Jammers par excellence, Masters of the extended solo, purveyors of Johnsonian blues, the Supergroup formerly known as Cream for a brief period in the nineteen-sixties and now together again are rumored to perform in New York City.
When they played Royal Albert Hall this spring, tickets sold out faster than ice cream (heh heh, ice "cream") in Central Park on a hot summer day. A New York gig won't be any different, I am sure. But I hope I get to watch them live this time around. I also know I *will* someday grow a third arm and will finally be able to play the solo on "Crossroads". You gotta have faith-uh-faith-uh-faith-ha.
Like any other dinosaur act (albeit a very talented and exciting dinosaur), tickets are going to be scarce and consequently, pricey.
A "premium front floor" seat is going for $3,295. That's the seat from where you can smell the burning fretboard. What do you mean Clapton doesn't burn his guitars? At $3,295, I would like Mr. EC to not only burn his famous Gibson SG, but also smash Ginger's drum kit and sing "Happy Birthday to You" in a skirt. Ok, maybe not.
But come on, $3,295 for 2 hours of blues music?
And what's with this business of ticket-brokers getting the best seats in the house? I took 10 years to find out what SWLABR stands for, but still.
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