African Independence

You only have to go into a decent music store to realise that there is a huge number of drumming instruction books. They're nearly all fascinating but few are truly exciting.

The best I've found in a long while is 'West African Rhythms for Drumset' by Royal Hartigan.

It's not only crammed with exercises that will stretch all four limbs to produce some amazing music, but it's also clearly, intelligently and lovingly written, with detailed explanation of the roots of the rhythms, and wonderful photographs of African players.

And if you're a drummer interested in improving their independence (for non-drummers, that means playing different patterns with each hand and foot), it offers some serious challenges.

Nothing else to say really, except buy it.

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.

Back On The Beat

I've been away for a year or so... I'm back. I hadn't stopped writing and I hadn't stopped playing. But I had stopped blogging. Why start again? Because a few days ago I encountered a drummer who played like a dream... and then I had to follow him on stage... and I wanted to write about what happened... So I will...

Love Over Gold

I've been away... for a long time... I'm back. And I'm still playing drums. In fact, thanks to the musicians I play with, I suspect that I'm generally drumming my best so far.

I'm lucky too to have the trusty DW kit which has now many times over repaid the major investment that it represented. No, I'm not going to say how much it cost...

Some drummers are not so reticent about mentioning the value of their gear.

Mick Fleetwood (above) - a seriously under-rated drummer who has always been a master timekeeper and band-driver - also plays DW drums. But they sound as though they are a tad more expensive than mine.

"All of my drum kits are coated in 18-carat gold," he explained in a recent interview. And he has a new kit made up by DW every time he tours. The end result, apparently, is a warehouse full of gold-plated drums and stands.

Much as I love Fleetwood's playing, I find it difficult to get my head round the need for such excess.

Why so many kits? And why the gold?

One perfect Collector's Series DW kit is enough for a lifetime, I reckon. 

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Barb Dylan

Sadly, I didn't get to see Bob Dylan on his latest visit to the UK. By all accounts, he played a memorable three nights at the Albert Hall...

But a woman called Barb Jungr more than made up for my disappointment when I saw her singing her all-Dylan show – not so much a tribute act, but more an extended love letter to, from and about the great and mysterious Bob.

I have never heard anyone get so deep into the music of Dylan as Jungr did. And her passionate interpretations of the master's classics, as well as a few lesser known works, had me in tears more than once during the evening.

I confessed this to Jungr after the show, and she took my hand, as if to say: "Yes, it's powerful stuff... it's ok to cry."

In performing Dylan, she seems transported into that place where a singer performs at their utmost intensity. If you ever have a chance to see this show, don't miss it...

Ears Wide Open

I've been away... I'm back...

I thought I knew how to listen to music. It's something that I've been doing all my life, it seems.

And I suppose if the truth be told, a lot of the music that I've listened to 'live' has been on the loud side. And occasionally much too loud.

An effect of that has been finding some music much too quiet.

That was how I felt at a concert of early sacred music by the BBC Singers at St Paul's, Knightsbridge, a few nights ago.

The music – including pieces by Cornysh, Taverner, Horwood, Lamb and Wylkynson – was superb but I just wanted to turn up the volume to get the full effect.

Maybe years of listening to heavy blues and rock had taken its toll, and I was starting to lose my hearing, I thought.

In the interval I mentioned this to the person sitting next to me, and she explained the simple solution: "Listen with your eyes closed."

For the second half of the concert, I did just that. And she was right. The effect was remarkable. And the music pierced my heart and soul – as well as my ears.

Christ, You Know It Ain’t Easy

The main band I play with – Russ Payne and the Shark Dentists - is fortunate. It’s been busy gigging regularly all this year and already has bookings scattered right through 2014. And yet we are still caught in the round of calling the people who book bands and begging them for work.

With a few exceptions, the people who book bands seem incapable of giving straight answers, incapable of calling back when they say they will, incapable of intelligible speech when they do call back, and often capable of double-booking you with someone else or forgetting to put dates in their diary.

When too many of these things happen at once, you begin to question why you are bothering. At these times, the lure of concentrating on recordings and videos rather than live performance becomes extremely attractive.

And we’re among the lucky ones. Goodness knows how many bands must have given up, beaten down by the seeming impossibility of getting a gig.