Where there's a "Papa," there must be some children, an d for Jo Jones those "children" are all of the drummers who have played jazz during the last half-century . Sinc e his days

Where there's a "Papa," there must be some children, and for JoJones those "children" are all of the drummers who have playedjazz during the last half-century. Since his days in Kansas City withCount Basie in the '30s, Papa Jo has been defining the role of themodern jazz drummer. Here, we offer a unique portrait of a veryunique man.by Chip Stern

Slim Jim, the visual and energetic drummer for the Stray Cats,discusses the band's rapid rise to success as a rockabilly band of the1980s. In this article, Phantom explains how his technique andsetup contribute to the Stray Cats' distinctive sound as well as theirimage.by Robert Santelli

With Hal Blaine, Vinnie Colaiuta, Jim Keltner, Craig Krampf,Shelly Manne, Rick Marotta and Jeff Porcaro.by Robyn Flans

DRUMMERS AND INCOME TAXby Rick Van Horn

Although he is best known as the drummer for Tavares, JackieSantos performs with musicians of various genres, such as the solovocalist Armstead Christian and the jazz group, The Steve SoaresQuartet. This versatile musician discusses the challenges involvedin being the drummer for a group of five singers, as well as his earlyinfluences and plans for the future.by Scott K. Fish

EDUCATION

by Roy Burns

ROCK PERSPECTIVES

by Michael Bettine

TEACHER'S FORUM

by John Bock

SHOW AND STUDIO

by Jerry Bogner

DRUM SOLOIST

by Dan Hull

ROCK 'N' JAZZ CLINIC

Odd Time Part 1by Rod Morgenstein

TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS

by Scott K. Fish

EQUIPMENT

by Rick Van Horn

COMPLETE PERCUSSIONIST

by David Samuels

JUST DRUMS

NEWS

INDUSTRY HAPPENINGS

PORTRAITS

Ignacio Berroa and Daniel Ponceby Leslie Gourse

UP AND COMING

by Rick Mattingly

DEPARTMENTSEDITOR'S OVERVIEWREADER'S PLATFORMASK A PRODRUM MARKETIT'S QUESTIONABLE

PROFILES

Cover Photos—Jo Jones by Raymond RossJim Phantom by Robert Santelli

8

14

18

24

26

78

94

50

80

104

100

30

32

34

36

68

102

56

57

86

246

9698

FEATURESPAPA JO JONES

SLIM JIM PHANTOM

L.A. STUDIO DRUMMERS ROUNDTABLE

JACKIE SANTOS

COLUMNS

CONCEPTSPracticing With Records

Style and Analysis: U2's Larry Mullen

Teaching Roll Pulsations

The Cruise-Ship Drummer

Jo Jones: "Love For Sale"

An Approach For Playing In

Creativity vs. Business

SHOP TALKInternational Percussion

Miking For Mallet Instruments

UPDATEby Robyn Flans

Abbey Raderby Scott K. Fish

Lee Crystal

Photo

by T

om C

opi

Photo

by P

aula S

taro

n

Photo

by L

inda

Matlow/P

ix

Focu

s Ph

otog

raph

y

VOL. 8, NO. 1

I often receive inquiries regarding the publication of articles in MD columndepartments. Readers sometimes notice a statement which we print in eachissue saying that we welcome manuscripts, and they feel that they haveideas which would be suitable for publication. Often these individualswrite to us for further information on exactly what we're looking for, theprocedure involved, whether or not their manuscripts are actually read,and if accepted, how long it will be before the material will appear in print.

Before you venture to write anything for Modern Drummer, you mightwant to ask yourself a few basic questions: Will this article help a substan-tial group of drummers improve some aspect of their ability as players, orenlighten them on a particular approach to the instrument? Will the articlesave the readers time, money or effort? Will it help them arrive at deci-sions, draw conclusions, or do their jobs better? These are some of the fac-tors the editors consider when they evaluate an unsolicited manuscript.

There are a few things you can do to stack the odds in your favor. Ar-ranging the subject matter in a logical sequence, clarity in phrases and sen-tences, accuracy, staying with the subject matter, making a valid point,and submitting typewritten, double-spaced copy are a few of them. And ifmusical examples or artwork are used, they should be submitted on sepa-rate sheets of paper.

What happens to your material once you send it to us? Every manuscriptis initially screened by one of MD's editors. If it does not meet with at leastone of the basic requirements listed above, it's returned to the author. Anarticle may also be rejected if the subject matter is too basic, or too com-plex, if we've previously dealt with the subject in depth, or if we alreadyhave something similar in our files.

Many articles fall between the cracks. They are not exactly what we arelooking for when they arrive, but they are close enough for us to workwith. Minor changes are handled by our editorial staff. If the article needsmore extensive changes, we discuss it with the author, who is then offeredthe opportunity to re-work the material.

Naturally, we receive a number of articles that are right on target. Whenthis occurs, the author is notified of acceptance by mail, the article's titleand author's name are logged into our editorial computer, and the manu-script is filed in an individual departmental bin.

The time between acceptance and publication may vary from a fewmonths to a year. Why so long? Well, your article may be slotted for a de-partment with a considerable backlog of material, or a department whichonly appears every third or fourth issue. We might also hold up your mate-rial so that it can be tied in with an upcoming feature story. Hopefully, thisexplains why we cannot give an author a precise publication date when weaccept the article.

Once your article is up for publication, it's pulled from the file and workcommences. An editor is assigned to your article, our Art Director pre-pares a layout, and several other editors further refine and proofread yourmaterial at various key points in the production process.

As you can see, there's a lot involved in getting an article into MD, but Idon't mean to discourage anyone. We recognize that many of our readersare professional drummers and teachers, and therefore have knowledgethat they might be able to share through an MD column. If you genuinelyfeel that you have something to offer, you might begin by wri t ing to us andrequesting our Writer's Guidelines, which will give you more detailed in-formation regarding stylistic requirements and payment. Perhaps somedayyou will experience the satisfaction and pride that comes with seeing yourwork published in Modern Drummer

STAFF:EDITOR/PUBLISHER

Ronald SpagnardiFEATURES EDITOR

Rick Mat t ing lyMANAGING EDITOR

Rick Van HornASSOCIATE EDITORS

Susan HannumMark Hurley

ART DIRECTORDavid Creamer

ADVERTISING DIRECTORKevin W. Kearns

ASSOCIATE PUBLISHERIsabel Spagnardi

ADMINISTRATIVE MANAGERAnn Thompson

ASSISTANT ADMINISTRATIVEMANAGEREllen Urry

DEALER SERVICE MANAGERJanet Gola

CIRCULATIONLeo L. SpagnardiRobin De Paul

Lori-Jean SyintsakosSALES PROMOTION MANAGER

Evelyn Urry

The MD Readeras Writer

MD ADVISORY BOARDHenry Adler, Carmine Appice, Louie Bellson,Bill Bruford, Roy Burns, Jim Chapin, BillyCobham, Les DeMerle, Len DiMuzio, CharlieDonnelly, Saul Goodman, Danny Gottlieb,Sonny Igoe, Jaimoe Johanson, Jim Keltner,Don Lamond, Mel Lewis, Peter Magadini,George Marsh, Butch Miles, Joe Morello, NeilPeart, Charlie Perry, Charli Persip, ArthurPress, Paul T. Riddle, Ed Shaughnessy, EdThigpen, Max Weinberg.

CONTRIBUTING WRITERSSusan Alexander, Charles M. Bernstein, ScottK. Fish, Robyn Flans, Simon Goodwin, StanleyHall, Dave Levine, Robert Santelli , BobSaydlowski, Jr., Chip Stern, Robin Tolleson, T.Bruce Wittet .

MODERN DRUMMER Magazine (ISSN 0194-4533) is published monthly by Modern Drum-mer Publications, Inc., 1000 Clifton Avenue,Clifton, N.J. 07013. Second Class Postage paidat Clifton, N. J. 07015 and at additional mailingoffices. Copyrighted 1984 by Modern DrummerPublications, Inc. All rights reserved. Repro-duction without the permission of the publisheris prohibited. SUBSCRIPTIONS: $21.95 peryear, $39.95, two years. Single copies $2.25.MANUSCRIPTS: Modern Drummer welcomesmanuscripts, however, cannot assume responsi-bility for them. Manuscripts must be accompa-nied by a self-addressed stamped envelope.CHANGE OF ADDRESS: Allow at least sixweeks for a change. Please provide both old andnew address. MUSIC DEALERS: ModernDrummer is available for resale at bulk rates.Direct correspondence to Modern DrummerPublications, Inc., 1000 Clifton Avenue, Clif-ton, N.J. 07013. (201) 778-1700. POSTMAS-TER: Send Address Changes to Modern Drum-mer, 1000 Clifton Avenue, Clifton, N.J. 07013.

M'BOOM AND GULLUTTIBravo on an excellent article on M'Boom.Max and the others must truly be excitingto see live. I hope they will begin touring,so we can all see this percussion historyhappening. It was also great to see the in-terview with Boston drummer Bob Gul-lu t t i . I've seen him two times live; once inconcert with the Tim Birne Group in Wor-chester, MA, and at a club here in Hart-ford, CT, with Jerry Begonzi. He's totallyincredible to watch and hear, and now withthis very intelligent and thought-provok-ing interview, I can understand more ofwhat I saw. Keep it up!

Tom MarksHart ford, CT

ALEX VAN HALENCompliments to Robyn Flans on the fan-tastic article on Alex Van Halen. I'm soglad Alex is finally getting recognition forbeing the great drummer that he is. The ar-ticle was one of the year's best. It was notonly interesting; it was also knowledge-able. It's about time people realized thatAlex is as good a drummer as his brother,Edward, is a guitar player, and we all knowEdward is the best. I'm glad you sharedwith us the other half of the Van Halenname. We all appreciated the cover storyon Alex and the recognition he so just lydeserves.

Jay BaronSanta Monica, CA

It is very disgusting for MD to print thestatement Alex Van Halen made aboutMartha and The Vandellas. Van Halenshould be the grateful one. I'd assume MDhad more professional standards in whatthey print. Also, why so much "rock"?Rock drummers are not the only peoplewho read this magazine. "Rock 'N' JazzClinic," "Rock Perspectives," and "RockCharts"—why are these columns labeledlike this? Plus you put these columns underEDUCATION. Please give other drum-mers a break. Get rid of the labels and in-clude all forms of drumming. When youstart labeling, you're always going to leavesomebody out.

Stanley C. Swann I I ISan Antonio, TX

ERIC CARRI would just like to say that Michael Ep-stein's article on Eric Carr was great. It'snice to see great rock drummers givencredit for their abilities. Thanks for print-ing an article on one of the best drummersin rock today.

Mike SmithNorth Kingston, Rl

MURPHY VS. GROMBACHERThis letter is in response to a letter wri t tenby Ralph Murphy, Jr. I'd like to know whoyou think you are by putting down otherdrummers? Your comment on MyronGrombacher was utterly tasteless; appar-ently he had what it took to break into therecord business. Do you? Apparently not\Who in the music industry would want toput up wi th your kind of attitude?

Just remember: everyone has somethingto offer; and the next time you want to crit-icize someone's musical ability, keep it toyourself.

Tony MiglioreMichigan City, IN

I am writing in response to comments writ-ten about Myron Grombacher, 14-year-olds, and your magazine. Myron Gromba-cher is a fine musician at playing rock 'n'roll. And if the person who made thosecomments was any kind of musician, hewould open his closed mind, and give anyother musician the respect he or she de-serves in his or her particular style of mu-sic. I've heard J.C. Heard playing. He's afine musician in his particular style too!

Fourteen-year-olds are musicians andpeople too. Just because they're youngdoesn't mean they can't play. They prac-tice and study like anyone else. ModernDrummer doesn't go after any certain agegroup. They write for the drummers, per-cussionists and musicians as a whole.Therefore, Myron Grombacher, 14-year-old drummers and MD all deserve an apol-ogy.

Troy JonesColumbus, OH

Mr. Murphy sounds like he has a personaldislike for Myron Grombacher. That'sfine. Everyone has a personal dislike nowand then. But as far as your article on Mr.Grombacher, I feel it was something longoverdue. It was also well put together andvery informative.

Mr. Murphy stated that Grombacherwas a non-musician and a hyperactivesounding machine, who can't tune his owndrums.

In return to these blind statements, I'dl ike to say I've listened to Grombacher'srecorded work and seen him play live acouple of times. His speed and timing are abig part of the driving force behind Bena-tar's sound.

Your article was not directed to 14-year-olds as suggested by Mr. Murphy. I am awoman who is a drummer at age 25, andMyron Grombacher has been most inspi-rational to me in music. Grombacher is notonly a fine musician, but he is also a greatentertainer.

One last thing—when you make the kindof money Grombacher makes, you don'tneed to tune your own drums. I'm sure theman paid his dues to get where he is at.Thank you MD for wri t ing about him.

Splash WarmingVista, CA

SAM ULANO AND RUDIMENTSIn the October 1983 issue, there was a letterfrom a Mr. Sam Ulano in the Reader'sPlatform section of MD. I found some ofMr. Ulano's statements about the rudi-ments disturbing, especially his statementsaying that the rudiments were outdated,and only served to tie the drummer downto hours of slavery in practicing them.First of all, there is one point I agree withand think is correct: Rudiments are notscales. But rudiments are tools! Like in anyprofession, choosing the right tools andlearning how to use them correctly willmake getting the job done easier. Being adrummer, I would be lost—both rhythmi-cally and musically—if I did not know howto execute a flam or a single-stroke roll.Rudiments, like all fundamental skills,have their purpose: to help one develop thetechnique for the fu l l potential of one's tal-ent. I don't think that the rudiments tie medown from expressing myself musically.Indeed, with the background knowledgethe rudiments have provided, I believe Ican express myself more creatively.

James RauSeal Beach, CA

Sam Ulano's letter pertaining to rudimen-tal drumming left me quite perplexed. Tobegin with, I'm aware that many drum-mers his age had rudiments thrust uponthem as the only way to learn drums, butthis is 1983 and there are as many differentways to approach music as there are musi-cians. The freedom of choice is somethingthat is taught by most decent teachers.Surely Sam must admit that drums havecome a long way since 1936.

I have spent a number of years in drumand bugle corps in California, the lastthree in a drum line that won nationalchampionship in '78 and '79. I played be-cause I love playing drums, and drumcorps was a great place to do just that. I'veplayed with really great players and somenot so great, some with good time, somenot as good. Isn' t that the same as any-thing else in life? We're all individuals.What I would really like to say is that afterthree years out of corps, I am still in lovewith rudimental drumming. I love the dif-ferent textures it creates, the instrumentalfreedom it provides and all the grace and

BILLY COBHAM

BILL BRUFORD

Q. What is the unique metal tappingsound you use with your left foot in-stead of a hi-hat? Is it electronic oracoustic with a mic'?

David di RisioWilkes Barre, PA

A. The metal tapping sound is one ofmany, infinitely variable sounds avail-able from what is nominally known asthe Simmons "Hi-Hat." It is, indeed,electronic.

NEIL PEART

Q. What kind of shells do you use?What is meant by a custom finish?What is the reason for having shells

RAYFORD GRIFFIN

Q. I was really impressed with yourplaying on Jean Luc Ponty's albumMystical Adventure, as well as yoursound. What kind of drum heads andcymbals do you use, what make ofdrums and how do you tune? Alsowhen I saw you playing at the JazzFestival at Montreal, you were usingyour left hand on the hi-hat and on theride. How and why did you developthis?

Tremblay BenoitQuebec, Canada

A. The hi-hats are 14" Paiste and allthe rest are Zildjians, which include aRock 21 ride, a 16" and 17" mediumcrash, an 18" Rock crash and a 22"swish. All my drums are Jama rangingfrom 12", 13", 14", 15", and 18" toms,a 22" and a 24" bass drum and a RadioKing snare that Paul Jamieson hasdone some work on. The heads are allRemo Pinstripes on top and clear Am-bassadors on the bottom, with thebottom head tuned slightly higherthan the top. The heads were slightlymuffled with gaffer's tape and tissue.

Actually the left-hand thing devel-oped itself. The first time I sat downbehind a set of drums, my left handcrossed my right to get to the ridecymbal set up on my right. It seemedmost natural for a left-handed personto ride with the left hand, to me. I neversaw a reason to change this. Therewas no development per se. It's practi-cal because it avoids arm crossing.coated with Vibra-Fibing treatment,and what is the reason for brass-plated hardware? What color wouldyou recommend for a drumset?

Mike PfisterMilwaukee, Wl

A. Well! The drums that I am currentlyusing are a special, thinner shellwhich Jama has developed called Art-star. I have found that the thinnershells really resonate beautifully. Acustom finish could be anything fromvarnish to lizard skin. I once did a cus-tom finish with wallpaper. With these

PAUL JAMIESONQ. I'm thinking about going from a 12-strand snare to a 42-strand snare,looking for a brighter tone to cutthrough a loud band. Will this work?

Nicholas LachagaNeedles, CA

A. Putting more metal down on thehead will thicken the sound, making itfatter. Whether it will cut depends onhow you tune it—loose or tight. Forexample, for the beefy sound on thenew Journey single, Steve Smith is us-ing a 42-strand snare. That cuts. It de-pends on what you like. Jeff Porcaroand Michael Walden like 16- and 18-strand snares, and they sound prettygood.

