POP MUSIC WEEKEND : Eric Clapton: Music Still The Key to Rock’s Mercurial Mystery Man

Eric Clapton.

Just who is this guy?

That may sound like an odd question, but think about it: Despite 25 years as one of rock’s most recognized and revered figures, the real Clapton remains a mystery.

Remember, Clapton--who headlined the Irvine Meadows Amphitheatre on Friday night--is the man who for the first 15 or so years of his career changed looks and personae as often as most people change socks.

He’s gone from British blues hot-shot with the Yardbirds and John Mayall in the mid-’60s to psychedelic jam guru with Cream in the late-’60s to troubled superstar with Derek & the Dominoes in the early-’70s to reborn gentleman (musically and otherwise) in the mid-’70s and to dapper hit-maker in the ‘80s.

Through it all he’s regularly hidden himself among other luminaries (the ill-fated super-group Blind Faith) or as a communal-minded sideman (a stint with Delaney & Bonnie & Friends) as if he had some vampirish aversion to the spotlight.

Even these days, Clapton remains a moving target. Case in point: the recent multi-disc “Crossroads” retrospective in which he affirms his status as one of rock’s future Hall of Famers--and then undermines the image by capping the collection with a new version of one of his classic performances (“After Midnight”) re-essayed as a beer pitch.

Friday--following a rousing opening set of Louisiana party music from the group Buckwheat Zydeco--Clapton didn’t seem willing to offer many new hints as to his true identity. As is his habit, he armed himself with plenty to diffuse the worshipful, capacity crowd’s attention, including his standard guest-star-band-member.

Where the added celebrity last year was Phil Collins, this year it was guitarist Mark Knopfler, who took a large share of the guitar solos and led the band through an encore of his own “Money for Nothing.”

Clapton’s choice of material in the two-hour set was also something of a veil. While the songs summarized the range of his impressive career (including four hits drawn from as far back as his Cream years), they had little to say about his current tastes and direction. He performed only two songs from this decade.

Still, two threads that link all of Clapton’s contrasts emerged.

First, there was his guitar playing--not just the “Slowhand” skills that once inspired rampant “Clapton Is God” nonsense, but a distinctively economical, passion-filled style that is his trademark. In comparison, Knopfler’s often-stunning playing seemed “mere” dexterity.

More crucial was the sense of restless contentedness (or is it contended restlessness?) that Clapton projected--as he always has--as he stood center stage, eyes closed, reveling in his music. That paradox--that manifestation of inherent conflict--seems to be the essence of every note Clapton’s plays and helps shapes his greatest musical achievements.

On Friday, many of those achievements were offered, including spirited versions of the Cream numbers (notably a spectacular solo on “Badge”) and the marvelously layered “Layla”--still an epiphany of rock/blues elegance and power.

The most revealing moment, though, came toward the end of the show during Clapton’s 1985 “Same Old Blues,” the most traditional-sounding blues number of the set. Emerging from a moving guitar solo, Clapton broke into a big grin and finally stood in the open: no masks, no conflicts, no paradoxes. Just a singularly talented man and his love for his music.

That’s Eric Clapton.