Well, he’s still alive... just.
And at 73, Ginger Baker is still playing with almost cast-iron authority.
Seeing him in concert this week left me reflecting on the first time I saw him play – 46 years ago – and this, perhaps the last time I will see him play.
“You just want to see me die on stage,” said Ginger, coming back on for the encore. “And I’m not joking...”
He’d just finished a resounding Aiko Biaye that had just as much energy as when he played it live with his big band, Airforce, in the 1970s... even though his troops are now down to just three heavyweight musicians: Alec Dankworth on bass, Pee Wee Ellis on sax and Abass Dodoo on percussion.
I think Ginger made the odd mis-hit and certainly dropped a few sticks, but for a man who seemed to have considerable difficulty walking on and off stage, and for whom talking seemed to be a breath-draining ordeal, he was on remarkable form, dictating the play with assuredness, invention and an “I’m in charge” arrogance that you wouldn’t want to argue with.
For once, he seems to be doing what he wants, and with the musicians he wants to do it with. There was even a smile occasionally breaking through that taut grimace beneath the shades.
How much longer will this true legend of drumming be with us? I have learned over the past 40 years that there are other drummers who are as great as Ginger – and possibly more versatile. But you could have said the same about Gene Krupa...
These real drumming legends are not technicians... they are musicians and magicians... and they are inspirational, heroic and, of course, also flawed and mortal.
There won’t be another Krupa. There won’t be another Baker...