PETER ERSKINE

Q. What ride cymbal did you use onthe Steps Ahead album, particularlyon the song "Loxodrome"?

Brian SzczerbowskiHammond, IN

A. I used the same ride cymbalthroughout the album—a 20" K. Zild-jian ride. It's not the jazz ride; just theregular ride, which is sort of a light-medium. The great thing about thatparticular cymbal is that, whether I'mplaying real hard on it or very soft,there's definition throughout the en-tire dynamic range. The cymbal is nottoo thick or too thin, so it's free to vi-brate and generate those nice Zildjianovertones without building up toomuch. Also, that cymbal works well ina variety of settings—both acousticand electric; small groups and large.drums, it s simply a paint job and inCandy Apple Red, no less! The Vibra-Fibing on the inside of the shells is avery subtle thing. It consists of a verythin layer of fiberglass, which doesn'tchange the natural warmth and tonal-ity of the wood. It just seems to evenout the inconsistencies and, thus, theconflicting overtones are minimized. Ithink it results in a purer tone. The rea-son for brass-plated hardware is that Ilike the way it looks! As regards the

matters.color, it's what looks good to you that

Q. How can I develop the concept ofplaying rudiments around the drum-set?

Michael BanksNew Orleans, LA

A. You can use your imagination.Take, for instance, a paradiddle.Break it up between your snare drumand your smallest tom-tom and play itequally between the two, alternatinghands of course. Then you can extendit, play it between the other two toms,and use every possible combinationavailable to you.

Pho

to b

y Mar

ko P

esikan

Pho

to b

y Ja

eger

Kotos

Pho

to b

y Liss

a W

ales

Pho

to b

y Rick

Mattin

gly

Pho

to b

y To

m C

opi

by Chip Stern

"I don't waste time," Papa Jo says, the words snapping upside my head

like a malevolent rimshot, the eyes bugging out and his voice becom-ing as hard and sharp as flint. "Time is too precious. Sheeeeeetttt. I've

never wasted time in my life for one day. In my whole life I do not waste time. I'mtoo busy. I've put too much out here. I didn't hold nothing back. I sleep with mydoor open, me and my Bible. I never done nothin' to nobody in my life. I neverbeen to jail. Only smart people go to jail. I'm too ignorant. I keep time with thedrums. I don't have no damn clock. See, there are three things that'll drive you upthe wall: a clock, a watch and a calendar. Goddamnnnnn! What time is it? Whattime is it? What time is it? What difference does it make? It's the same day it waslast year."

I try to direct the flow of Papa Jo's stream of consciousness, but that's amistake, and only succeeds in bringing him up to full froth. "There you go Chip,anticipating. I'm going to tell you one more time: Don't anticipate me, becauseyou don't know one damn thing about me. Don't play games with me. I'm nocomedian—I take my life seriously. Put another man up against the wall with me.He can't match me—he ain't shit. No drummer ever had what I had—my coordi-nation, my reflexes, my background. Nobody can say a word about me in thewhole world I've traveled. Places I've wanted to go, I went. Places I didn't, Iwouldn't and nobody could make me. I've played with everybody I wanted toplay with—thems I didn't, I wouldn't." His mood softens for a second and hebecomes reflective. "Man, I've had some grand times, some grand times with allthe peoples I've met."

Yes siree, Pops. Jonathan David Samuel Jones is up 'n' at 'em again, andthat's cause for celebration among drummers of all generations, because at 73,Jo Jones has forgotten more than most of us will ever know about the drums. Heis Old Man River, Father Time, the benchmark against which all other drummersmust be judged. He is coarse; he is elegant. He is as cold-blooded as they come,and as warm and considerate as anyone you'll ever meet. He is a web of contra-dict ions, yet as consistent as the morning sunrise. "I don't lie," he insists. "I onlylied twice in my life. First time was to my mother. She said, 'Son, you don't haveto lie to me.' Now I'm living a lie."

What does he mean by that? Good question, and like so many others onewould pose to Jo Jones, answers aren't readily forthcoming. Papa Jo exists onthe level of folklore, myth and parable; the cracker-barrel philosopher; teller oftall tales; venerable keeper of our oral traditions. An irrascible old salt of a man:"The type of fellow you'd be seriously worried about if he wasn 't being salty," asone young drummer explained to his girlfriend at a recent tribute to Papa Jo.And sure enough, like the first blossoms of spring, nothing is more hopeful a signthan the fact that Papa Jo is fussin' and cussin', spittin' brimstone, kickin ' assand taking names. Not for nothing were his most recent performing ensemblesdubbed Jo Jones & Enemies. "I think it's cute the way he yells at all his musi-cians," my daughter Jennifer giggled during one of his sets at Manhattan's WestEnd Cafe. "I guess the musicians don't think it's too cute, but I think he'sfunny."

"When I say someone ain't shit," Papa Jo asserts, "I know who is chickensalad, and who is chicken shit. Musicians spend too much time reading their writeups and playing their records. Maybe they should try playing their write ups andreading their records," he adds, chuckling at one of his favorite jokes. "You cansee it in their attitudes up on the bandstand. You see, music is my mistress—that'swhat controls me. I never put nobody living or dead in front of my music. I haveto play to keep alive. I have to. I don't know about nobody else—they're afraid tolive but they're not afraid to die. Unn uhh . . . they're going to have to come toget me."

It's good to hear Jo talking like that again, especially after the harrowingevents of 1983, when he faced off death once again. As Jo recalls his first brushwith death in the late '70s: "My two best friends died. First Frank Ippolito [of theProfessional Percussion Center], then Milt Buckner [the great pianist and organ-ist, and Jo's musical partner through much of the '60s and '70s], and off of thosenegative emotions I got cancer.'' But he licked it , or so it seemed when he made awalk-on appearance at a Dizzy Gillespie Dreamband concert, and amazinglyenough began playing again at the West End in 1981. It's difficult to convey theintensity of those appearances; to fully depict the power and grace of his drum-ming, the sheer courage and will of the man. "I can't make any fast moves," heconfessed, "only slow moves," but when he sat behind his drums, you could feelhis mastery, while experiencing Jo's long-lost world of sand dancers, magicians,slapstick comedians, chorus girls, blues singers and nomadic musical gladiators.One marveled at his heroic fanfares on "Caravan," as he bore witness to every-thing he'd lived, and everything he hoped to live. Up there on that bandstand,Papa Jo looked 30 years younger and as benign as Father Time.

Yet Jo Jones could barely walk off the stand. Hissteps were slow and halting, his knees would notbend, and he had to be helped to his seat. More tell-ing was the readily perceptible shaking on his leftside, the ever present hint of pain. You could askanyone who was there—no one could understandhow he had played at all, let alone how he had playedso commandingly. Jo Jones was drawing upon somesort of extraordinary spiritual reserve, but with eachsucceeding gig you could feel the clock runningdown. How long could it last?

When Jo Jones returned from seeing his doctorsin France this past February, he was tired, broke,and alone. A 1982 fire in his apartment had de-stroyed most of his prized possessions and momen-tos. "I'm through with the drums," he insisted."Who'm I gonna play with? They all dead. Thereain't gonna be another Walter Page. There ain'tgonna be another Lester Young. There ain't gonnabe another Milt Buckner. You'll never hear musiclike that again. It 's gone."

But what was really gone? "I'm over here," herevealed, "but people that slept in my bed, ate myfood—steaks, chops and chicken—spent mymoney . . . wore my clothes, used my drums, myeverything, don't even call up to see how I'm feeling.That's okay," he sighed, "I'll meet them in heaven.Oh well." But never a word about the pain—tooold, too proud, too tough, and sometimes, toomuch. To know Jo Jones you have to pay your dues.

"Have you ever heard that expression, 'Who haveseen the wind, neither you nor I'?" Jo asked me. Idrew a blank. "No, Chip," Jo smiled, "you don'tknow what I mean—you ain't never done that kindof living in your life."

This attitude, in part, should give a clue as to whatsets Jo Jones apart from the trap players we're usedto reading about in these pages, and some sense ofwhat it is that animates Jo Jones. The same contradic-tions that make up Jo Jones the man are part and par-cel of what makes for Jo Jones the drum stylist. Nottechnical considerations; not the brand of equipmenthe plays. A lot of living. "You see, I'm playing peoplethat I've met, places that I've been, things that I'veseen. I'm playing expressions, slang, and you don'teven know what I'm saying. You don't know whatwe playin'. How could you? You had to be there. Idon't know about all that technical shit. First time Imet Mr. Ellington I went to one of his rehearsals,and I heard him say to the band 'Tutti Frutti . ' I wentto the drug store and got me a pint of tu t t i f ru t t i icecream. Ha. I didn't know what he was saying. Ididn't know nothin' about them I-Talian expres-sions."

But for drummers the world over, Jo Jones'trademark is more than beats, rhythms and insider'scode words. It is a sound—the man who plays likethe wind. While other great drummers of the '20sand '30s were painting pictures of fire and earth, JoJones depicted light and sky. Going beyond the tick-tick-tick of a clock, he discovered the space betweenthe beats where time is not so much counted as felt,as epitomized by his flowing hi-hat pulse—a grace-ful, witty choreography of time, motion, dynamicsand color that could cushion or cajole a soloist; eachaccent, pause and nonsequitur mirrored in his infec-tious smile and elegant body language. "People arealways looking to connect me with other drum-mers," he told me years ago. "I've listened to all thedrummers, but [Charlie] Chaplin was an influence

on me," he concluded with a regal t i l t of his eyebrows.Even more remarkable is his distinctive sense of touch and nu-

ance, which owes more to a dancer's steps than to any primal, arm-flailing display of force. His soloing and accompaniment have al-ways been cyclical, thematic and as melodic as any song. "Youknow why," Jo explains, "because when you play in all those terri-torial bands, they might call on you to sing tonight, and me to singtomorrow. All I play is melody. Years ago, when you got on ashow, they would advertise, 'The Drum-mer: He can sing; he can dance.' Thedrummer could sit with the megaphoneand be the vocalist—I was the first one tosing 'All Of Me' on the radio. But youhad to know the words. They wouldn'tlet you play on no songs where you didn'tknow the words."

In short, Jo Jones grew up not merelyas a drummer, but as an all-around enter-tainer, back in an era when radio and rec-ords were new innovations, just begin-ning to take hold. He brought these expe-riences to Kansas City in the '30s, at atime when that town was a wide openparty-town fu l l of nightclubs, gamblingdens, bordellos and all-night jam ses-sions; a creative cauldron of swing anddance beats. When he performed with pianist Count Basie, bassistWalter Page, and guitarist Freddie Greene, Jo Jones was the per-cussive force behind the All-American Rhythm Section; a sound sosubtle and insinuating that it's entered the collective subconscious

"THE DRUM IS ALWAYS THEKEY. THERE IS NO

INSTRUMENT BESIDES THEHUMAN VOICE THAT HAS THECAPACITY TO ENCOMPASSTHE WHOLE PART OF THE

HUMAN BEING BUT THEDRUM."-Jo Jones

of every contemporary rhythm player, whetherthey're aware of it or not. To be sure, it's almostimpossible to play piano, bass, guitar or drums

' without referring to some of their individual orcollective innovations.

"If I explained it once, I've explained it a thou-sand times, and people still don't get the mes-sage," Jo said with palpable irritation. "BeforeBasie you had a horn section, and you had a brasssection, but there'd never been a rhythm section,see. Cats used to go off North, South, East andWest, but we went one way. When Freddie Greenejoined us, Walter Page asked him, 'Where you go-ing? It don't go like that—it goes this way. Oneway.' There's never been a bassist like Mr. WalterPage. He could make any pianist go his way; justpull him along. He used to play with his back toBasie. Years later we did something with Mr.Teddy Wilson and he told me, 'I see what youmean.' And Basie wasn't back there pounding.Unn uhh. You had to really put your antennae upto hear him. You had to work to listen. We neverdid play with the band—we played with eachother, spiritually and mentally—and even if every-one else was down, there was always one of us whocould hold it all together."

Never in American musical history did anyrhythm section create so much heat with so littlewasted motion—an effortless kind of cruise con-trol. Walter Page's bass was the trunk and FreddieGreene's brush-like strumming was the rustling ofthe leaves, as Basie skittered in and out of theirbeat in a cat and mouse exchange with Jones' un-derstated yet indomitable pulse. In air checks fromthe '30s, you can already hear Jones "droppingbombs," as it came to be known, moving beyondpure timekeeping into the realm of melodic freeassociation and off-beat syncopations. In his me-lodic dialogues with the great tenorist LesterYoung, you could hear the roots of bebop and

modern jazz in the making; and when he tore into a hip-grindingbreak with Young's spiritual brother (and stylistic opposite),tenorist Hershel Evans, you could hear the birth of modern R&Band rock 'n' roll in the making. Of course, Jo Jones and his fellowpioneers of American music never called it anything but their mu-sic—making a gift of it to an entire planet. "Blues music," PapaJo allows, "that's the only kind of music I know how to play. Andyou know, for all the pain and problems we endured being black

men in America," he reiterated, "we re-ally had some wonderful times. We ac-complished so much, and now it's all outhere for the little kiddies. It's their turnnow."

And so it seemed as if it were all over,and Jo Jones would never play again. Butsomething happened in the hospital thathelped Jo Jones find his will anew; a com-bination of pride, anger and love. Thedoctors and nurses had given up on PapaJo, but he wouldn't cop to the tremorspassing through his body. Somewheredeep down he was reaching for some-thing, and he found it in resentment forthe hospital, in the pride of knowing thathe was "Jo Jones, mister!" He alsofound it in the visits of old friends like

Sam Ulano and Max Roach; the outpouring of love at his SwingPlaza tribute; the support of people like Bill Cosby and GeorgeWein; and the comfort of knowing that all the people who wroteand called him through Jack DeJohnette's Modern Drummer ap-

Photo courtesy Manny's, NYC

peal were on his side, through thick andthin, and wanted him to hang around just alittle while longer. Papa Jo felt the love,and what other way was there for him toacknowledge it except to take a few morebows? Who knows what forces drive JoJones? No one can say with any certainty,but like a great prize fighter, he was onceagain in training to take back the crown;his limbs fleshing out and his tongue be-coming sharp and cutting. "I don't wantto know nothing about a drum or a womanuntil I'm 90," he's said, and perhaps, Isuggested, he was preparing to attain thatgoal. Jo eyed me once again for a straightman, in between bites of a Hershey Bar,slyly sneaking a glimpse at the drums andcymbals in the next room from his rockingchair perch.

"How'm I gonna play anything for any-body when I been dead for 20 years? Doyou believe in ghosts? If you didn't catchme during the '30s, you missed it. "

The old man had caught me flat-footedagain, and he relished the quizzical look onmy face. "Sounds like my cue to go," Ithought. "Take care and say your prayersyoung talent." Good night Papa Jo.

o Jones is a complex figure, to put itmildly. Many have been stung by hisacid tongue, but many more have

been helped by his guidance, generosityand advice, which he gives freely to anyonewho'll listen—whether they asked for it ornot. One long-time observer of the jazzscene recalled an incident at Birdland withsome merriment. "Miles Davis and PhillyJoe Jones were trying to sneak off thebandstand to avoid Jo, who had some sortof lesson he wanted to convey to them," hechuckled, "but they might just as wellhave been trying to avoid the Ancient

Mariner. They were just getting off, butJo was already there fussing—and he hadhis finger out."

Others recall how he took them underhis wing and looked out for them whenthey first came to New York. RonaldShannon Jackson told me that, "Jo hadheard me play and I had all this raggedyequipment. He made a point of takingme up to the Zildjian factory, not once,but twice, just to make sure that I hadsome good cymbals to play on. I don'tknow if he even remembers, but I suredo." Still others have been the beneficia-ries of gigs, introductions, musical sug-gestions and parables (the meaning ofwhich might only become clear years af-ter the fact). In a sense, Jo is simply try-ing to convey the kind of fatherly direc-tion and no-nonsense experience hereceived at the knees of his elders as ayoung man. That kind of environmentno longer exists for young players tryingto become musicians. "Experience isbased on mistakes," he concludes, "andI wish it was in my power to just reach inmy pocket and say 'here.' But it's impos-sible. Look at all the people I've rubbedelbows with. It took a whole lot of help-ing and hard knocks to make me what I am, and I myself am really hundreds of people—peoples that I've met. Where are kids today going to get the kind of apprenticeship I had,to play the kind of places I' ve been? They destroyed all the continuity from generation togeneration during World War II when they took away the dance floors. It's like trying togo from the sandlots to the major leagues. You've got to work your way up.

"Let me tell you about a special gentleman, Mr. Freddie Moore. When you hear Fred-die Moore, you're hearing drums, mister. It took me 30 years to be able to walk up to himand say hello. I saw him as a kid, but I wasn't in that league. I couldn't stay up that late atnight. I couldn't go where he went. But when we came to New York, he was next door tothe Woodside, and he was the most gracious man. When a strange musician came to NewYork, the first thing Freddie would say was, 'Have you eaten yet?' And he'd take you outto the kitchen and sit you down. Not to the bar; he didn't get you a drink. To the kitchen!'Where are you staying? Do you need any money?' They don't make those kinds of

Photo by Allison Perry

Art Blakey, Jo Jones and Elvin Jones at Gretsch Drum Night. Birdland, circa I960.

Pho

to b

y Cha

rles

Stewar

t

J

peoples anymore."Taking that story as a cue, it's clear that Papa Jo is trying, and always has

tried, to convey that kind of help to "young talent" on the way up, to easethe transistion and help them avoid pitfalls. A host of remarkable black menand women helped shape Jo Jones' character and talent back in the dayswhen virulent racism and ignorance denied African-Americans the chanceto strut their stuff. But they did anyway. Jo strains to convey and rememberthat time and those people. He remembers the oral tradition. He bears thelessons. He also bears the scars.

