Arguments about the musical divinity of Eric Clapton have raged for the better part of four decades now. His Atlanta show offered no hints of proof either way but showed a relaxed, well-matured artist who knows what the majority of his heroes never did: how to make the blues pay. Following a rather lackluster opening salvo (salvaged only by a glittering “I Shot The Sheriff”), Clapton found his groove in a sit-down acoustic set of Robert Johnson tunes. Even if Slow Hand’s versions lost the grit, paranoia and despair of “Me & The Devil Blues” and “If I Had Possession Over Judgment Day,” the songs retained a haunting, eerie quality made even stranger in this white-bred environment. Ignoring most of his hits from the past two and a half decades in favor of cuts like “Have You Ever Loved A Woman,” the audience occasionally became restless but uring a stunning, epic “Badge,” all the restlessness was filed away. Couples then swayed together during “Wonderful Tonight”, raised fists for the hard rocking, full version of “Layla” and sang along to “Cocaine.” All of these were punctuated with delicately tasteful musical interludes that sounded like glass and sweat. For an encore, “Sunshine Of Your Love” was offered. The classic Cream cut should’ve ended the night with power. Instead, an anti-climactic duet with opener Jimmie Vaughan on “Sweet Home Chicago” closed out the mixed bag of an evening. When all was said and done, Clapton managed a well-balanced set that pleased fans while allowing him to explore what really excites him. That’s an impressive achievement in itself. Clapton may not be God, but he is a divine guitar player.