Phew! After three studio sessions, my Moving Target solo percussion piece is finally recorded. It should come to a YouTube near you soon.
I couldn't have done it without the aid of sound maestro Simon "Dr Scardo" Scardanelli and his technical wizardry. We managed to stick to the basics of real drum kit, real percussion instruments and real human voice, but where it was appropriate, we did use effects that you can only get in the studio.
And that included a bit of cutting and pasting – to achieve parts that I could write but found exceedingly difficult to play in one take. Mainly because I deliberately set out to create a mathematical mix of 4/4 with 7/8 and 15/8 and 6/8...
It probably sounds rather grand to say that it was inspired by the music of Steve Reich (as well as Yannis Markopoulos, Public Image Ltd, trance music, Ringo Starr and heavy rock) but it kind of was…
And why Moving Target? Because of the time signature shifts… and also because that's the best way to survive… keep moving.
Showing posts with label simon scardanelli. Show all posts
Showing posts with label simon scardanelli. Show all posts
Wednesday, 25 November 2015
Saturday, 17 October 2015
In The Presence Of Greatness
Russ Payne broke up the Shark Dentists a while ago and formed a new band with a fluid line-up called the Unison Bends. That band has been gigging regularly through 2015 across the M4 delta, from London to Bristol, and is now taking a break until December.
But I've carried on drumming. There's a solo percussion project called Moving Target, which should be completed in November, recorded with the invaluable help of the great Dr Simon Scardanelli. And there's been a bit of sitting in...
I had the good fortune to play at a London street festival with some excellent jazz musicians, including Yosi Marshall on sax, Funky Johnny P on bass and Caroline Cooper on keys. And it was Caroline who said I should call in at a Monday-night jam session at the Halfway House in Barnes... a suggestion that led to the resumption of this blog.
The night I finally made it there, Caroline was on keys, alongside the house rhythm section and some horn players. An endless procession of singers took the stage for some great, old-fashioned swing and ballads.
In the break, the house drummer said I was welcome to sit in... and that there was another drummer in the place who would also play.
This proved to be something of an understatement. When the second half kicked off, there was a man sitting at the drums who had palpable style and panache – even before he touched the kit. And when he played, he played with tremendous skill, subtlety and passion. His brush work was sublime and made me feel like I shouldn't be there. On a ballad, in which one over-ambitious singer began to lose the musical plot, the drummer held everything together and rescued singer and band from disaster.
"Do you want to go on next?" the house drummer asked me. "Yes," I lied. How on earth did I follow this guy?
It's ok, I told myself, just stay within your limits... it'll be a ballad or swing... you're not a jazz drummer, but you can do those.
Then as I settled behind the kit, the singer helpfully told us: "The next one's a rumba."
Well, I improvised and survived, and got away with it. And the next one after that was a welcome uptempo swing number.
It was only later that I discovered the identity of the master drummer who had excited and scared me in equal measures.
Like a real gentleman, he came over to me after the second set, introduced himself and said he'd like to talk. He was Brian Walkley, a veteran from the 1960s, who has played with everyone from Long John Baldry, Elton John and Keith Emerson to Sonny Boy Williamson, T-Bone Walker and Stevie Wonder.
Like all good drummers, he had a fund of anecdotes – like the night he was driving Ginger Baker home... but Ginger couldn't actually remember where home was.
If you are anywhere near the Halfway House, go there on a Monday night. It's great entertainment. And if Brian is playing, it will also be a great education in the art of the drummer.
But I've carried on drumming. There's a solo percussion project called Moving Target, which should be completed in November, recorded with the invaluable help of the great Dr Simon Scardanelli. And there's been a bit of sitting in...
I had the good fortune to play at a London street festival with some excellent jazz musicians, including Yosi Marshall on sax, Funky Johnny P on bass and Caroline Cooper on keys. And it was Caroline who said I should call in at a Monday-night jam session at the Halfway House in Barnes... a suggestion that led to the resumption of this blog.
The night I finally made it there, Caroline was on keys, alongside the house rhythm section and some horn players. An endless procession of singers took the stage for some great, old-fashioned swing and ballads.
In the break, the house drummer said I was welcome to sit in... and that there was another drummer in the place who would also play.
This proved to be something of an understatement. When the second half kicked off, there was a man sitting at the drums who had palpable style and panache – even before he touched the kit. And when he played, he played with tremendous skill, subtlety and passion. His brush work was sublime and made me feel like I shouldn't be there. On a ballad, in which one over-ambitious singer began to lose the musical plot, the drummer held everything together and rescued singer and band from disaster.
"Do you want to go on next?" the house drummer asked me. "Yes," I lied. How on earth did I follow this guy?
It's ok, I told myself, just stay within your limits... it'll be a ballad or swing... you're not a jazz drummer, but you can do those.
Then as I settled behind the kit, the singer helpfully told us: "The next one's a rumba."
Well, I improvised and survived, and got away with it. And the next one after that was a welcome uptempo swing number.
It was only later that I discovered the identity of the master drummer who had excited and scared me in equal measures.
Like a real gentleman, he came over to me after the second set, introduced himself and said he'd like to talk. He was Brian Walkley, a veteran from the 1960s, who has played with everyone from Long John Baldry, Elton John and Keith Emerson to Sonny Boy Williamson, T-Bone Walker and Stevie Wonder.
Like all good drummers, he had a fund of anecdotes – like the night he was driving Ginger Baker home... but Ginger couldn't actually remember where home was.
If you are anywhere near the Halfway House, go there on a Monday night. It's great entertainment. And if Brian is playing, it will also be a great education in the art of the drummer.
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