For Jonathan David Samuel Jones—born October 7, 1911 in Chicago,Illinois, to Samuel and Elizabeth Jones—there existed not only the burdenof racism's ugly cultural legacy, but the mark of an affliction which robbedhim of his youth, and which in a lesser man might very well have pre-emptedany sort of productive life, let alone a creative one. But Jo Jones fought backfrom a crippling accident with courage, grace and style.

"I was very young," Jo recalls. "I elected to try to copy one of my uncleslighting a cigar from a fire with a newspaper, and I had a terrific burn thatleft me an invalid for a year and a half. I had to crawl before I could walkagain, and they didn't know anything about burns at that particular time.They changed two doctors at the time, and I can remember my father bring-ing me silver dollars and laying them in the bed. He also brought me a uku-lele. I ' l l never forget that ukulele. I was burned from head to foot on myright side. It was very hazy for me coming out of my affliction and trying toget myself together. It took me unti l I was 16 or 17 years old to come out ofthis affliction."

Jo's father was a remarkable man, and for Samuel Jones and his family(including Jo's sister, Lillian), the nature of his work was such that theyfound themselves moving all over the country, living in many places. This ishow Jo eventually found himself in Alabama.

Jo's recollections of this period are somewhat hazy, but it was somewhere

around the time of his accident that he made his first realspiritual connection with music. "I had an aunt on mymother's side of the family who I always referred to asSister Mattie because she had a twin. She took me, at thetime of my convalescing, to hear the Ringling BrothersCircus. I must have been about five or six or seven yearsold. I heard—I felt—this bass drum. This was Mr. EmilHelmicke, the greatest bass drum player that ever lived.Later on he played with the Goldman band up in CentralPark, and he was the highest paid man in the band. Thelast time I saw him he was 86 years old, and I used toalways go to see him after the concerts—bring him somebeer, you know. I brought all the drummers up to hearhim. I brought Max Roach. I brought Art Blakey. Ibrought Joe Harris. Just playing the bass drum, he couldget eight different notes out of it. He was one of a kind. Iremember that bass drum hit my stomach and I neverrelinquished that feeling. That was my indoctrination tomusic. I couldn't keep still. My Aunt Mattie held me inher arms. That's when she bought me a snare drum."

In Birmingham, Alabama, Jo studied at a black schoolcalled the Tuggle Institute. "When I came out of the Tug-gle Institute, I was going to play trumpet. A fellownamed George Hudson, who later went into St. Louisand played with Jeter Pillars, was teaching me to play.Later on, after I grew up, I played in the band with him.So I started on trumpet, I tried to play the sax, and I triedto play the piano. I didn't know what I was going to do.

"Somehow or other I wound up at the A&M Institutein Huntsville, Alabama. Right on the outskirts, fourmiles away, is a place called Normal, Alabama. At thattime, one of the foremost cornetists in the whole worldwas there. His name was James H. Wilson, and he wasthe only one that could play the cadenza of a tune called"Salute Polka." That's when I began to get my musicaleducation. When I went into the band room and he putup "Poet and Peasant," it took me two months to getback into the room. I didn't know nothing about a halfnote or less.

"Mr. Wilson was the one who told me about LouisArmstrong. I said, 'Who is Louis Armstrong?' I had adistant cousin that took me back to Chicago. I went to seeMr. Armstrong playing with Erskine Tate at the Ven-dome Theatre with that trumpet with the spotlight onhim—I quickly gave up the trumpet. Then I was going toplay saxophone and here comes ColemanHawkins, so I forgot it. I switched to pi-ano. Then years later, in Omaha, Ne-braska, here comes Art Tatum. So muchfor piano."

In fact, though, Jo Jones might havebeen found performing on any or all ofthese instruments through the latter '20s,as well as vibes, chimes and timpani. Hewas also involved in singing, dancing anddramatics in the company of some of thegreat all-around entertainers of that pe-riod.

"I didn't think I was going to end up asa drummer. I was playing all these instru-ments, but I was playing drums on all ofthem. Then I found out that the drum-mer was the highest paid man in theband. I don't know why all these guysjump on the drums and th ink it's the easi-est way out. Sheeeet. When I first metMr. Wilson Driver [one of the first jazzdrummers to come out of Birmingham],he had a set of drums, a xylophone and acornet, and he could teach the whole

thing. Same with Jimmy King. You knowhow many instruments Benny Carterplays? To be in Lawrence Welk's band youhad to play at least six instruments, mister.The drummer had to know as much musicas the conductor. I took all of that and putit on the drums.

"How did I learn the music? I learned it.I earned it. I mowed lawns. I did all sorts ofchores. In 1923 I met Butterbeans & Suzie.I was running errands and getting theirfood at the Prolic Theatre in Birmingham,Alabama. And then I went to the musicteacher, and while he gave lessons, I satthere and listened.

"I always hung out with older, experi-enced people—I never hung out with noone my age. In my formative years, havingas a kid dabbled around in shows . . . inChautauqua shows, in medicine shows, incarnivals and circuses and litt le girlieshows and what have you, I was in an ad-vantage to travel. And when I came out inshow biz, there weren't nobody flying nooceans but Lindbergh, and now they thinkit's a rough trip to fly to California. Whenyou joined a show, you had to be recom-mended from your minister or rabbi orsomebody, and you had to be 25 years oldbefore you drank alcohol. You just didn'tgo into no nightclub. But at the same time,that way we were juveniles and you startedin show business young . . . I've onlyknown Buddy Rich since he was six. Butyou had a whole lot of fathers and unclesand mothers out here, you see, and that'swhat was so remarkable about it. I do re-member that we were connected with peo-ples that had foreign intrigue. These peo-ple—Hungarians, Lithuanians, trapezeartists and what-have-you—they taught ushow to eat, how to think, they taught uspersonal hygine. They taught us moral andcivil discipline. At that time, musiciansand baseball players couldn't stay at the

best hotels. It had nothing to do with color. It was just the way you were identified.'You're a musician? What? You're in a carnival? Out!' Because at that time the Billboardhad a thing called the blacklist. If you picked up that issue and saw your name on theblacklist, that meant you were grounded for a year. It was impossible for you to get a jobshining shoes on the Sahara Desert.

"During these periods in different parts and places I've been, when the show gotstranded in a certain area—Chattanooga, Louisville, Paducah or whatever—they'dcome over from those madhouses and say to me, 'You come over and play in this band.'They knew me as Jo. I'd come in and play with those bands. I didn't know nothing aboutwhite and colored. I just thought it was music, just so nobody don't bother my drums. Iknew where I stood. Sometimes they didn't even have a set of drums. I'd borrow a snareand a bass drum, and use a coat hanger for a cymbal holder; I had a coat hanger, a footpedal and a pair of sock cymbals. And these guys were musicians. I didn't know nothingabout colored and white until I was 19 or 20.

'' I remember seeing a black woman in South Alabama out on roller skates all by herselfon a rink where she didn't have no business being. She was wonderful, and I was watch-ing her when this white man turned to me and said, 'Do you know who that is?' I didn't.He said, 'That's Miss Bessie Smith.' Can you imagine that? A white man in Alabama

calling a black woman Miss. I couldn't believe it. Bessie Smith, mister! Doyou know who was the first jazz band to play Carneige Hall? Not BennyGoodman. James Reece Europe—a black man."

After covering the United States several times over, Jo Jones found him-self in Omaha, Nebraska, in 1930 (with Skeet Morgan and R.C. Hicks andtheir Dixie Ramblers). For the next four years, up until the time he went toKansas City, he got his seminal experience playing with territory bands onthe circuit extending from Texas up through Canada. "Trouble was," hebellows, "everywhere I went and tried to get into a band, the bandleaderwould say, 'Son, are you married?' I'd say, 'No, I'm not married; I'm notmarrying nobody.' He'd say, 'You have to be married to be in this band.'Everywhere I turned there were people telling me I had to be married. Sofinally, after making six feeble attempts in two months, I married! I marriedon June 23, 1933. Vivian Greenne, the daughter of a minister," he smiled,drifting back with the recollection. "I begged the girl. I said, 'Will you do mea favor?' 'What?' 'Just marry me.'

"All those guys could read music; not like the boys in Kansas City. At thattime, no one could out-read these guys in Omaha. See, when I joined theunion, I had to take a test. They sat me down and the first thing they put infront of me was a march called 'Chicago Tribune.' I tore that son-of-a-gunup, and that's how I got my card. Other than that they wouldn't have givenme a card. They didn't have no 'ooof goof musicians.

"In Omaha, when I found a piano player who was limpid, I'd go and pushhim off the job. But here would come some hobo who would push me off thejob. So I'd go around the corner and find me a weak drummer and push him

"I WASN'T BORN NOCHILD. I WAS BORN A

MAN. NOT A BABY.NOT A BOY. A MAN, IN

CAPITAL LETTERS.NO QUESTIONS, NOSEMI-COLONS, NOPARENTHESIS, NO

COMMAS. PERIOD. AMAN!"-Jo Jones

Pho

to b

y Rick

Mattin

gly

Tne Count Basie Orchestra with Ethel water as they ap-peared in the 1943 film Stage' Door Canteen.

Photo Courtesy of Institute of Jazz Studies/Rutgers University

Pho

to b

y Rob

ert San

telli

credibly lanky, Jim Phantom hardly resembles a drummer as heleans over a desk at the New York office of EMI Records andchecks out a batch of photos of himself. Going strictly by looks,it's much easier to imagine a guitar or microphone in Phantom'shands than a pair of drumsticks.

But forget about his physical appearance. Jim Phantom is in-deed a drummer, and a very good one at that. Phantom's style isbased on precision and simplicity. His snare is big, crisp, sharp,and unabashedly aggressive sounding. Along with Brian Setzer onguitar and vocals, and Lee Rocker on bass, Slim Jim Phantomplays a very important part in the success of the Stray Cats—aband that is one of the most unlikely superstar outfits in the musicbusiness today. By delving into the raw and good-time roll of rock-abilly, the Stray Cats have, in effect, defiantly thumbed their nosesat the sterilized techno-pop sound that's currently sweepingthrough mainstream rock, and proved that not all dance musicneed be electronic.

Rebellious by nature, Slim Jim Phantom refuses to be stereo-typed as the typical rock or rockabilly drummer. He plays his ex-ceedingly simple kit standing up, and positions himself right out infront with Setzer and Rocker when the trio performs live. "It'sabout time people get to see what a drummer actually looks like onstage, not to mention how hard he works, "jokes Phantom. "I'min the band too, you know. "

Because he's so young—just 21 years old—Phantom doesn'thave a wealth of big-time drum experience behind him. The prod-uct of numerous bands in and around his hometown of Massape-qua, Long Island, Phantom, nevertheless has been playing drumsfor some ten years. Thus, what he lacks in professional experience,he more than makes up for in enthusiasm. "I'm the type of drum-mer who likes to totally involve himself in not only his drumming,but everything else that's happening around him on stage and inthe studio. I like to take in as much as I can and then have it show inthe way I play my drums. "

Despite the hard-guy image, Phantom is a warm individual and Ifound him very easy to talk to. We met in Manhattan the day be-fore the Stray Cats were to play Jones Beach out on Long Island, agig that surely represented a triumphant return of a band that,incredibly enough, had to go to England to score a record deal. Jimspoke about those days in England as well as the Stray Cats' brandof rockabilly and his rather unique style of playing the drums.RS: More than one person has referred to the Stray Cats as a rock-abilly revivalist band. Do you view yourself and the Cats as revival-ists?SJP: I don't th ink we could be a revivalist band because we're tooyoung. We're in our early 20's, and we weren't around in the 1950swhen rockabilly was happening, so for us it 's the first time. I thinkthe only ones who could revive rockabilly are the ones who werethere in the first place and are now coming back on the music scene.What the Stray Cats have always tried to do is to take the spirit thatwas in rockabilly and update it a bit. I th ink we play it louder and abit more electric sounding. In the studio, we try to take what wasgood about '50s music—the slapping bass sound, the twangy gui-tar and the big snare sound—and make it modern sounding andmuch cleaner. The only thing we're reviving, if people insist onusing that term, is the spirit of rockabilly.RS: It 's no secret that, a couple of years ago, the Stray Cats packedup their gear, went to England, and got a record deal there beforeanything happened with the band back home in the States. Wasthere a feeling in the band that you'd have to break in Englandbefore you made it in America?SJP: I don't know if it was a question of having to go there, but we

were here in New York for about a year playing local bars out onLong Island and in Manhattan a couple of times a month, andnothing was happening. We had a decent following too; a coupleof hundred kids used to come and hear us all the time. But therejust wasn't any kind of record company interest, and that's whatwe wanted to do—make a record.RS: Did the Stray Cats actively pursue record company interest?SJP: I guess we just played and kind of expected them to come tous. But as far as our tr ip to England is concerned, we were there ona whim. It was the summertime and there really wasn't that muchto do. So we sold our cars and stereos, and took off. I sold mydrums. We just kind of winged it actually.RS: Why England and not, say, Los Angeles?SJP: We heard that rockabilly has never died there, and that therewere still kids wearing '50s hairstyles and clothes and stuff. I th inkwe went out of a sense of adventure. Fortunately for us, thingsreally clicked over there.RS: Indeed it was adventuresome. None of you knew anyone overthere, and nothing was set up for you in terms of gigs or evenhousing.SJP: I had never even been out of New York before, let alone thecountry. It was exciting and a li t t le bit scary at the same time. Like Isaid, we were very lucky that the move worked for us. But Iwouldn't recommend that young bands just skip out of the Statesand head on over to England. We did it, but at our stage of thegame, we needed some type of stimulant, and England was it.RS: What did you find when you arrived?SJP: Well, we got off the plane and said, "Oh wow! Great! Nowwhat do we do?" [laughs] We stayed in cheap hotels and knockedon doors to get a gig here and there. Finally, we hooked up with aperson who arranged some support slots for us in a pub. Ever sincewe played our first show there, which was three years ago, it beganto happen for us. They were looking for something over there be-cause there was no trend happening at the moment. So the newtrend turned out to be rockabilly and we were the ones who, I guessyou could say, lit the fuse.RS: After having gone unnoticed in the States, your success inEngland must have made coming back home all that much sweeterfor you and the Cats.SJP: Oh yeah, definitely. It not only feels good to make it in yourhome country, but financially speaking, America is the only placeyou can make any money. When we signed a recording contract inEngland, we signed for the whole world, excluding America.That's why we're with EMI in America, and Arista in England andthe rest of the world. You see, we knew that one day when the timewas right we'd come back home and the record companies weregoing to want us. We knew they'd be sorry they didn't sign us whenthey could have signed us cheap!RS: It seems as though MTV was extremely important in breakingthe Stray Cats here in America because it's such a visual band.SJP: That's really true. I th ink MTV has been helpful in breaking alot of bands. It's helped a lot of bands who just happen to lookgood but can't play that well, and it's also helped bands who aregenuinely good. The Stray Cats owe MTV a lot. When we firstcame back to the States about a year and a half ago, we were get-ting no radio airplay at al l—I mean none. Yet we'd go into a townand sell out a thousand-seat hall, which, since it was our very firsttime on the road in the States, we were quite pleased with. And allthe kids we met would say that they'd seen us on MTV, and that'swhy they came to the show.RS: Speaking of the visual qualities of the Stray Cats, I recall thatyou once remarked that, "It's got to be the music and the look."Do you still believe that?SJP: Oh yeah, sure. A lot of bands play real well, but they don'thave a look or image to go with the music. What would the Stray

by Robert Santellihe first thing you notice about Slim Jim Phantom of theStray Cats—aside from the tattoos that seem to crawl upand down both arms—is, well, his s/imness. Tall and in-T

