When "Eric Clapton" finally released his first all-blues album ("From The Cradle To The Grave") in 1994, it was a quiet affirmation that the British guitarist was finally at ease, or at least coming to grips with, his many various contributions to the American musical form.

From his earliest days with John Mayall's Bluesbreakers, ol' Slowhand has spent most of his life modifying the oath and emotion of the 12-bar blues. Whether acid-drenched in Cream, gone for a Southern shuffle with Delaney and Bonnie, or done-up as balladry in his '80s pop forays, Clapton's association with the blues has been met with multi-platinum sales, while introducing several generations of listeners to its heartache, loneliness, and eventual catharsis of the spirit and soul.

While this all-star collection of Clapton covers has been cynically sub-titled "this ain't no tribute" (to distance it from other albums of the ilk), just about every one of the performers here owes a deep debt to Clapton's own perseverance in spreading the influence of the blues. In a delightful turnaround, most of the versions here feature Clapton's work as earthier, roots-bound blues, with an emphasis on righteous grooves and individual performances. So, while the original "Blues Power" was a horn-driven shuffle, Koko Taylor turns it into a Hammond B-3 organ-drenched stomp, nearly a signature tune with her declarative soul shouts and vocal thrusts leading the charge.

Likewise, Buddy Guy alters the steamin' psych of "Strange Brew" into a fatback funk, with his thick lead guitar lines and bountiful string bends. Ann Peebles adds her floating alto to the remake of "Tears In Heaven" here, a stirring, gospelish version that introduces a new spirituality to the oft-covered tune. And who could fault Bo Diddley for remaking his own "Before You Accuse Me" for the occasion, because only Bo knows Bo.

With contributions from blues veterans like Honeyboy Edwards, Pinetop Perkins, Otis Rush, Joe Louis Walker, and Otis Clay (who takes the sublime "Wonderful Tonight" to a new level with his rich tenor), Clapton's rock fans may feel just a little displaced until the closing version of "Layla" comes roaring through the speakers. Although nothing may match the initial impact of the Derek and The Dominoes' original, Eric Gales and blues wunderkind Derek Trucks weave through the song's complex riffing until Trucks rips off a minute's worth of the most incredible, jaw-droppin' slidework of his young career (which is somewhat eerie and ironic by assuming Duan Allman's part here, as Trucks has also recently joined The Allman Brothers Band).

In its own simple manner, this disc puts a new perspective on Clapton's music by drawing his tunes closer to their source. And Clapton's probably honored just by the thought.