It’s probably not a popular opinion about a guitarist who was once called “God,” but this album is all the Eric Clapton I’ve ever really needed. I preferred Jeff Beck’s Yardbirds, never loved Cream or Blind Faith and found his solo career to be a snooze. Always.
But Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs is everything that I could ever want out of a blues-rock album. Which, admittedly, is not a big category for me, but on Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs, Clapton was pushed hard by a combination of a broken heart, Duane Allman, Bobby Whitlock, heroin, and a absolutely crack rhythm section.