Cats be if we wore beards, had fat bellies and just didn't care howwe looked? You need to play good and look good. That's the keyto success in this business. And yet, the funny thing is that even if Iwasn't in a band, I'd still dress the same way I do now. It's just theway I feel—like a rocker.RS: How would you define your role as drummer for the StrayCats?SJP: I think any drummer in a trio has to play fairly simple. Iappreciate Simon Phillips and Billy Cobham; I met them all andthey're great to talk with and everything. But in the Stray Cats, Ijust can't play that way. It's just impossible to play that way if themusic is going to work.RS: Why is that?SJP: Because I have to allow Brian, our guitarist, as much roomand freedom as I can. His instrument is the only one in the bandthat plays melody. He has to have as wide a range as possible. Some and Lee, our bass player, tend to play on the beat. I ' l l play acouple of rolls here and there, but I really tend to play on the "2"and the "4" while he plays on the "1" and the "3." It's prettysimple, you know, but that's what works for us.RS: What you said about drummers in three-piece bands and howthey should play fairly simple is interesting. If you look back towhat Ginger Baker did with Cream and Mitch Mitchell did with theJimi Hendrix Experience, and on occasion, what Stewart Cope-land does with the Police, it would seem there's some room fordisagreement. Perhaps what you're saying is that your trio de-mands that you play simple, because your band plays rockabilly.SJP: You're right. I know that it wouldn't come into my head toplay busy like Baker or Mitchell. I think when Baker and Mitchellplayed, a lot of drummers in that era were trying to find themsel-ves. The role of the rock drummer hadn't been fully explained yet.I think a simple rather than a busy style of drumming is the onlyway it would work for the Cats. Baker needed that busy soundbecause Cream was a busy group. I just like to play it simple. Imean, I like drummers l ike Bernard Purdie. Listening to drum-mers like him taught me to play the way I need to play in the Cats.RS: What you're saying then is that your role in the Stray Cats isfirst and foremost a supportive one.SJP: Definitely. I believe my role is support. If you have two guitarplayers, you might have more freedom because you can playagainst things a little more. You see, rockabilly is dance music andthat's the kind of music the Stray Cats play, although we're notlimited to just that, as you can tell with some of the stuff we do. Ifit's dance music—whether it's rockabilly or whatever—the drum-

mer is always going to play on the "2" and the "4" because that'swhat makes you want to dance, or at the very, very least, tap yourfoot.RS: Your drumkit matches your drum style perfectly. It too is ex-ceedingly simple.SJP: Yeah. I got a deal with Gretsch recently which made me veryhappy because I play Gretsch drums anyway. But I use a 24" bassdrum and a 6" snare drum. I use Paiste cymbals—an 18" mediumride which I also use as a crash, so I have to play a l i t t l e thinner thanI would a ride cymbal. I would l ike to use a heavier ride cymbal,but I guess since I also use it as a crash, I need to have it a bitthinner. That's all the equipment I really need. When I startedplaying drums I had a full kit , and I played a full kit for years andyears. Actually, I just started to play a full kit again becauseGretsch gave me one. So I set it up in my house and have been goingcrazy with it for the last couple of weeks.RS: Did you find it absolutely necessary to tr im down your kitwhen you began playing with the Stray Cats?SJP: Well, I just thought it looked better. At first I didn't even usea bass drum—all I used was a snare and a cymbal. Also, I justthought to myself, "Why does a drummer have to always be in theback? Is there a rule somewhere that says that it has to be that way?Is it written down somewhere?" I had seen the guy who playedwith Gene Vincent, Be-Bop Harrell. He used to stand up for pho-tographs. But he was kind of a heavy-set drummer, and I don'tthink he moved around much. The idea that I should stand up justcame to Brian, Lee, and me at pretty much the same time. It waslike, "What would happen if the whole band was at the front of thestage and no one in back? What would that look like?" Well, wetried it and we were so amazed by it that we just kept doing it. Astime went on, I got better at being up there and playing the kit theway it should be played. Now I've gotten it down to where I canreally play some stuff on the bass drum, which is quite interesting.RS: Standing up and playing a bass drum obviously took sometime to master. Do you use any different leg muscles?SJP: The whole thing is balance, so I really have to put all myweight on my right leg. I'm left-handed, so I use my left leg to hitthe bass drum. When I went back to using a full k i t , I forgot how touse a hi-hat. I was looking at my foot and saying, "Damn it , dosomething!" [laughs] It actually took me a couple of days to getmy right foot working again.RS: The idea of a drummer not only standing up when playing, butalso being out front with the other musicians in the band goes along way towards breaking down some of the barriers drummers

"YOU HAVE TO FEELGOOD ABOUTWHAT YOU PLAY IFITS GOING TOCOME ACROSSWITH FEELING.

Photo

by L

inda

Mat

low/P

ix

have had to contend with for years.SJP: Yeah, I l ike to view the way I play the drums, standing up,and my place on the stage as kind of a rebellion of sorts. At the t imeI thought of doing i t , drummers were using four bass drums, gongsand stuff like that. The thing about my situation back then was thatI couldn't afford any of that stuff, even if I wanted it. So I was alsosaying to myself, "You can be a great drummer l ike Carl Palmer"—who by the way is a great drummer—"but why not take it theother way?" When I was learning to play the drums in the early'70s, Palmer was the drummer, but why not take it the other wayand use less instead of more?RS: Can you th ink of any disadvantages you have encounteredstanding up and playing?SJP: I guess if I played with a different type of band there might besome disadvantages. Sure, there are certain limitations, but at thesame time, there are none that have really held me back. I wouldplay the same way if I had a full k i t in front of me. I know on thebass drum I really can't play everything I want to, but that's aboutit, you know.RS: Describe the reaction you got from the crowd the first t imethey saw you standing up and playing nothing but a snare drumand cymbal.SJP: It was great, it really was. You see, we had talked about itwithin the group to get kind of an idea on how we wanted topresent this image. The Stray Cats was like a sideline group for usin the beginning. Brian was in a band called the Bloodless Pha-roahs.andmeand Lee were in a blues band. As it turned out, therewere more people coming to hear the Stray Cats than the otherbands. So we put more and more energy and time into the Catsunti l it became a full-time thing. At first we started playing in old-man bars where a couple of kids hung out. They'd see us and telltheir friends about us. But the first time a lot of people see us,they're quite taken back. On Long Island, which is where we lived,they didn't know if we were from Mars or what, with our haircutsand pink suits, and with me standing up, playing the drums andscreaming. They didn't know what we were. But after a while, theyfound out and it was just great. They found out it was just old-fashioned rock 'n' roll, and they liked i t . Some of the kids got tothe point where they'd do anything for us. They'd unload theequipment, help set things up, and that kind of thing. They werereal loyal.

But it was still hard to get gigs on Long Island as the Stray Catsbecause there were a lot of Led Zeppelin copy bands. To play a barthere you had to have a PA and a lighting system, spandex pants, avoice l ike Robert Plant and a pair of socks that went with yourout f i t . No one would hire us—no one. That's why we played inthese l i t t le corner bars that had a l i t t l e stage in the back. It startedwith Brian playing standards by himself, and Lee and I eventuallyjoining him. We happened to be at a gig once, and I had my drumsin the car. Brian said he needed a drummer that night, and I said,"Fine." The group kind of evolved l ike that , despite the fact thatthere were so few places to play original music out on Long Island.

RS: You did get some work in Manhattan, as you mentioned be-fore. What were gigs there like?SJP: We got work in Manhattan, but the thing was, you could onlywork once a month. We worked at Max's and CBGB's, but clubowners won't hire you this weekend if they know you're going toplay another club in the city next weekend. So what we used to dowas call ourselves the Tom Cats, the Bob Cats, and the Wild Catsto get steady work. If you wanted to get record companies to comedown and see you, you had to work Manhattan. But in order tomake some money, we had to play those Long Island bars.RS: What are your musical roots? You said you played in a bluesband before joining the Stray Cats. When did you discover rock-abilly?

Pho

to b

y Ran

dy B

achm

an

Pho

to b

y Deb

bie

Leav

itt/P

ix

T imes have certainly changed. Circa1964, the exposure of the Beatlesaltered the lives of most would-be

musicians of that era. For those who fan-cied playing instruments, the dreamseemed to come together in the image offour lads playing in a self-contained unit.For drummers everywhere, Ringo Starrbecame the one to emulate and his situa-tion became the one to covet. In previousdecades, drummers like Gene Krupa,Buddy Rich and Louie Bellson had pro-vided that kind of inspiration, and nowRingo Starr became the idol of the '60sgeneration. It was staggering at the time tofind out that another drummer played the'first Beatles' recording session. Who wasthis Andy White person who played drumson "Love Me Do"? A "studio drum-mer?" What was that?

For a long time, a shroud of mysterycovered the fact that our favorite groupson vinyl were not always the same individ-uals we saw in concert. Certainly the rec-ords never revealed anything to the con-trary. But as the facts began to unravel, anew hero emerged: the studio drummer. Inrecent years, the desire to play in a grouphas been, in many cases, replaced by thegoal of session work. And yet, interest-ingly enough, many of the top recordingplayers never set out to be session players,and even now, are interested in returningto the basics of ensemble effort. (Cases inpoint, Jeff Porcaro with Toto, RickMarotta with Ronin, Yogi Horton withChew and Larrie Londin with his newNash ville group.) Is it simply a case of' "thegrass is always greener, " or do they knowsomething we don't know?

In an attempt to answer that questionand others relating to the studios, MDasked a number of L.A. studio drummersto get together and talk about what theydo. Because of tight schedules, two sepa-rate meetings were held. The first was withHal Blaine, Shelly Marine, Jim Keltner,Craig Krampf and Vinnie Colaiuta. At thesecond meeting, Jim, Craig and Vinniewere joined by Jeff Porcaro and RickMarotta. It was obvious throughout thesediscussions that everyone enjoyed the con-tact with their fellow musicians, and theopportunity to bounce ideas off theirpeers. Anybody who still believes the myththat all studio players dislike each otherand stab one another in the back to get gigsneed only read the following discussion tosee the warmth, affection and respectwhich each of these musicians holds for theothers.

Photo by Rick Malkin

Jim Keltner, Hal Blaine, Shelly Manne,Craig Krampf, Vinnie Colaiuto

L.A. Studio Drummers Round

RF: A lot of drummers are asking how toget into the studio.Hal: You get into the studios through a se-ries of evolvements—one band to an-other—which might lead eventually to aband that records, or demos, or whatever,and you start getting studio experience.Once you get a taste of that , a lot of valueschange and you say, "Who needs this? I'dlike to work in the studios."Shelly: I came into the studio in a strangeway. When I came out here, jazz musiciansweren't being hired to do studio work. Iwas pigeonholed—"He played with StanKenton and Woody Herman; he's going toplay too loud. He's a jazz musician, hecan't read and we'd better not use him."But then a drummer was needed to do apicture called Rear Window with JimmyStewart. I was hired for a jazz-orientedsegment.Craig: What time was this?Shelly: 5/4.Craig: I meant what year? [laughter]Shelly: It was 1952. I went in, read the partwell and made a hero out of the contractor.From then on, he knew I could cover otherareas because it wasn't just jazz on thedate, so he started hiring me all the time.

When the t ime comes for you to get yourbreak—you have to be in the right place atthe right time and a lot of luck is in-volved—you have to be able to do the job.If you can produce what's needed whenthat moment comes, your future is prettysecure after that.Vinnie: It's still pretty new to me, but thesame thing happened. I was playing inclubs and stuff, but it was, "Can we usehim on a rhythm track?" Finally somebass player will stick his neck out on achopping block for you and hire you. ButI'm finding out that it 's s t i l l kind of astruggle. I wonder sometimes if some ofthese cats can really hear. You make a heroout of the contractor, but I don't thinksome of them can tel l .RF: How important is reading?Shelly: I t h i nk i t ' s very important in studiowork to be able to read.Craig: There are various types of studiowork too. There are different crews thatrun together—the film crew, the commer-cial crew, and basically where the majori tyof my work is, rock 'n' roll albums. At 18and 19, I could sight read anything. In thelast ten years, I think I've seen five legiti-mate, what we would call "real" drumcharts. In rock they deal with chord chartsa lot. I got a call for a movie about twoyears ago and they passed out music. I wasscared to death, but that 's my fault for let-ting that slip a l i t t l e bit .Shelly: But it's not only just reading; it 'sbeing able to see it and hear it at the sametime.

RF: Is the emphasis on feel or reading inthe studio?Jim: It's on both of them.Shelly: Feel isn't that important in the stu-dio. If you're playing drums, you're sup-posed to have some kind of feeling, buthalf the time when I go to a studio call, it'swith click tracks. So the time thing is al-ready set up for you. Now within that timething, yes, it 's up to you to get a good feel.If you do a movie with Jerry Goldsmith,there's no feel involved whatsoever; you'refollowing a conductor. But if you go inhaving to play a bossa nova or rock, theway I play it , you have to try to get somekind of a feel, but your ears give you thefeel.RF: Basically, are drummers l ike you guyscalled upon in the studio to contributeyour own sound?Jim: I say yes and no on that. Like Shellysaid, when you do certain movie dates andthings like that, you're not called for yourstyle. You're called because the contractorknows you can handle it.Shelly: You used to be called for your stylemore. I should clarify that, though. In arock-oriented studio call, I would sayyou'd be called for your style.Jim: In the rock thing, that's generallytrue.Shelly: But all studio dates are not rockoriented. In the case Jim is ta lking about,style doesn't enter into it. Whether you canread it and make the parts is what's impor-tant. When I started out in the studios, youwere taken more for your style. They knewthat you could give something creatively towhat the music was supposed to be. Theywould hire you because they knew youwould be creative and could add a sound.Jim: Like when you did Man With AGolden Arm.Shelly: Exactly. Even more so, anotherone was A Walk On The Wild Side. Mydrum part on that was blank and so ElmerBernstein, the composer, said, "I wantsome sound here to start it off with. Maybeit should be metal or something thatsounds l ike metal." So I grabbed a triangleand held it in my hand. I t was no big deal,but I opened it and closed it, and he said,"That's it." Imagination, in that kind ofstudio work, is 75% of the game. You haveto use your imagination, not only in studiowork, but in playing music too. In fact it'sin everything. Einstein said that imagina-tion is more important than knowledge.Vinnie: It 's like drums. You go to a drumclinic and people watch you play. Theycome up to you and want to know how youdid this and that . What they don't realize isthat what you're doing is because of thecontext of the music, your imaginationand your creativity, not because you'rephysically doing this or that.

Hal: Almost every th ing we've ta lkedabout so far runs the entire gamut. Somepeople want you to do nothing but what iswritten; some people want you to do every-thing on your own; and you'll get every-thing in between. The musicians who havehad the experience, who have been fortu-nate enough to have gotten into it slowlyand then got busy, busy, busy, where theyhave finally done everything, are the musi-cians the contractors call because theyknow they don't have to wait. They knowyou're reliable, you're going to be on time,you're going to be sober, and you are pre-pared for anything.RF: Have you ever gone into the studioand had someone say, "I want you tosound like the guy who did the drumson ... "?Shelly: I did a date with Jimmy Bowen,"Fever." I had never worked with Jim,but I had made the original record of "Fe-ver," and it said on my part, "play likeShelly Manne." So I played it just like Iplayed it originally. The guy came out andsaid I wasn't doing it right. When I toldhim I was Shelly Manne, he turned aroundand went back in the booth.RF: What are some of the difficulties ofstudio work?Hal: An engineer who is just starting.RF: In his recent MD interview, SteveGadd said you shouldn't get bugged withthe engineers. You should just be happythat you were hired.Jim: I really liked when he said that be-cause that's the truth. That's where I hopeI've matured. I don't want to fight any-more.Shelly: You have to have that attitude.Jim: You have to if you're going to do stu-dio work. If you don't want to do studiowork, you can just say, "Forget them all"and not do it.Shelly: It used to be that the engineers, themicrophones and everything in the studiowere there to serve the music and the musi-cian. It's turned totally around now. Themusician, especially the drummer, is sup-posed to be servicing the engineer, andthat's bullshit. If you get a certain soundon your instrument, you get your ownsound. They're trying to make you soundlike somebody else who they particularlydig and who is particularly easy to record.You can't be concerned with that. Theylock you in a closet. I heard some recordsthe other day recorded years ago, and I'mnot trying to say "Give me the good olddays," because I like a lot of the music Ihear now, but they used three mic's hang-ing up on the ceiling and the orchestrasounded great. In the orchestras nowa-days, there are 12 mic's on the drumsalone.Hal: Those kids are trying to make a name

table by Robyn Flans

for themselves.Craig: It takes a while for engineers andproducers to have confidence in you. Sowhen you get a call with an engineer or pro-ducer who hasn't worked with you, some-times they're not aware that your set is go-ing to be alright and you go through havoc.Then attitude comes in. I've let engineerstry all sorts of things. You keep your pa-tience because you can come off cocky oregotistical otherwise, but you let them dotheir thing when, in your own mind, youknow that if they try this mic' on your kickdrum, it will work.Hal: All you have to say is, "Sure, okay,yeah, right."Shelly: How about when you go into a datewhere the drums sound rotten and abouttwo hours later, all of a sudden, they soundgood. All of a sudden, the engineer hasfound it at the end of the date.Jim: There are great engineers, mediocreengineers, engineers with no ears and somewith great ears. To me, an engineer is a per-son who has substance and loves music aswell , or should. Ideally, an engineershould be a musician.Hal: An engineer who comes out of thebooth and turns the mic' a 16th of an inchis becoming a hero because the producer issitting there. You talk about misconcep-tions. These producers don't really knowabsolutely everything, so they get an engi-neer who might have worked on a hit rec-ord. The engineer says, "Don't worry. Nomatter how bad this band sounds, I'm go-ing to make you a hit." That's a joke.

Shelly: It's been l ike that for a long time.On one of my first record dates, in 1939,the big thing was, "The bass drum is tooloud." So I took the pedal off the bassdrum. We made a test pressing and the guysaid, "The bass drum is still too loud." Iheld up the pedal and said, "I didn't haveone." But why should everybody soundthe same anyway?

Another inequity is, I 'm not a rockdrummer, but a lot of times I have to playrock things. I ' l l see the part and say, "Ineed a week to psyche this part out, be-tween the bass drum, the left hand and thehi-hat." Then I find out the composerheard a record on the radio driving to workone day and the drummer took three weeksto lay down a bass drum track, a hi-hattrack, etc., and this composer wants it allcoming out all at once. Mercy, that's oneof the problems with technology. Younever know how anything is done any-more.

