend them. Clapton throws in a Gershwin jazz standard, “Our Love Is Here to Stay,” that seems to have come out of the studio without a mate on the record. I thought the discordant vocals of his children at the end of “Every Little Thing” added even more meaning to the song, especially knowing about the tragic loss of his son Conor. Our children are definitely a testament to our
love, and I love the inclusion of “The Folks Who Live on the Hill.” Associated with the ideal world of the perfect family made popular by song legend Peggy Lee, the song especially appeals to me by mentioning my two children in the lyrics, Darby and Jon. Okay, a little license there because the lyrics actually say Darby and Joan, but close enough.

Maybe edgy and smart and fresh keep the thrill in music. But maybe a few old friends and having your family close by can keep the good times gently rolling. Maybe a few recycled and mismatched encounters can keep a well-worn softness in our hearts.
And you know, after listening to “Old Sock” a few times, I’m reminded of another song — “Hello, old friend, it’s really good to see you once again.”

Emily Tuttle is a freelance writer living in Minot. Her e-mail address is emilytuttle@roadrunner.com.

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