The tape was marked only in faded black ink: Eric Clapton – “Turn Up Down” – 1980 – Unreleased.
The middle eight collapsed into a solo. But this wasn't the fluid, lyrical, "Woman Tone" Clapton. This was fractured, jagged, dissonant. He bent notes until they screamed. He used a fuzz pedal like a weapon, not a tool. For forty-five seconds, he played like he was trying to claw the frets off the neck. It was the most honest thing he ever recorded.
And then Clapton started singing. His voice, usually a weathered, melancholic drawl, was raw. Torn. He wasn't crooning; he was confessing.