RF: Has state-of-the-art technology maderecording more tedious and difficult?Jim: It comes down to the engineer and theproducer again, and what their ideas are.The records nowadays are made differ-ently.Craig: Every artist and every record is dif-ferent, and there is no right way or wrongway—whatever works for that particularartist or the producer. There was a greatquote from Gary Chester. He said, "As faras drummers, you're only as great or asgood as you make the producer and artistlook great and good." Every situation is

different.Jim: And that comes back to attitude.When I first started getting into the stu-dios, that was the main thing people wouldtalk about: "Check Hal out sometime.He's always the guy who's there to the verylast and always up," while some guitar orkeyboard player would be bitching.Craig: People who are like that usually doget weeded out. Usually life catches up topeople and I think attitude is a big part ofthe studio.Hal: I personally have gotten along by be-ing funny. I know that's how it is withShelly too. When there are certain tensionsthat you can feel, if you can make peoplelaugh, that will break the tension. I think alot of people hire us for that reason.Craig: I think the drummer has to be incontrol in most situations. I t does startwith us and if that's not happening, thetrack is not going to happen.Jim: This guy here [indicating Craig] givesmore . . . I have heard a lot of people talk-ing about you, and also, just by watchingyou play sometimes on TV and such, I cantell that you're giving every ounce of every-thing you've got. That's what's happen-ing.Craig: You've got to give 110% or 120%.Otherwise, what are you doing?Jim: That'll make the record happen. Youcan't go in and expect that your drums aregoing to be featured. If you're going to bethere, you have to cooperate and that's allthere is to it. Save your own sounds foryour own thing. That's what I'm doing.

Hal

Vinnie

Jim




Right now, I'm messing with sounds of myown and I have a bass and snare drumsound I really love. Instead of complainingabout it all the time I'm just going to haveto use it on something of my own. I'll cre-ate a project for it.Craig: I recently did a project where theproducer didn't want to get into any newsounds or experimental sounds. I have abunch of them saved and someday it willbe right where someone wants more out ofme sonically.Vinnie: I want to ask something. Giving120% because you really believe in the mu-sic, or enjoy what you're doing, or becauseyou're trying to fulfil l what you were hiredto do is one thing. But say you're on a date,you're playing a track and you are person-ally really into this for whatever reason.You start a tune and about four bars laterthe producer says, "Okay, stop and let'stry it again. Okay, go." Then four barslater, the producer says, "Okay, just bassand drums. No hi-hat." After about 26times of that, doesn't it start irking you? Itbecomes a real chore.Jim: Right there is the point we've beenmaking: attitude.Vinnie: I'm not talking about showingyour attitude, but dealing with it in yourmind.Jim: We all can understand that.Craig: Whenever that happens to me, I runthe statement through my mind: "Recordsare forever." And that will usually help meget through any situation. That's what fas-cinates me about records; whatever I play

at this given moment, time and space willremain forever and I can't live with myselfif it isn't a good performance. It's hardsometimes, though, when you have certainproducers who say they l ike a live situa-tion, but to get it live, they have to runthrough things for 12 hours, and that takeafter 12 hours has to be as inspirational astake # l .RF: You mentioned that, in rock drum-ming, you may be called to perform yourown style. How did you develop your style,and how do you know how to incorporateit in a session?Jim: That's like asking how you talk theway you talk.Hal: It's just a natural evolvement.Jim: Even physically, the way you're builthas something to do with the way you play.Recently, I was looking at some pictures ofBuddy and he's not a big man, but his arms

are big. He has no wrists; the arms justcome down to these big mitts. Shelly hasthe same kind of hand, but Shelly is a bigman. I'm kind of a big guy but I have theseli t t le tiny wrists and relatively small hands.I know that has got something to do withthe way I play. I'm not sure what, but Iknow it has something to do with it. Thisguy here [indicating Vinnie] really epito-mizes it. You've got real long arms, andthe way you play, you look like your armsare extra long. They're like whips.Vinnie: I often wonder how drummers geta real big sound playing little skinny sticks.I can't because my hands are real big andmy arms are real skinny.Craig: And for younger drummers, I think

this is an important point. I had a friendwho "became" John Bonham. He coulddo anything Bonham did, but had no styleof his own. I think we're each here to workwith who we are. Hal is here to be the bestHal Blaine there ever was, Jim is supposedto be the best Jim Keltner there ever was,and I'm trying to be the best Craig Krampf

Craig

Shelly

Rick

Jeff

Photo by Rick Malkin Photo by Rick Malkin

Photo bv Rick Malkin


there is. You take from all these influencesthroughout music in every form of music,try to absorb it, and how that winds up be-ing you, I don't know. That's fascinating.Shelly: It's not a compliment when some-body says, "Man, you play just like BuddyRich." It 's a compliment technica l ly ,probably, but not entirely.RF: Even sitting enters into it. You, Vin-nie, happen to sit real low. And everyonewants to know how high or low you shouldsit.Jim: I try to copy every drummer I know. Itake everything I see. Certain people youcan't copy. I would never try to copy Vin-nie. The guy is ridiculous. [Vinnie pretendsto shoot Jim.] I've always tried to copysomething, whether it be subconscious orconscious. As for how to sit, I've checkedthat out a lot. When I was actually workingopposite sets with Shelly Manne, eventu-ally my seat would be where Shelly's was inorder for me to be able to see, but it doesn'talways work out.Vinnie: I was watching Tony Williams playone time. This cat is really strong and I re-member hearing stories that he couldbarely reach the pedals as a kid. Now he's avery little guy who sits up so high that he'salmost standing. He's playing flat-footedand I can't understand it. I try to sit thathigh and I have no leverage at all.Jim: What I th ink he does is change thingsaround on purpose. He's a master on theinstrument, like Miles. Once you can playthings so easily and beautiful ly, you justhave the tendency to want to go onto someother thing. You have to constantly ex-plore and make yourself do things physi-cally to make yourself change.Shelly: Look at time signatures; that's aperfect example. Up to how many yearsago, nobody played 3/4, 5/4, 7/4, 7/8 orwhatever. They played 4/4 or 2/4. All of asudden, there are new time signatures andwhat do you do? You have to strugglethrough it, and suddenly it will come toyou. You always have to reach fur the rthan you think you're capable of. That'sthe only way you keep growing and im-proving.Hal: Oftentimes you are called upon to dothings and you say, "Oh my God. I couldnever do that." But somehow you do itand that gives you a li t t le more confidencefor the next time you get into that situa-tion.Shelly: Well, Vince played with FrankZappa. I was called on a date to do an al-bum called Lumpy Gravy with him. Man,all of a sudden, I saw these parts thatZappa wrote and they were frightening. Ijust looked at it awhile and I got by the bestway I could. That experience opened it upfor me, so the next time I played it , I wasnot as fearful of it. Finally, in my own

band, I was having things written in 7/8.RF: Should a person go into music with theidea of becoming a studio player?Shelly: Jim, I know that you started to playdrums because you wanted to play drumsand you dug the music. I don't th ink itcame into your mind that "I'm going to bea studio great." When I decided I wantedto be a jazz drummer in New York City, Idecided that that was what I wanted to doand people said, "You can only make$3.50 a night." I said, "I don't care, that'swhat I have to do." You become a musi-cian for the same reason painters paint,writers write and dancers dance. I t ' s thesame in all the arts. Now, from the accu-mulation—if you're good at it and if youhave talent, which is a very abstract wordanyway—a word-of-mouth th ing hap-pens, from one musician to another. Idon't know Vinnie personally, but I knowwho he is because I hear other people talkabout him. Hal was the pioneer of rockdrumming out here and on the West Coast,and if Hal wasn't available, he'd have a setavailable because they wanted Hal's set.They'd even pay Hal to use his set for an-other drummer to play on.Jim: That's how important the Hal Blainesound was.Craig: I played on his set many times my-self.Shelly: Studio playing is a craft and youhave to be a good craftsman to do it.Hal: We all start off trying to get attention,I th ink . We're show-offs. It goes fromthere to become art and craft.Shelly: You're trying to find an answer tohow drummers get into the studio?RF: No, I'm trying to find the answer towhat they should expect; what they are go-ing to come in contact wi th .Shelly: They shouldn't expect anything;they should just go to the studio and play.Hal: When I was a kid , a studio musicianwas a god because he could read anythingand there was nothing he couldn't play.But in those days, this was closer to thet ruth than it is today, because nowadays,how many people know how to play apolka?Shelly: That goes back to using your ears,Hal. You can't lock yourself in a little tun-nel, listen to one kind of music and under-stand one kind of music. If you're a musi-cian, you should understand all kinds ofmusic. When I 'm home, I don't play jazzrecords; I don't play rock; I play classicalmusic most of the time. From classical mu-sic, whether I know it or not, subcon-sciously I am absorbing form. Your earshave to be prepared, so if you see the musicand hear what is going on, you should beable to adjust. And that's att i tude again.Jim: What you said a minute ago is reallytrue. All the years I have known you, you

have said the same thing, and I know thatin your own playing life, you are a man ofhigh integri ty when it comes to that . It 's alove of playing to you. You would nevergive up jazz and, in fact, you used to al-ways tell me I should play jazz more. Youhave got to love music and if you do,chances are you will love every kind of mu-sic. I used to say to people, "I love everykind of music but Hawaiian." I don'tknow why I said that . I guess I had to feelthat I didn' t l ike something, but now I evenlove Hawaiian music. It is some of themost beautiful music ever played—beauti-ful feeling stuff . The chords are lovely andthe voices are exquisite. I love every formof music and I'm still looking for someform I haven't heard yet—some Borneomusic or something.Craig: Vinnie is younger than we are, butwhen the rest of us started, they never gavestudio players credit. I was completely un-aware that such a beast existed, and it'sonly recently that, all of sudden, youngdrummers have awareness of a "studiodrummer." I don't th ink any of us startedout to do that. If it hadn't been for thatseries on the history of rock where wecould finally find out who played on what,we might not know. I was dying for yearsto know that s tu f f .Shelly: If you went to every studio musi-cian alive, people who you would call "stu-dio musicians," none of them started outto be studio musicians. The violin playersand cellists all wanted to be in symphonies.Hal: All I know is, the average person whogoes into the studio gets a taste of it and it'slike a drug. You love hearing yourself; youlove being a part of creating the music. Ist i l l cry on dates.Jim: I played on a track for a movie oncewhere I was actually crying while I wasplaying. I had never had such an experi-ence.RF: What track was that?Jim: It was the Pat Garrett and Billy theKid movie. It was where Slim Pickens wasdying. He was lying by the river, his wifewas crying and Bob Dylan was singing"Knockin' on Heaven's Door." We weredoing everything live and the voices wereall singing together—"knock, knock,knockin ' on heaven's door." He's dying,I 'm playing and I started crying.Shelly: You're very affected by it. Sayinghow much you like Hawaiian music now,you probably see palm trees, and thebeach, and all of that .Jim: Oh, yeah.Shelly: So all the images come to you. Ifyou had done that song without the movie,you may not have cried.Hal: I see things all the time. I really listento lyrics and the story really means a lot tome.

RF: Often, in interviews, you guys talkabout the magic moments. Is it possible todescribe those moments?Jeff: You can't explain the magic mo-ments.Rick: That's why it's called magic.Jim: Yeah, because check this out: Manytimes, for me, I found out that those magicmoments were not magical at all to anyoneelse but me. When that happens, you startth ink ing twice about magic moments.Rick: I t might be more interesting to de-scribe the magic moments we have hearingother people. I remember hearing stuff he[Jim] played years ago that I thought noone human could come up with, or listen-ing to Jeff play on "Rosanna." Each of uslikes the other's playing more than ourown.Jim: That's true. Like a magic moment forme musically was when I saw Vinnie playfor the first time. Everybody had been tell-ing me about Vinnie Colaiuta—Vinniewho? But when I saw you that night, man,I just won't forget i t . I t was one of thosemoments, like when I saw Elvin the first

time, or Tony the first time. The feelingswere pretty much the same. It was tremen-dous.Rick: Like Jim said earlier, sometimes youthink it's a magic moment, but when youtry to explain it, no one will have evenheard the record, or you walk off saying,"That was unbelievable; I really felt liftedfor a minute." People look at you l ike ,"What the hell are you talking about? Youplayed backbeats." That's somethingthat's so nebulous and so personal.Craig: I have felt a couple, so I'm thinking,is there something . . .Rick: . . . wrong with you? [laughter]Craig: Yeah. I saw fireworks.Vinnie: But you can't really put your fin-ger on them, can you?Craig: I can.RF: Can you be specific?Craig: A couple of one takers when thewhole band comes together.Jeff: Oh yeah.Craig: There are a couple of nights thatstand out. There was one night with Kirn[Carnes] on Mistaken Identity, a track we

had a heavy black version of. I t was fast,the tempo was incredible and we had halfthe album done. It was the night before theChristmas break and Kirn came in at 1:00in the morning and said, "This is not forme; this is for somebody else." The guyswere starting to celebrate and we were go-ing to meet again in two weeks. The key-board player, after our partying for awhile, walked to the keyboards, played thesong at about a quarter of the tempo, andpretty soon, one by one, everybody joinedin. Val gave Kim a mic'—she was standingright next to the drums with a hand mic';screw leakage and all that s tuff—weplayed the song one time at 4:00 in themorning and that was chills. You weretalking about crying on the Dylan track—that was unbelievable. That was a magicmoment.Vinnie: Everybody had that collectivevibe, right? As opposed to burning out bydoing it 20 times.Craig: One takers are the ones that standout.

Jim Keltner , Jeff Porcaro, Rick Marotta,Vinnie Colaiuta, Craig Krampf


T he beginning of a new year is an ex-cellent time to evaluate your cur-rent financial arrangements, with

an eye to your income tax preparation. It 'san opportunity to review last year in termsof your job status, your tax status, yourexpenses (how you kept track of them andhow you chose to report them) and yourpersonal method of organizing all of thatinformation into an efficient and economi-cally favorable accounting system. It maybe a lit t le late to make any changes for lastyear's tax return, but it's a great opportu-nity to make improvements and incorpo-rate new ideas for this coming year.

I am not a certified public accountant,tax preparer, or representative of the IRS.Modern Drummer is not attempting togive you definitive or final information onyour personal tax preparation. It is wise toseek professional assistance when prepar-ing your taxes, and even when setting upyour own personal tax accounting system.That assistance can come from someoneyou engage, such as a CPA or certified taxpreparer, or in some cases directly fromthe IRS (in the form of reference publica-tions, telephone question lines, etc.). Thepreparation of a tax system and the actualfiling of tax returns are very individual andpersonal matters. Tax regulations are opento interpretation depending on facts andcircumstances. You'll get different opin-ions from different preparers, and evenfrom different IRS representatives. Thebest thing you can do is to find a profes-sional person whose abilities and judgmentyou have confidence in, and whose attitudetowards the preparation of your return re-flects your own. Some are more aggressivethan others in their interpretation of de-ductible expenses, depreciation factors,and other regulations that may save youtax dollars. What I hope to give you in this

clare themselves as self-employed contrac-tors. Another consideration is that, if youwork on a short-term basis for severalleaders (i.e., doing casuals), being pay-rolled by each of them can be complicated,since each must provide a W-2 at year end,compounding the risk of error in the finalfiguring at tax time.

2. Partnership Status. This sets up thewhole band as a sort of "corporate entity"responsible for one total tax figure basedon the total gross income and using thebusiness-related expenses of all the mem-bers combined into one partnership-ex-pense figure. The partnership must file anannual return (Form 1065) taking the grossincome of the partnership, less the ex-penses of the partnership, and showing afinal net income or loss. The partnership asa whole then distributes its net income (orloss) to each partner. Each individual part-ner receives a Form 1065 K-l reporting hisor her share of that net income. If the part-nership has net income, each partner'sshare is added into the gross personal in-come figure on his or her personal return(Form 1040). As an individual, the partnerwill also file a Schedule E (SupplementalIncome Schedule) showing the partnershipincome for income tax purposes, and aSchedule SE for Self-Employment tax,which is how a self-employed person paystowards Social Security. Partners may berequired to file quarterly estimated tax re-turns.

As a member of the partnership, youwould submit all your business-related ex-penses to your accountant. All expensesfrom all of the partners are combined tocreate the partnership expenses as a whole,and figured against the partnership 'sgross. The advantage is that even if youpersonally didn't have a lot of expenses,another member might and you stand togain as a member of the partnership. Thereis a certain potential for problems in thepreparation when one or more members ofthe partnership don't have their own re-cord-keeping in good order, and the part-nership as a whole must wait for (or lose)certain expense information. Also, if anymember gives fraudulent information, itautomatically affects all the other mem-bers, even though they may be unaware ofthe fraud. A partnership system in a bandrequires mutual cooperation and trust be-tween all members.

3. Sole Proprietor (Self-Employed Con-tractor) Status. This sets you up as an indi-vidual business in and of yourself. Youthen contract out to the club, to the band-leader, or even to the other members of theband if they happen to be a partnership.You are totally responsible for reportingyour gross income, your own expenses,and thus your net income or loss from yourbusiness. You'll do this on Schedule C ofForm 1040. If your business has net in-come, it becomes part of your personalgross income on your personal return

article is some general information and afew tips about expenses that you might nothave known could be deductible. Again,for final authority, go to a professional orto the source—the IRS.

The first thing to do when setting upyour personal tax system is to define yourjob status as defined by the IRS. For a promusician, this will probably fall into one ofthree categories: Employee, Partnership,or Sole Proprietor (Self-employed). Sincemusicians often change jobs within a year,it's a good idea to be aware of what eachcategory entails tax-wise. You may wish tochange your status should the opportunitypresent itself. If you are currently an em-ployee and you join a new band just gettingtogether, you may wish to organize thatband as a partnership or as individuallyself-employed contractors. You may join aband already set up as a partnership and beasked to become a partner. At one time Iworked as a self-employed contractor un-der contract to a partnership. Let me ex-plain the basic differences.

