Three Axmen, A Fair Maid, A Madman – And One for the Ages

Regular readers know that Jonn tolerates my occasional random wanderings here at TAH.  And be forewarned:  I’m about to ramble again.  Read on or not, as you so desire.

If you choose to continue, you’ve been forewarned.  (smile)

. . .

Years ago, in a faraway kingdom, lived two Axmen.  Both were renowned and talented – indeed, the First Axman was for a time considered the best in the kingdom (if not the world) at his craft, while the Second Axman was considered one of the best as well.

Rather than being rivals, the two Axmen chose to work together at their craft.  And they also became friends.

The Second Axman had a Fair Maid as his spouse.  That title was truly apropos, as she was renowned throughout the kingdom for her beauty.  And neither was she what we would call today an “airhead” – besides being beautiful, she was also talented.

Unfortunately, the Second Axman became enamored of the teachings of a foreign sage.  He began to drift away from and neglect his Fair Maid.

As it happened, the First Axman was at the time without attachment.  And he saw the neglect of the Fair Maid by the Second Axman – and saw how much it pained her.

You probably think you know what happened next.  And yes, you’d be essentially correct.

The First Axman fell headlong for the Fair Maid (some accounts say they became lovers; others are silent on the matter).  Regardless:  after a time the First Axman begged the Fair Maid to choose him over her spouse.

After a time, the Fair Maid made her decision:  she decided to stay with her spouse.  The First Axman was, predictably, greatly affected – “crushed” would be a fair description.

In his grief, the First Axman left his native country.  He found another place, and gathered together around him other skilled persons in related trades.

These skilled persons included a Third Axman – one who was fast becoming widely renowned himself.  It also included another renowned, skilled individual who would later become mad.

The First and Third Axmen immediately became as close as hand and glove, professionally.  Their work as a partnership was sublime.  While exercising their craft, it was as if they shared the same thoughts and goals – yet expressed them uniquely in a way that complimented each other as had only rarely ever happened before.

The First Axman poured his sorrow into his work.  And one day, he found some unfinished work of the third skilled man – the one who would later become mad.

The First Axman added his sorrow to that unfinished work, along with some unfinished work of his own.  The Third Axman came, found the result, and added his own skilled interpretation.

The result was a rare and compelling meisterwerk of the First Axman’s craft.  Today, it is still held by those familiar with the field as truly “one for the ages”.

. . .

After a time, the Fair Maid finally decided to leave the Second Axman.  And sometime after that, the Fair Maid moved to a new land – the same land as had the First Axman.  Eventually, the First Axman and the Fair Maid did wed.

They were happy for a while.  But after some years together, they too separated.

The First and Second Axman continued, both at their craft and with their lives.  The Second Axman eventually became sick and died.  The First Axman lived on.

The First Axman had a child with another woman after he and the Fair Maid had separated.   Unfortunately, that child died tragically at a very young age.

The Third Axman’s time on earth was short.  He died young, in a tragic accident roughly a year after working with the First Axman.

The skilled craftsman who was later to become mad eventually did become mad – indeed, he became a raving lunatic.  He murdered his own mother, and was imprisoned.

Draw whatever moral conclusions you wish from how all of this turned out.

. . .

The story above is not apocryphal.  The individuals are real; some of them are still alive today.

The madman is Jim Gordon. He was a renowned musician – a highly in-demand session drummer – in the 1960s and 1970s.  The list of people with whom he worked reads like a “who’s who” of popular music in the 1960s and 1970s, including Joe Cocker, the Beach Boys, Traffic, Steely Dan, George Harrison, and others – and, of course, Eric Clapton.  Gordon had mental issues – paranoid schizophrenia, as it turned out.   Over time, it worsened.  In 1983, he went off the rails full-blown batsh!t crazy, and murdered his mother.  Due to reform of California’s laws concerning the insanity defense, he was not allowed to plead guilty by reason of insanity.  He was found guilty of murder, and is still incarcerated today in a California specialty prison for the mentally ill.

The Third Axman was Duane Allman – yes, that Duane Allman, brother to Greg and one of the founding members of the Allman Brothers Band.  I don’t think I need to say anything more about his career.

The Second Axman was George Harrison.  Yes, the George Harrison of Beatles fame.  I’m guessing his career probably doesn’t require much explanation either.

The Fair Maid was Pattie Boyd.  She was a famous English model in the early 1960s, and later became a skilled photographer.  She met George Harrison while working on the set of A Hard Day’s Night and later married him.  They separated in 1974; their divorce was finalized in 1977.  She married Eric Clapton in 1979; they separated in 1984, and divorced in 1988.

The First Axman was Eric Clapton. I don’t really think I need to discuss his career, either.

Clapton and Harrison worked together from 1968 through about 1970.  They worked together during the recording of Cream’s “Goodbye” album; Harrison and Clapton co-wrote the album’s single “Badge”, and played on it as well.  Their work together ended when Boyd decided she would stay with her then-husband.

The group of skilled persons Clapton gathered together after ending his affair with Boyd called themselves, simply, “Derek and the Dominos”.

. . .

The masterwork referenced above is the tune called Layla; I presume you’ve heard it before.  If not – or if it’s been a while and you care to hear it again – you can listen to the original version here.

The song is considered one of the top tunes of its genre in popular music history.  And maybe it’s just me, but personally I’ve only heard one song that comes close to conveying the sense of loss that the original version of Layla conveys – Taps, when played at a memorial service for the fallen.  And I’ve also only heard a few that covey anywhere near the sense of desperate, near-crazed longing the first half of the original conveys as well.

Clapton authored the first half of the original tune.  The second half – the instrumental portion after the abrupt change, beginning with the brief piano coda starting at around 3:10 in the original – is based on a piece of music written by Jim Gordon (though at least one source claims that the piano coda was instead authored by Rita Coolidge).  Gordon played piano and drums.  The guitar work was by Clapton and Allman.

I find few – if any – pieces of instrumental popular music to be as intensely moving as the latter half of Layla, beginning with the piano coda.  But that may just be me; YMMV.

The later, “Unplugged” version of Layla is a nice tune.  But since it’s played at a slower pace and omits the original instrumental solos and the entire second half of the original, it simply isn’t the same.  IMO, it doesn’t convey the raw desperation contained in the original song’s first half – and it completely omits the crushing despair and sense of unbearable, catastrophic loss found in the original’s second half.

. . .

Why this article?  Good question.  Perhaps I just thought some TAH readers would enjoy the backstory.  And as I said above:  Jonn gives me the latitude to stray “off the reservation” from time to time, and on occasion I choose do that.

But I think there’s a bit more in the way of reasons.  Two more, to be precise.

First:  TAH’s readership tends a bit older.  Although I first heard Layla as a teen – and it was compelling then – IMO it’s not a song a young man can fully “get”.  You need to have lived a bit to fully understand it.

IMO, you need to have been there yourself – to have “loved and lost”.  And few in their teens or early 20s actually have done that.

Hell, IMO some people my age probably still don’t “get it”.  I hold that unless you’ve had a similar experience (not necessarily involving infidelity, but involving losing someone you held dear to another) – you simply can’t understand the tune fully.

I suspect most TAH readers have lived enough to “get it”.

Second:  the tune connected with me while I was very young.  I didn’t know why at the time.  But I knew this tune was somehow different from others that I liked.  I knew that the difference was . . . important.

Even then, I think I knew that the song was telling me something I couldn’t yet understand.

Later, full understanding came.  And that’s all I’ll say.

. . .

Thanks for reading.  I’ll be heading back to the res now.

Category: Pointless blather, Who knows