Drummer's Farewell

Sad to see that 'Drummer' magazine has just put out its final issue. It was often alone in presenting some intelligent coverage of drummers and drumming, with 'Rhythm' tending to concentrate on metal and speed, and even the once dependably serious 'Modern Drummer' starting to move in a similar direction.

The best thing in the final issue, apart from the general feeling of optimism and encouragement from the editor and her team, was an interview with Jon Hiseman, a truly remarkable musician and, judging by this and other interviews, a really good and caring human being.

The first drum kit I ever got close to and, in fact, helped to set up was Jon Hiseman's. His roadie let me into an early Colosseum gig for free on condition that I helped with the gear. A no brainer. From that first time I saw Hiseman play – right up close – I was impressed equally by his technique and his passion.

The Hiseman interview is by the excellent journalist Brent Keefe, also a drummer of course, and currently on tour with The Carpenters Show. When I met him recently, Brent recommended trying 'Drumhead' magazine, so I'm hoping that will be a worthy substitute for 'Drummer'.

Give Us A Break

The old joke about a drummer being someone who hangs around with musicians is not really that funny. And you'd think it would have been made obsolete by now, as a result of the remarkable musicianship of so many drummers in all fields of music.

But BBC online has just featured a report with the byline of business reporter Ed Butler that starts off: "The British musician and drummer Sudha Kheterpal..."

Is he insulting drummers deliberately? Or is he subconsciously or totally unknowingly simply revealing ignorance and prejudice?

For the record Sudha Kheterpal (who has played with Faithless, the Spice Girls and Kylie Minogue) has created a percussive device that also creates energy. Goodness! A successful drummer... and she has a brain! Whatever next?

Back To Baker

The recent post on Ginger Baker had so many views that I'm offloading a bit more of my debt to (and blame on) the man...

“Am I to blame if people try to emulate my life and die?” That’s Ginger Baker’s quote. Of course.

I’ve certainly tried, Ginger. And it certainly feels as if it's come close to killing me. 

But it’s been worth it. For the odd flash when the drums roll just as they’re supposed to. When they chase down the triplets on the lead guitar runs. When they kick in hard with the bass - or skip around it to beat it to the punch. And that’s mostly down to you, Ginger.

But at the end of the day, emulating you maybe, I seem to have lost far too many people along the way. And, less importantly, like you, I’ve lost more money than I care to try to count up. 

I shouldn’t have done it. But then we don’t have a choice in these things, do we? 

Are we to blame if you live your life as you’ve lived it and you die in pain and penury?

Don’t worry. There’s more than a few drummers right behind you.

Mr Baker

The real drummer seldom plays the minimum. He seeks to find how far he can go - not for himself but for the sake of the music. 

I got into this game because of Ginger Baker. October 1967. Ginger Baker. At the Saville Theatre, London. In front of the hippest crowd on the planet. With me there too. Ginger Baker. With Cream. Opening with Tales Of Brave Ulysses. Jack Bruce with a voice borrowed from heavy metal angels. Ginger Baker. And Eric Clapton in Hendrix fuzz and granny shades and playing guitar that was not of this earth. Ginger Baker. 

Ginger would tell me to fuck off if I were ever to get close to him. But he changed my life. Fucking Ginger Baker.

On Ginger’s website there’s a video of him playing We’re Going Wrong. When Cream played that song live, Jack Bruce’s vocals went to the limit. And sometimes Clapton’s guitar did the same. But Ginger Baker. Watch that video and you will see how far a drummer can go - for the song. Because he has to. That is real drumming.