1. Employee Status. This is the simplestway to go in terms of tax reporting. Youare employed by either your bandleader orthe club. You will file a W-4 with your em-ployer declaring your exemptions, and theemployer will take out withholding to-wards your taxes. At the end of the year theemployer will give you a W-2 form, show-ing your gross income, taxes withheld, So-cial Security (F.I.C.A.) tax paid, etc. Youfile your individual return annually (Form1040) showing your income, and itemizingyour expenses if you so desire on ScheduleA and certain other forms. Generally, youremployer is required by federal and locallaws to match certain deductions fromyour check towards your Social Security,State Disability Insurance (SDI), etc. Ifyou work for one club or one leader on along-term basis, Employee status is fine,simple, and easy to account for. The onlyproblem comes when the bandleader is notconscientious in handling withholding orthe payment of matching benefits. I knowof several back-taxes suits and unemploy-ment claims against irresponsible leaders.In self-defense, many bandleaders todaychoose not to handle their own payroll, butinstead require their band members to de-

Job and Tax Status

(1040). If your business has a net loss, itcan be set against other income when figur-ing your gross personal income total. Thiscan be helpful if you have another job inaddition to playing drums, as it reducesyour personal gross income for reportingpurposes. Being self-employed gives youthe advantage of complete control overyour financial arrangements. The peopleyou contract to simply give you an ac-counting of the gross amount they payyou—usually a Form 1099 miscellaneousincome report—or you keep your receiptsand invoices and report the gross yourself.Then all of your business-related expensesare applied against that gross to get yournet business income. If that is your onlysource of income, then that net businessincome becomes your gross personal in-come, which your personal expenses, in-cluding medical, deductible interest, childcare, etc., are applied against. Net businessprofit is shown on Schedule C for incometax purposes, and once again you'll be lia-ble for Self-Employment Tax as reportedon Schedule SE. You may also be requiredto file quarterly estimated tax returns.

Deductions

The interpretation of tax regulationspertinent to eligible deductions is a per-sonal and individual matter. I don't hopeto list all of the possible expenses youmight be able to deduct. But the list thatfollows will give you some suggestions thatmight make you think about your own ex-penses, and also might offer some catego-ries you may previously have overlooked.As far as the reporting of eligible expensesgoes, there's no particular advantage toone job status versus the others. If you areemployed by a bandleader, you may beable to itemize just as many deductions asyou would if you were a self-employedcontractor. It depends on what expensesyou actually incur. If , however, you areself-employed, and especially if you are thebandleader and are paying out to others,you might be able to list some expensesthat an employee would not, simply be-cause you will be likely to incur some ex-penses that he or she would not, such asaccounting, advertising, employee payrolltaxes and benefits, etc.' The list of expenses below is for refer-ence. Any given person may or may not beeligible for a given expense, depending onthe job status, and how the expense can bejustified. A very important rule of thumb isto keep your documentation for every-thing. Keep receipts, invoices, canceledchecks, or anything that will verify yourincome and expenses. You need to be ableto report your gross income accurately,and you must be able to document eachand every reported expense. My philoso-phy has always been that it's better to go tothe accountant with too many accumu-lated papers that will later be thrown away

as useless, than not to be able to verify alegitimate deduction. Take all receipts to aqualified tax preparer and let that personhelp you decide, if you aren't sure. The taxpreparer should be up on the latest taxlaws. You can always check directly withIRS as well. Here's the reference list:

1. Accounting. The nice thing about go-ing to a tax preparer for expert assistanceon your return is that this expense is de-ductible on the next year's return. If youpay an accountant for other services dur-ing the current tax year, that expenseshould be listed in the year paid.

2. Advertising/Promotion. If you payto have flyers, table tents, business cards,mailers, photos or posters made, or forany other type of promotion for yourselfor your band, that expense should be listedunder this heading.

3. Alarm Service. If you have a businesslocation, such as a storage garage used ex-clusively to store your equipment when noton stage, or perhaps a rehearsal studio, it ispossible that any alarm equipment you in-stall might be a deduction. Payment for asecurity service might also be a deductibleexpense. You might be able to list an alarminstalled into your business vehicle, if youdeclare your vehicle as such.

4. Answering Service. If you pay for aservice to take calls pertaining to bookingwork for you, whether as a band or a ca-sual player, that should be listed. The pur-chase of an answering machine might alsobe listed, though only a percentage can betaken for business use if you also take per-sonal calls on it.

5. Auto and Truck. If you declare a vehi-cle as a business vehicle, in whole or inpart, then expenses relative to that vehicleshould be listed (in the same proportion).There might be a depreciation factor to belisted, in addition to the interest on pay-ments. Fuel and/or mileage to jobs can betaken by self-employed contractors goingbetween their place of business (generallyyour home, in a drummer's case) and a jobsite. Employees, however, cannot deductthe cost of commuting to and from work.Seek advice on how that might apply toyou.

6. Bad Debts and Bad Checks. If you arepaid by check, you declare that checkamount in your gross income, and then thecheck bounces, you can deduct thatamount. If the bad check is discovered be-fore you declare for that period and yousimply do not include it in your gross in-come total, then you cannot declare it as aloss. Unfortunately, you cannot take a de-duction for a bad check, even though youperformed the work for which it was ten-dered.

7. Bank Charges. If you maintain a busi-ness account separate from your personalchecking account, you may list all of thebank charges, including service charges,check printing, etc. If you do your businessbanking as part of your personal checking,

you might be able to figure a percentage ofthe bank charges as part of your businessexpenses, but this method is a little less ex-act.

8. Commissions. If you report yourgross income before any agent or man-ager's commission is subtracted, you canreport such commission as an expense. Ifyou report your gross as the amount youactually made after the manager's cut, youcannot list the commission as an expense.

9. Delivery Charges. If you order someequipment and pay COD, you might beable to list the delivery charge as an ex-pense.

10. Dues. Annual and work dues paid toany union (AFM, AGVA, AFTRA, etc.)or to any professional organization or so-ciety (ASCAP, BMI, PAS) should belisted.

11. Education. Private lessons or scho-lastic situations like P.I.T. would comeunder this heading, as would attendance attrade shows, clinics, seminars, PAS con-ventions, and the like requiring paid ad-mission. Also included might be the pur-chase of music texts and Music-Minus-Onerecords. There is a question of interpreta-tion here regarding education to further orimprove one's abilities in one's business,which is deductible, versus that educationor training necessary to meet the basic re-quirements of one's profession, which isnot.

12. Employee Benefits. If you are thebandleader acting as a self-employed con-tractor and handling the taxes for your em-ployees, the benefits you provide for them,such as pension payments, medical plans,paid vacations, etc., would be shown here.The actual taxes you contribute on theirbehalf are listed elsewhere.

13. Entertainment. This would includeany reasonable expense you incur to enter-tain potential clients, such as room man-agers, booking agents, etc. "Reasonable"is open to interpretation, and this is a com-mon target for auditors.

14. Equipment Rental. This is fairlyself-explanatory. If you need to rent equip-ment to do your work, that is a businessexpense. Rental of a drumset or a P.A. sys-tem would be a good example. Rental of afurniture dolly or trailer to move yourequipment around from job to job wouldbe another.

15. Equipment—Miscellaneous. Thiscould be a large category if you are addingto your equipment quite a bit. "Equip-ment" refers to long-life items, such asdrums, hardware, cymbals, amps, micro-phones, etc., and these are all considereddepreciable items. The IRS defines a depre-ciable item as meeting the following threerequirements: (1) It must be used in busi-ness or held for the production of income.(2) It must have a determinable life andthat life must be longer than one year. (3) Itmust be something that wears out, decays,

Pho

to b

y Pau

la S

taro

n/Fo

cus

Pho

togr

aphy

D uke Ellington is credited withgrouping all music into two cate-gories: good and bad. A nd as hu-

morous as it might be to envision recordshops with all the records dumped intoeither a "good" bin or a "bad" bin, Idon't foresee that change in the near fu-ture. Let's leave it up to our ears.

Marketing people need categories.There's nothing inherently wrong withthat, and categorizing products is not iso-lated to the recording industry. You won'tfind guitars advertised in Modern Drum-mer and you won't find drums advertisedin Guitar Player. That's good businesssense. Marketing people and advertiserswant to reach the people who are most aptto buy their product.

Still, the mercurial nature of music pre-vents it from being categorized as neatly asguitars or drums. I was an Assistant Man-ager at a record store in New York whenDeodato's 2001 album was released. Noone could decide which bin to keep it in."Is it jazz ? Is it rock ?" and so it goes.

There are also marketing venues forblack music and white music—soul chartsand pop charts. Some bands cross overinto both camps more than others.

I first met Jackie Santos when hisgroup, Tavares, was playing the Copaca-bana in New York City. The band was ex-cellent. A couple of weeks later Jackiecame over to my apartment and we tapedthis interview. Jackie Santos doesn't reallyfit—to his credit—in any musical cate-gory. He's a serious student of music, witha sense of humor, commitment, justice,and an ability to play all styles of musicwell.

JS: I knew Tavares before they wereTavares—when they were called Chubby &The Turnpikes. I was 15 years old. ChubbyTavares had come in one night where I wasworking. He knew I'd been playing drumsand he liked the way I played. He said,"Someday, you're going to be playingwith me." I never thought it would beTavares.

So, when the gig came up in '78, I wasworking at a club in Providence called TheEngine Company. I'd put a group togetherto back up one of the other brothers, Vic-tor Tavares. He wasn't with the five singersat that time. They called me right at theclub and said, "Look, you want the gig?"I said, "I'll take the gig!" Two weeks laterthey flew me out to Mexico City. That wasmy first gig.SF: Did Tavares have hit records out bythat time?JS: Oh yeah. They had "It Only Takes A

Minute." They'd just done that album,Saturday Night Fever with "More Than AWoman," and "Heaven Must Be MissingAn Angel." That was their biggest hi t . Itwent gold in every country.SF: Did you know their previous drum-mer?JS: Yeah. Bert Sims. He was doing all theold stuff. I've been doing extensive roadtraveling with Tavares since '78—Europe,South Africa and South America.SF: Has there been a big turnover inTavares since '78?JS: Only the keyboard and bass players.We hire horns at every city or country wepull into. We never carry a horn section.We just have a rhythm section, the fiveTavares brothers and two roadies.SF: In any given year with Tavares, what'syour schedule?JS: My biggest years were '78, '79 and '80.I went everywhere. Things were happen-ing. Tavares was stil l hot. They had Satur-day Night Fever, "Heaven," was stil l pop-ping. But in '81 and '82 it started to godown because we didn't have a strong hi t .Capitol Records wasn't promoting theband. We had a lot of tunes out that werepotential hits. Capitol never put the moneybehind us to support the tunes. The tunesmade it because we supported them byworking.

Tavares decided to change companiesand management, and things are happen-ing again. We're with RCA Records now.We've got a single called "Penny For YourThoughts," which was nominated for aGrammy. Things are on the up now.SF: What was the last manager not doingthat caused the group to switch?JS: It seemed like he took Tavares to a cer-tain point and couldn't take it any further.SF: Is the manager the go-between forTavares and the record company?JS: Exactly. He also gets gigs. We weren'tworking at all. I had five months off onetime. We did six weeks in Africa and thenthere were five months without work.SF: People believe that once you have analbum out it's smooth sailing.JS: It doesn't happen l ike that all the time.If you put out a hit , you've got to have twoor three backing that one up to really makethe money and do big tours. One recordjust doesn't make i t . You sink all yourmoney into that one record. Then you putout two or three more, and you start mak-ing the profits.SF: Most of the money the band makesthen is from tours instead of record sales?JS: Well, it's a combination of the two.The tours promote the albums. Tavaresdoesn't pay me when we're not working.

That's why I 've got two or three bands athome that I work with. I manage to keepbusy in the Boston area. I've been doingsome things at Mid-Guard Studios, Di-mension Sound, Air Sound and Nor-mandy Sound in Warren, Rhode Island.Normandy is one of the top studios on theEast Coast. As far as clubs go, Boston isgenerally rock oriented now, but there area few jazz rooms. I could never figure itout. I'd th ink that people would want to goout and hear some jazz. I'm not saying thatrock is bad music. I love rock music. But ittakes a certain amount of musicianship toplay jazz and put your thoughts across.SF: Tell me about the work you do withArmstead Christian.JS: That's a great band: John Harrison onkeyboards, Tim Ingles on bass, Sa Davison congas and Armstead on vocals. We'reputting together an excellent album. I'malso working on an album project withAustralian artist Paul Almeida. His vocalability is excellent, and he also plays bassand keyboards. When he came to theStates, he asked me to contract the playersfor his album. Some of them include SteveSmith, Harvey Mason, John Harrison ofTavares, and Tim Ingles. We're lookingfor an album release in '84, followed by aworld tour.

I like to work with as many different mu-sicians as possible to grasp different feels.I've been playing with a lot of great musi-cians from home. The Steve Soares Quar-tet is an interesting group—all mainstreamjazz. John Harrison and I have been play-ing together since '75. We were in one bandcalled Bobby Green & Colius. At that time,I'd been working with a lot of disco bands.It was time for me to leave the disco andstart playing some music that gave mesome freedom of expression.

I was studying with Alan Dawson andcouldn't utilize anything I was learning ondisco gigs. I knew it was about time to uti-lize all I'd been learning, so I joined BobbyGreen & Colius, and the band was great.Tim Engles and Tim Landers were on bass.Tim Landers is with Billy Cobham now.Bobby Green was on sax and DannyShwartz was on percussion. The group wasmonstrous.

That gig was the best thing I ever didplaying-wise. I used all the things I learnedwith Alan and just played music. Playingdisco is four on the floor and "2" and "4"on the snare. I don't regret doing that but Iwanted to play the other stuff, in other timesignatures and just play some really hipmusic.SF: How are you going to balance your fu-ture career?

by Scott K. Fish

JS: I'd definitely l ike to get into more stu-dio things and hopefully get into a situa-tion like Harvey Mason and Gadd are in. Iwant to be able to do a lot of studio things,yet go out on the road when I want to. Idon't want to just stay in the studio. I'vedone quite a few jingles, mostly for thingsback home. The more studio things I do,the better I get at it.SF: What's the difference between workingin the studio and playing live?JS: It's a whole different approach. Thepressure's different. I like to do things intwo or three takes, and it takes a lot of con-centration to be able to do that. In the stu-dio, mistakes are money. It 's a lot of disci-pline. If you're playing a funk tune, you'vegot to be able to make that thing rocksolid, yet make it swing and feel good. Andyour reading ability has got to be up there.

When I first started playing, my readingwas never there. But, since I've gotten to-gether with Alan—I did five years withhim—my reading is there! I can go in anddo a studio gig without worrying about ifthe chart is going to be hard, or if I canhandle it. I can handle it .

Armstead's music is pretty rough. Hegives out charts. He writes all the music.He's a great player and a great vocalist.When he writes a drum chart, he's right oni t . There are no mistakes. Alan's been thegreatest influence in my musical career.His playing is phenomenal and he takesdrumming to another dimension. He's myfavorite player and a great friend also. Hebases most of his teaching on four-way co-ordination—really great stuff. He had me

going through Ted Reed's Syncopationbook 48 ways, like it was Ted Reed's Syn-copation by Alan Dawson.SF: What's the sense in learning four-waycoordination if you're going to be concen-trating on music that basically demands a"2" and "4" backbeat?JS: That stuff is good to have in your backpocket so that if you do need it, it 's there.Half of the things you learn with Alanyou're probably not going to use, but whenyou do a gig that calls for it, it's there. Itgives you a lot more confidence than justbeing able to play "2" and "4."

I can go on a Tavares gig and groove thegig; go back home and do a swing gig, afusion gig, and cover all styles. A musicianshould be as versatile as possible. You'remore valuable that way. You'll make moremoney. You'll be on call more. When I goback home, I get called for all kinds ofgigs. When I 'm with Tavares, I collect asalary, but when I go back home, I canmake a living also.SF: Does Alan work on ear training?JS: I didn't go through any ear trainingcourses with him. It was primarily drumsetplaying. I wanted to take up vibes. I wastaking an hour lesson with him and Iwanted to devote all my time to my tubs.But I want to get into vibes and get my earhappening.SF: Doesn't he train your ear by havingyou play drumset melodically?JS: Oh yeah, and he also makes you awareof the forms of tunes.SF: Did you know that before you startedstudying with Alan?

JS: No. It gives you a better outlook onhow the tune should go. Plus, when you'resoloing off the melody of the tune, youcome up with more ideas. It's not justchops or a blundering of notes. It 's playingmusically. You've got that melody going inyour head and the melody's your time.Therefore, you can take your licks acrossthe bar line and still be there. Knowingsong form is very vital to your drumming.Otherwise you will just play the tune butyou won't know where it's going.SF: Here's a morale question. You've beenwith Tavares since '78 touring all over theplace. Yet, when the band goes in to makea record, they use studio musicians. Theyused John Robinson on the last album.How does that make you feel, and how dothe singers keep your morale up?JS: Well, in the last few months, they'vebeen trying to keep it up! I've been withTavares for five years now and I've beentrying to get into the studio. And I can han-dle it.

