Tales Of Brave Ulysses

I played this for my mother.

I didn't buy "Fresh," not at first, my initial Cream purchase was "Disraeli Gears," way before "Sunshine Of Your Love" got airplay, I experienced it as an album, it revealed itself to me with each play, and the song that hooked me was the second side opener, "Tales Of Brave Ulysses."

Not that I knew anything about Greek tragedy, it's just that the record had a sound that spoke to me, that took me out of my bedroom into a vast world that I thought would understand me.

I finally had a stereo, I'd cashiered my record player, that all-in-one unit with platter and speaker and tonearm sporting a coin to make sure the record didn't skip. And I detached one speaker from my new listening apparatus, it was a Columbia unit, that's right, the record company also made hardware, and dragged it to my mother's bedroom so she could hear and share what I did.

She did not get it.

But I still do.

Contemplating Robert Stigwood's death I pulled up "Disraeli Gears" on my Sonos system. And "Strange Brew" sounded better than I'd imagined, it was never my favorite track on the LP, but decades later it fit the pocket, it was so satisfying.

Unlike "Sunshine Of Your Love," which I've heard enough not to need to hear it again.

But then I thought of all the album tracks, that were secondary back then but I know by heart. Like "Dance The Night Away" and "SWLABR." "Dance The Night Away" is the antithesis of today, it's not playing to the back row of an arena, it sounds like it barely escaped the studio, at best is playing in a pub. The music is unselfconscious and personal. And that guitar riff in "SWLABR" was a revelation, I liked it more than I did back in '68.

And then I heard "Tales Of Brave Ulysses"...

"You thought the Latin winter would bring you down forever..."

But really it's all about the instrumental intro, bombastic and then ethereal, as if me and the band were on a ship in the Aegean, just us, experiencing this intense tale. It all came back, 1968, Farist Road, Andrew Warde High School, going to bed early to go skiing in Vermont, my entire life was laid out in front of me.

I purchased the LP at Barkers, on the Post Road in Westport, another discount outlet like Topps and Korvette's with a record department amidst the chozzerai, this was long before the standalone record shop, these were our record stores.

And it wasn't the flimsy, intensely-colored U.K. cover, that didn't reach U.S. shores until later. Rather it was orange cardboard, and although I bought "Wheels Of Fire" early enough to get the shiny silver gatefold cover, what was inside was what truly mattered, the record.

And there was no social media, there was no sharing, it was just you and the sound, one you'd never heard before, it was all news to you.

And sure, you might talk about records at school, but really it was just you and the band, creating a bond, which is why you went to see them live, which I did twice that year, before most people knew who Eric Clapton was, when people were just starting to say Ginger Baker was a speed freak.

"And the colors of the sea blind your eyes with trembling mermaids"

It was psychedelic, when people were doing LSD and Day-Glo was permeating the universe but it was all brand new, today we've got tech exploration but back then it was all about testing cultural limits, there was a new trend every week, it was hard to keep up, you were either on the bus or you weren't, you were either hip or you weren't, there was a schism in society and the dividing line was the music.

"Tiny purple fishes run laughing through your fingers"

I knew all the words, not that I had them down accurately. I'd sing them to myself in the halls of high school. You couldn't take your music with you, you had to wait until you got home to drop the needle, which you did immediately and continued to do as you did your homework, as you fell asleep, I had a timer to turn my stereo off, music was the most important thing.

These are the tales of Brave Bobby. When I found these records and they carved deep, indelible ripples into the tissues of my mind.


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