See, Butch Tavares is the only brotherwho writes. But they hire writers and pro-ducers. I f you were producing a band,you'd want to use the rhythm section thatyou were comfortable with. You wouldn'twant to hire somebody if you didn't knowwhat type of feel they had or how theycould handle studio situations. Producershave their own people. It 's a hard thing tocrack, but I'm on the new Words and Mu-sic album. Tavares has a great rhythm sec-tion of John Harrison on keyboards,Kenny Ramus on bass and Hank Smith onguitar. The band is great, and they can de-finitely go in and cut the albums. It justneeds that ini t ia l shot to do it.

It's a hard thing. You're doing the gigs,you're doing the road stint, you're doingthe rehearsing and you want to do the al-bums. When the album's not there, it kindof brings you down because you knowyou're capable of going in and doing what-ever John Robinson's doing.SF: If you've been playing the songs on thegig, John Robinson's not going to go inand play it 180 degrees different from whatyou were doing.JS: Exactly. You're just playing the chartdown, and how many ways can you play arhythm and blues chart? It just takes inter-pretation and feel. Our rhythm sectionknows what Tavares wants, so it wouldmake it easier to work with them in the stu-dio.SF: You're backing up five singers; none ofthem are instrumentalists. You were tellingme about onstage situations where onesinger will be telling you to bring up thevolume at the exact moment another singer

Pho

tos

by P

aula S

taro

n/Fo

cus

Pho

togr

aphy

Photo

by P

aula S

taro

n/Fo

cus

Photog

raph

y

I'd like to introduce you to a rhythm I call Latin funk. The name suggests the typeof feel. Though the rhythm below is for right hand on cymbal and left on snaredrum, the pattern may also be reversed (R.H. snare, L.H. cymbal).

A couple of other ideas for playing the Latin funk beat:1) R.H. on hi-hat, L.H. on snare, open hi-hat on the "and" of "2" and "4."2) Play top two lines on cowbell and snare drum.

Be sure to get a good balance between all four limbs. Practice at different temposuntil the pattern becomes comfortable and has a nice, relaxed feel.

is telling you to play quieter. How do youhandle that?JS: Oh, I get that all the time. Workingwith singers is hard. Period. They're tem-permental. Now I've got five of them.We've done concerts where one of thebrothers will want the tune done quicker.

I've got a pretty fair knowledge of wherethe tune should be, but the adrenalin'sflowing different every night. One brothermight say, "Pick it up." So I pick the tuneup. And then on the other side a brotherwill say, "Bring it back down again."Then another will say, "No. Leave it rightwhere it's at." So you don't know where togo! It takes a special kind of drummer todo a Tavares gig. When I first got in theband it was nerve-wracking, but I ad-justed.

SF: What do you do when you get threedifferent instructions for the tempo of asong?JS: I just leave it right where it's at. Thetempos are never really that far off. Even ifit's a hair slow or fast, it's never so far offthat we can't groove with it. But you've gotto keep your eyes peeled all the time. I'vegot to break out of playing with my eyesclosed!

But, as a band, Tavares is great. I had alot of chops and I was into playing a lot ofnotes at one time. Doing the Tavares gigsettled me down a bit in the areas of disci-pline and being able to lock in "2" and"4" and groove. It's a good thing to havethat, and yet, it's good to have the chopstogether to play a fusion gig or a jazz gig. Ilove to groove. And Tavares puts out some

great music. When you've got a band thatfeels " 1" at the same time and can make itpop, it makes it that much easier. TheTavares brothers are all great singers.Great harmony. It's an interesting gig.SF: Has your ability to keep time alwaysbeen good?JS: I used to have a problem rushing.Again, when you try to play so many notesin one bar, you're going to tend to rush. Iwas definitely into flash playing. My firstinspiration was Buddy Rich. I used to lis-ten to all his albums and I was into playinga lot of notes. It just didn't happen; mytiming was never there. I had to put halfmy chops in my back pocket and settledown and concentrate on grooving.SF: What's the secret of keeping goodtime? How is it developed?JS: Well, Alan Dawson had me workingwith a metronome a lot. Just being con-scious of time and hitting beat "1" righton it. If you do that, then it automaticallysettles in. Your timing is there after awhile. I don't like to work with a metro-nome too much because your time couldbecome mechanical. But a fair amount ofit would be good.SF: There's the argument that workingwith a metronome isn't realistic becauseyou don't have it on the bandstand.JS: Yeah. You've got to be flexible. I usedto practice on grooves, just make it swingas much as possible and lay right in therewith and without a metronome. Use themetronome to develop your time sense,

Latin Funk Tips by Jackie Santos

Pho

to b

y Pau

la S

laro

n/Fo

cus

Pho

togr

aphy

Practicing With RecordsWhen I was a young drummer, practicingwith records was very difficult. Head-phones and stereo sets were not available. Iwould turn up the volume on my small rec-ord player to the point where I could hear itover the volume of my drumset. I must ad-mit that this was not a very satisfactoryway to practice. I could not play naturallyand still hear the music.

I have heard the comment that "it is notgood to practice with records. You shouldnot follow the band. You should, instead,establish the time yourself." However,Phil Upchurch, the great guitarist and bassplayer, has a different view. (Phil alsoplays drums surprisingly well.) He feelsthat too many young drummers play with-out listening to what is going on aroundthem. Phil's attitude is that a good drum-mer has to play with other musicians.Practicing with records can be an excellentway to develop and improve l is teningskills. It, in turn, helps you learn to play

with the rest of the rhythm section.Practicing with the same record a num-

ber of times gives you a chance to learn thesong and the arrangement. As you learn asong, your "feel" for that particulargroove should improve.

I've had students who practiced with theradio. The problem here is two-fold. Firstof all, you cannot go back and rehearse aparticular part of the song. You only haveone chance at it. Secondly, there are a lotof good songs of all styles available on rec-ords that are rarely played on most radiostations, especially AM radio.

One of the problems of practicing with-out records is that the skills of accompany-ing other musicians may be neglected.Playing fast tempos is a good example.Technical practicing will develop goodoverall technique, but the coordination re-quired to play fast tempos is somewhatspecialized.

When I joined Joe Bushkin's trio some

years ago, I was faced with the problem ofplaying fast as well as softly. I knew ofJoe's playing and I prepared myself for theaudition by practicing with a number offast records, using both sticks and brushes.At the audition, Joe and I played alone,without even a bass player. This made ittougher for me. I passed the audition andgot the job. I was very glad that I was pre-pared and had practiced with records.

TIPS ON PRACTICING WITHRECORDS

1. Studio recordings as a rule are stead-ier in terms of tempo than live recordings.People do get excited in front of an audi-ence and tempos will vary. In a studio, themusicians have an opportunity to do anumber of takes until everything is justright, including the time. Therefore it isbest, overall, to practice with studio re-cordings.

2. Select various tunes from a numberof albums and record them on tape. Thiseliminates the hassle of changing recordsand disturbing the practice.

3. If playing with the sound of anotherdrummer disturbs you, turn the bass upand the treble down. You will hear morebass and can concentrate on really "lock-ing in" with the bass player.

4. If you have difficulty staying in timewith the record, your time may not be toosteady. Playing with records can improveyour sense of tempo and can teach you to"keep it in the pocket."

5. Practice with a variety of styles, tem-pos and grooves. Don't only practice to re-cordings by your favorite drummer. Don'tget stuck on only one kind of music, espe-cially when you are on the way up. Learnto be flexible and versatile.

6. Update your practice tapes every fewmonths. Pretty soon you will have a smalllibrary of practice tapes. When you prac-tice, alternate the tapes according to whatyou are working on at the time.

7. Practicing with records is one way tolearn and to improve. It is not a substitutefor playing with other musicians. In fact, itis preparation for playing with other musi-cians. All forms of practicing should pre-pare you to play well with a group or band.

One last thought! When you practicewith good recordings, you are practicingwith the world's best musicians. This hasto help you.

by Roy Burns

Larry Mullen plays drums with the very popular three-pieceband, U2. Larry and bassist Adam Clayton lay down a solid foun-dation for the guitar. U2 is a prime example of a drummer and bassplayer working together as a unit. The bass drum and bass guitaroften play the same rhythmic patterns. While they may be simplequarter- or 8th-note patterns, the rhythms are always driving.

The first four examples are taken from the hit album War. Onthe first example, "Sunday Bloody Sunday," Larry plays a 16th-note hi-hat rhythm with accents on the snare. This is underscoredby a steady quarter-note bass drum. The feeling here is driving, yetrelaxed. The rhythm is allowed to "breathe," as opposed to beingplayed stiffly.

1. Intro 3 times

Style and Analysis:U2's Larry Mullen

Transcription #2 is taken from "Seconds." The bass drum is notmuffled. This open sound, along with a loose, fat sounding snare,gives a fullness to the drums.

This next one is from the hit single "New Years Day." This is a driving song where the bass drum and bass guitar work together.

Number 4 is "Drowning Man." Larry plays an open bass drum and brushes on the snare. He plays a repetitive three-bar phrase in 4/4,while the bass plays a two-bar phrase in 6.

Pho

to b

y Anton

Cor

bijn

The next three examples are from the October album. "Fire"shows all three instruments working together rhythmically.

On "With A Shout," the beat is played on the toms and againworks well with the bass guitar.

On "I Threw A Brick Through A Window," the rhythm stays very basic, while the snare shifts the accents.

by Michael Bettine

Teaching Roll PulsationsOver the years, I've had many students complain about their in-abi l i ty to fit different bass drum rhythms with their snare drumrolls. The problem is usually caused by a lack of knowledge of rollpulsations. Most drummers use roll pulsations all the time, but arejust not aware of them.

A roll pulsation is the foundation of the single-hand motions onwhich the long roll is based, and is dependent upon the tempo ofthe piece being played. For instance, let's take a look at the follow-

How many strokes or taps would you say fit into the quarter-noteroll above? If you said "Nine," you would probably be in themajority. The nine would fit, but it could also be played as a five-, aseven-, a thirteen-, or even a seventeen-stroke roll!

Let's assume we're playing at a tempo where a quarter noteequals approximately 60 beats per minute. This is a rather slowtempo so you'll need quite a few taps to fil l up the space from oneto two. If we use a roll pulsation based on 32nd notes we willhave this:

Now, if we put a slash across each note, it means tha t each note wil lbe played as a multiple-bounce stroke, giving us the following:

If you count the number of notes, you'l l notice that we have aseventeen-stroke roll.

Let's suppose we move our tempo up a l i t t l e so that a quarternote equals 80. Since our tempo is a bit faster, we won't need asmany notes to fill up the space. We can now base our roll on this

This is a 16-note t r ip le t roll pulsation. Let's put some slashes acrosseach note to come up with the following:

Let's now move our tempo up a few more notches to where aquarter note equals about 112. Again, since our tempo is faster, weneed fewer notes.

At a tempo where the quarter note equals about 144, we'll use aroll pulsation based on the 8th-note triplet . It wil l look like this:

Put t ing the slashes across the notes gives us this:

Our final tempo wil l be quarter note equals about 200. At thistempo, the notes wil l be going by l i ke signs on the expressway at 80miles per hour, so be extremely careful wi th your reading. Ourpulsation is short and sweet. I t looks l ike this :

With the slashes, we now have:

Do you see what we've done? After s t a r t i ng out wi th a seven-teen-stroke roll, we've moved our tempo up to a speed where theonly roll that fits is a five stroke. Knowing about roll pulsationsshould also make it easier for you to coordinate different bassdrum rhy thms with your snare drum roll.

Students involved in Drum Corps or Marching Band shouldhave a good understanding of roll pulsations. Any time there aretwo or more drummers ro l l ing , i t ' s important that they use thesame pulsation. Otherwise, the sound is comparable to playing twoadjacent notes on a piano. There's a clash.

Students who have problems mastering roll pulsations shouldreverse the order in which they're writ ten. Start wi th Example 5and work backwards. Start ing wi th a shorter group of notes mayprove easier. Practice the routines slowly unti l they feel comfort-

ing measure in 4/4 time:

pulsation:

able.

Now we're going to arrive at the nine-stroke roll mentioned earlier.

by John Bock

The Cruise-Ship DrummerWorking as a drummer on a cruise ship canoffer a combination of the best at tr ibutesof road and location jobs. In addition toexperiencing the luxury of not having topack and unpack instruments and suit-cases more than once, you will have the op-po r t un i t y to v is i t different and exoticplaces on an almost daily basis. One cruisecompany may boast the greatest numberof stops per cruise, another may offerplaces to escape civilization, while a thi rdmight offer three- or four-day gamblingfestivals. Many natural ly beaut i ful desti-nations are selected as ports of call, anddespite the dearth of man-made entertain-ment and distractions, some of the mostenduring memories come from these re-markable places.

GETTING WORK

The best way to obtain a job on a cruiseship is by recommendation. If th is is notpossible, the most efficient way of gettinginvolved in this type of work is to visit the

cities where cruise companies have offices,and show the entertainment directors thatyou are interested and avai lable . Ofcourse, this doesn't always work becausesome of the major cruise companies hireforeign players exclusively. American mu-sicians have lost favor with many cruisecompanies, partly due to the companies'abi l i ty to hire good, reliable foreign play-ers. However, the cities where one is mostl ikely to find employment are Miami, FortLauderdale, New York, Los Angeles, NewOrleans and San Francisco. The salary of-fered by most companies is comparable tothe salary offered by clubs, wi th room andboard provided in addition to the basicpay.

Some ships hire self-contained rockgroups for the younger cruisers (late teensthrough 40's). However, the majority ofpassengers are a l i t t le older than that sim-ply because cruises can be expensive. Theexceptions to this, of course, are the activ-ity-filled "singles" cruises which appealprimarily to the 20- to 30-year-old agegroup. The average cruise is a week long;however, the length of a cruise can rangefrom three weeks to three months.

ON THE JOB

The bottom line for a drummer is theabili ty to play shows which differ from shipto ship. On one ship, the band may be ex-pected to play everything from disco to De-bussy during the course of a single show.On another, Broadway-style shows tai-lored to cruise audiences may prevail. Thekinds of entertainers to be accompaniedcan vary from recognizable names to themost amateurish imaginable.

Possibly the most interesting and de-manding shows are the musical acts.Though the charts are not always first rate,the performers do know what they wantand will usually express themselves musi-cally. After playing these acts once ortwice, the music soon becomes entertain-ing for the band, as well. Rehearsals forthe evening's show are generally handledduring the daytime hours when the ship isdocked, and the passengers are in town orsunning themselves on the deck.

Nearly all ship activity schedules havegame nights when background music ap-propr i a t e to races or par ty games isneeded. Background music is also neces-sary for crew nights when staff members

display their talents. The cruise directoroften relies on the band for the success ofcertain activities. Songs relevant to the oc-casion are essential. Important ingredientsof a masquerade, for instance, are the mu-sicians' speed and cleverness in matchingtunes to costumes. Also, on the night be-fore arrival at, say, a Caribbean port, ca-lypso- or reggae-style music is needed tocreate a timely ambience.

PROS AND CONS

Since all situations have good and badelements, one should be aware of the prob-lems inherent in this life-style. People whocannot tolerate confinement should notconsider sailing. Alcoholism is exacer-bated, personality differences are ampli-fied, and cruise-ship companies usuallyhave rules on the books, some of whichclearly define a musician's social status off ,the bandstand. Remember, a ship at sea isa self-contained community. It is under-standably important to have regulations inorder to run a ship, but some companieshave a tendency to apply them qui testrictly. Be prepared for possible restric-tions against fraternizing with passengers,or in some cases, even talking to them.Certain decks may be out of bounds aswell. The more liberal companies are cer-tainly more pleasurable to work for.

People reminiscing about their vacationalso often mention the abundance andquality of food as the focal point of theircruise-ship experience. Being around allthat good food does entice one to addinches to the waistline, so good senseshould reign.

On the brighter side, there are manynon-scheduled hours dur ing each daywhich allow ample time for practice andstudy. It 's easy to take out a practice pad inyour room, unless your roommate objects.Also, the three or four lounges on the shipallow access to drumsets almost all thetime. Valuable set practice is often possibleunless it interferes with lectures, films,bingo, afternoon teas, arts and crafts, orof course, show rehearsals.

The cruise-ship drummer often has thevery best of both worlds, since this situa-tion combines practice, playing a varietyof music daily, and obtaining valuable mu-sical experience with sun, fresh air, and theopportunity to travel the world in style.Bon voyage!

by Jerry Bogner

off the job. And here would come anotherdrummer who would push me off the job.Then I met the greatest drummer who everlived, who made me what I am today, afellow by the name of Manzie Campbell,who played with the Siles Green show. Hecould take one stick and roll ten blockswith a field drum, just with one hand. Hecould make a roll that was like tissue pa-per.

"I was Chicken Little. I was smarterthan they were. Don't tell me nothing.Now I have met people that traveled thewhole world. They've been everywhere,and they tried to tell me, but I knew. Mr.Manzie Campbell told me how to learn toplay drums, because I was trying to emu-late the popular drummers in the territory Iwas in, and as far as I was concerned, thiswas my world. When I got to Omaha, Ne-braska, I had made it. I wasn't going to gonowhere. Years later I did a faux pas. Imade a boo boo. I did something wrongand this man, Manzie Campbell, came upand sat down at the drums where I wasplaying and he said, 'Son, you might gofar. Don't make this mistake no more.' "

During this period Jo had occasion tomake his first recording wi th LloydHunter's serenaders in Chicago in June of1931, for Vocalion, producing the titles"Sensational Mood" and "Dreaming'Bout My Man" (with Victoria Spivey).These recordings stand as the very first ex-amples of a drummer making melodic,

syncopated use of tom-toms on record (al-though Gene Krupa had used toms on hisrecording of "Dinah" with Red Nichols in1929, he was st i l l using them primarily forplaying t ime, whereas Jo was beginning touse them for fills and orchestral colors,jumping in and out of time, pausing onlyto catch a cymbal in his hand for splasheffects). "We were trying to play like Mc-Kinney's Cotton Pickers on those records,and I ' l l always be grateful to Mr. HenriWood for the exposure he gave me to ar-ranging, orchestration and voicing withthat ten-piece band. He was really some-thing. That man was always writ ing on theroad, without a piano. We'd be doingthese one-nighters, and he'd be using thebed as a piano, just writing and singing. Ithought he was going crazy, but I watchedhim and he conveyed many important les-sons to me in ear training.

"I learned from everyone, and I alwaystried to hang out and pick up as much in-formation as I could. You had to playevery kind of music with these territorybands, so I would find these guys thatknew. Ely Rice and his son Sylvester Ricewould put on a show, and they had allthese bells up there. They had dancers andsingers too. Sylvester Rice would conducthis father's orchestra, and he was the causefor me narrowing down and concentratingon the drums. During that time, I learnedhow to play a waltz by fooling around withLawrence Welk in Minneapolis. You thinkLawrence Welk is funny young man? Let

me tell you something. Back then Law-rence Welk had the biggest little band inAmerica, which played from Omaha toWitchita Falls and stayed booked. Oncewe had a battle of the bands—LawrenceWelk and Bennie Moten. We had 15pieces; he had six. After we got throughplaying, Lawrence calls out "Tiger Rag,"you know what I mean, and points to thiscat who gets up and solos on two trumpets!That was his way of telling us, 'Here'ssome "Tiger Rag" for you.' "

Of course, today we remember Law-rence Welk mainly as a prime-time curios-ity, while the music that Jo Jones madewith Count Basie and company is still be-ing re-discovered by new listeners. How-ever, it is unlikely that we would haveheard any of these influential sounds if itwasn't for the influence of two very greatleaders, Bennie Moten and Walter Page.Certainly, as Jo pointed out to me on sev-eral occasions, there were an incrediblenumber of great musicians and bands cen-tered around Kansas City during this pe-riod; veterans of dance halls, ballroomsand competitive jam sessions; names likeGeorge E. Lee, Buster Smith, and DickWilson that elicit a fond smile of remem-brance among those who were there, whiledrawing a blank among contemporary au-diences. But by every account, the spiritualand artistic influence of Moten and Pagehas been enduring.

"Bennie Moten was the greatest band-leader that ever lived," Jo asserts withoutqualif icat ion. "He covered the wholesphere." In fact, in one of his more self-cri t ical moments, while listening to aCount Basie version of "Moten's Swing,"Jo characterized his own band as "a poorimitation of life, and they knew it, but theywere for real. Got the right people to imi-tate.

"Now Walter Page had a band, TheBlue Devils, that was the greatest band Iever heard in my life. Walter Page was myson and my father. He was the father of usall. Without Walter Page, you would neverhave heard of Hot Lips Page. You wouldnever have heard of Jimmy Rushing. Youwould never have heard of Basie. Youwould never have heard of Lester Young.You would never have heard of CharlieParker. You would never have heard of JoJones. Walter Page taught me how tophrase on the drums, taught me how todrop bombs . . . a beautiful man. The Big'Un, Walter Page. Now Walter Page hadthe Blue Devils, and eventually J immyRushing left him to join Bennie Moten;then Basie, then Hot Lips Page; then by1932 Walter Page joined Moten, too.When Walter Page gave up his band andjoined Moten along with Dan Minor andBuster Smith and what-have-you . . . thisis why the Basie rhythm section was so spe-cial. Because Bennie Moten played "1"and "3." Walter Page played on "2" and"4"; but when they wedded together you

Photo

by C

harle

s St

ewar

t

had "1, 2, 3, 4." The two mediums met,from the "1" and the "3" against the "2"and the "4," like a bouncing ball. MacWashington was the drummer with Mo-ten, and what they call 'bombs' now, hemade 'stumbles.' He made that connectionfrom the interlude to the chorus. Nobodycould drop in the bucket like him.

"When Bennie would hear the band allmessed up, the minute he put his hands onthe piano—just like Fats Waller,plump!—the whole thing settled. WhenBennie Moten sat down that's the onlytime I heard piano. I didn't hear no pianofrom Basie and Bus Moten. They was toobusy dr inking and hanging out wi thchicks. And Bennie would sit down andsay 'All right, fellows.' And when he satdown that band became something else."

Jo recalled that Bennie Moten and hisOrchestra came to New York City in 1930and 1932 and upset everybody. But the ec-onomic pressures were such that many ofhis top players were beginning to seek outmore gainful employment, and the hand-writing was already on the wall for his or-ganization when Bennie died suddenly.Meanwhile, in the heart of the Depression,Jo Jones was playing with a variety of ter-ritory bands, and at least one group of mu-sicians in a ten-piece band where "We allchanged uniforms, but it 's the same peopleand the same book. Whoever the gangsterthought should be the leader, said 'Fel-lows, we got a place to go.' And you justwent and changed your un i fo rm. Weworked like that for three years."

Jo found his way to Kansas City by wayof Jopl in , Missouri , and the TommyDouglass Band, where he replaced JessePrice on drums and sang. "TommyDouglass, you better believe, played saxo-phone and clarinet, and what Mr. BennyCarter was to the East, Tommy Douglasswas to the Midwest. He had a great bigopen sound.

"I joined them in Joplin. The job wentout. I came to Kansas City, played pianoand had my vibraphone. I wasn't going toplay any drums, and I only played two jobsin six weeks. I was playing a special dancewith Tommy Douglass, and Walter Pagecame up and sat in the band. He said,'How would you like to join Count Basie'sband?' I said, 'Sure.' I played one nightand quit.

"I played Topeka, Kansas, and theyplayed 'After You've Gone.' When HotLips Page got through playing, LesterYoung stood up and took the second cho-rus, and my heart went in my mouth—Idied. I went downstairs and refused to ac-cept my money. I said, 'I'm going back toOmaha to go back to school,' and Basiebegged me to stay. But that band had de-stroyed me. I said, 'I 'm not staying; I can'tplay with your band Mr. Basie.' They hadme in the washroom and wouldn't let me

out. I said, 'I'm picking up my drums be-cause I'm going back to school. I won't beplaying in no band.' And Hershel Evanssaid, 'You're crazy. You can play in thisband.' So I said, 'All right Mr. Basie, I willplay with you for two weeks until you finda drummer.' That lasted 14 years and I'mstill with him."

Jo joined Basie on St. Valentine's Day,1934. He recounted how Basie pawned hisbass drum for gasoline so they could makea gig at Sam Baker's in Little Rock, Arkan-sas. "I had a bass drum, about a 26 x 5,but I couldn't get the pliers to tighten it up.So they stopped the band, held up thewhole dance, and I had to haul it off thebandstand. I went over to a great big pot-bellied stove to heat it so it could tighten upand I could finish the dance. I had a cymbalthat's like a pot, pan and skillet. JimmyRushing used to sit around and say, 'Thatsounds good.' We were supposed to get$14 a week and I worked three weeks be-fore Basie gave me $5. I pulled out my pis-tol and I was going to shoot everybody. Isaid, 'What is this?' He said, 'Well, youtook Mac's place and he took $25. Youhave to pay his debt.' I died! You see, inthose days, when you joined the band no-body told you nothing. When you took an-other man's place, you were him, and if heowed anything, fine."

There were two great Basie bands Jo re-calls before the version that came to NewYork in December, 1936 to thril l dancers atthe Savoy Theatre and make records forWillard Alexander at MCA and later forJohn Hammond. With their improvised"head" arrangements, conversational riff-ing, and great soloists, the Basie band hadall the intimacy and subtlety of a smallgroup, but with a blaring, blues-drenched,house-rocking power and relaxation thathas yet to be equalled. With the addition ofMr. Rhythm Guitar, Freddie Greene, earlyin 1937, and their vocalists Jimmy Rushingand Billie Holiday (as documented on theJune 30, 1937 radio broadcast Count Basiea! the Savoy Ballroom on Everest), JoJones and friends achieved legendary stat-ure.

There isn't room here to detail furtherthe history and personnel of the Basieband, or to dwell on the unfortunate treat-ment Jo and Lester Young received at thehands of Uncle Sam in the Army from '44through early '46, and the sudden loss Josuffered with the passing of his first wifelater that year. But as an epilogue to thesedetails of Jo's early years, it is well worthnoting the underlying values that Jo creditswith making the All-American RhythmSection so special. "It takes a whole lot ofliving to do what we did. That's why I tellthese l i t t le kids that came after us not to tryto play like us, because that's impossible.We were having a conversation about ourlives. You weren't there; you can't know

what we were talking about. What I playedhad to do with who I rubbed elbows with—the Lester Youngs, the Hershel Evans, theBillie Holidays, the Buck Claytons. I justdid get to know these people. We playedwho we were at the time. You can't re-cre-ate that. You can't copy that. It could onlyhappen once. I didn't have to play a thing.All I was doing was sitting there listening. Ialways was an audience, and I will be anaudience as long as I live.

"It's very difficult to teach people howto play with people, not for people. Thekey word is understanding. We neverspoke a word to each other on the band-stand, and nobody spoke to us. Wefunctioned as one. We never played withthe band; we played with ourselves. Eachone of us had a personal life and we incor-porated that; the kinds of lives we lived,the people we reached out and touched. Ittakes a long time to learn how to functionas an individual. We brought that on thebandstand and we were strong enough togo through these things. Now I want you tounderstand that we started first spiritually.What it takes to get this spiritual ingredi-ent: You have to live this spiritual ingredi-ent. We lived spiritually! I don't believe inghosts, but there is a Supreme Being. He isthe force. He's the heart . . ."

T he first thing you learn with JoJones is not to ask any questions.As with his music, Jo has a habit of

circling back on himself, so that bread castupon the waters may yet come back on an-other wave. It's all very indirect and meta-phorical. He's always trying to convey atti-tudes, practical experiences and anecdotesto help you, as an individual, discover themeaning of music; by yourself and foryourself. There are lots of familiar apho-risms like "tune and tempo," a lot ofknowledge, but very few facts as such, atleast not the kind of nuts-and-bolts shoptalk one is used to in Modern Drummer.

"I ain't going to talk drums with you,"he shrugs. "I don't talk drums with no-body. You gonna have to find out for your-self. I tell my son nothin', I show himnothin'—my own son. I took him out onthe road, to Chicago and different places.He watched me and he watched other peo-ple. He loved Philly Joe. I said, 'Go withPhilly J o e . . . ' I have a reason for that,not showin' nobody nothin'. You canwatch me . . . unn, uhh—it's my secretand I'll keep it to myself. I wouldn't give acrippled crab a crutch to crawl acrossBridgette Bardot."

Still, despite the crusty words, Jo is avery generous man; and if one had thesense to visit him regularly at the West EndCafe and shut up and watch, he was deal-ing plenty of lessons off of that bandstand;and if you hung around afterwards (de-pending on whether or not you weregranted an audience), his philosophizing

on life, music and drumming could oftenbe a revelation. For those requiring evenmore in-depth information, the obvioussolution is to find a copy of The Drums byJo Jones (Jazz Odyssey, French Import),an extraordinary two-record set Papa Jodid around 1970 in Paris for producer Hu-gues Panassie; a tour-de-force solo dem-onstration of gadgets, effects, instruments,techniques, rudiments and reminiscenceson the great drummers that he knew (withhis own verbal and musical tributes toBaby Dodds, Alvin Burroughs, A.G. God-ley, Gene Krupa, Big Sid Catlett, WalterJohnson, Sonny Greer, Billy Gladstone,Manzie Campbell, Chick Webb, BabyLovett and a host of unnamed drummersand famous dancers). This is the definitiveJo Jones drum lesson.

"There are three things you can do tojazz," Jo is fond of saying. "Listen to it.Dance to it. Make love to it. If you can't dothat, there is something wrong with it."When Jo plays, you can do all three, be-cause at the root of everything he expresseson his instrument is a deep first-hand un-derstanding of the blues. "To play theblues, you must live the blues," he con-cludes. "People have the wrong interpre-tation of the blues. They th ink it's just asad thing. It can be a happy thing. Youmust remember how the blues started. Theblues started in the 1800s, when they hadthe slaves. They wanted to outlaw thedrums because somebody told them thatmessages were being sent to different plan-

tations with the drums; they had differentsignals and the drums carried a long way.Learning the drums was like learning toread and write. They communicated likethat, just like the old troubadors used to goaround and tell everybody what was hap-pening from one section of the country tothe other."

So because the drum was outlawed in19th century America, that drumming sen-sitivity had to be transferred to otherforms of expression; finding other outlets,as in the Church and the human voice."That's the reason the minstrels came up.Our people weren't allowed to do any-thing, so they turned to music. Through-out the history of mankind, it has been mu-sicians who could feel the pulse of thepeople and set it to music. We became cre-ative artists, and through our creativity,people could see things. There has onlybeen one culture since there has beenAmerica—music! And who put the culturein it? It was the Negroes, as they calledthem. America has never put nothing inthe world but music—black music. No-body has given to the world like the blackartist. I don't play European music and Idon't play African music because the Afri-can don't play like the Negro in America.Do you understand? That ain't his culture.We don't know nothing about no jungleswith no lions and tigers and crocodiles andall that. I don't play none of that. But I canplay the blues."

Which is the way Jo Jones & Enemiesopened and closed every set at the WestEnd, employing one of his favoritetricks—playing the drums with his hands.After lightly salting his skins, one crack-ling flam on the snare and bass drum callsthe children home. Jo accompanies hisfour-to-the-bar bass drum pattern withoff-beat accents on the hi-hat, and a re-markable range of texture and melodyfrom his two lateral floor toms (one to hisleft, one to the right next to his sock cym-bal) and his snare (with the snares off). Thefingers on both his hands are working as ifhe were playing a boogie woogie piano.The drums, though battered and humblecompared to most contemporary kits,have a singing qual i ty that is total lyunique. "This is the whole idea," heshouts, pulling on the key hanging by aleather braid around his neck. "Tuning!They got these things on there. Tune thedamn drum! I tune my drums to my ear. Ihave perfect pitch. I have a trained ear. Ihave a very expensive set of drums up thereat the West End. It cost me $125 . . . Ste-warts, made in Japan." (Although I mustadd that there was an old WFL insignia onthe mounted tom.) "See, Max Roach cameup to me years ago and said 'Jo, I just dis-covered something. It don't make no dif-ference what drums you play because theyall sound alike.' I said, 'Yeah, I'm like ArtTatum. No matter what kind of piano itwas, he'd make it sound alike. If they ain't

in tune, he'll play 'em in tune.' See, 'causewe was going to do a concert with MaryLou Williams, James Moody and Dizzy upat the college, and he wanted me to use hisnew drums. I said, 'Unn uh. I ain't goin' tobreak in them new drums. I ain't goin' tobreak in no new shoes. Get me your olddrums. I ' l l play them. Now he's got all thatnew-fangled electric stuff. Damn. I re-member they did a benefit for me one yearwhen I came back from Europe, and I toldthem about these electric drums they hadover in Italy [Hollywood drums]. Theywanted to get me a reservation at Bellevue.I remember Max brought back a set oneyear, and we had them up at Frank's shop.They never did work. Finally we took allthat shit out from inside and they soundedalright. Ha."

Not just any hobo can sit behind JoJones' drums and play them. First of all,the snare is at an odd angle, pitching downtowards the bass drum; secondly, his sockcymbals are set up almost completelyparallel to the snare with no clearance forcross sticking; thirdly, his right floor tom-tom is set up dangerously close to thesocks. You could lose your hand trying toget over and under those cymbals, but Jodoesn't pay it any mind, and takes greatpride in how baffled younger drummersare when trying to come to terms with theset. Even more imposing is his bass drum.For years Jo has been using a very thincalfskin timpani head on the batter side,and when I first had a chance to sound ityears ago, the thing just barked at me andwent BOOM. Yet from out in the audienceit was tight, soft, punchy and controlled. Iwas confused.

"Don't nobody understand it. That'swhy I don't have no problems. I ' l l haveguys sit down and play that drum, and itjust kicks the shit out of them. I was atSandy's in Boston a few years ago and Iinvited some little kid to sit down. Theyhad to push it back on the bandstand. Boy,he pushed that whole thing off there. I said'Damn, boy, what you trying to do?' Hewent BAM! I laugh at them drummers."

Only years later, watching Papa Jo in hisrocking chair keeping time to the musicwith his right foot did it occur to me whathe was doing. He was playing with a rock-ing heel-to-toe, toe-to-heel motion, andlater when I saw him on the bandstand heseemed to be pushing the beater into thehead, striking and muting in the same mo-tion, much as a timpani player might usehis hands or a marching drummer mightdamp the head. In this way, he is able toshade, accent and color, getting more mel-ody and pitch from that one drum thanmost players could get from a set of con-cert toms. Even when he's not playing thedrum, he's pedaling, so that the beat is al-ways felt if not heard. I'm not saying I un-derstand how he does it. That's just what Isaw. (Remember what Jo said about Mr.Emil Helmicke and his bass drum?)

His cymbal playing is even more re-markable. He approaches his cymbals gin-gerly, playing them with a broad, sweepingmotion, again reminding one of a pianist.That is to say, he never seems to hit a cym-bal or play down on it; just as a pianist willquickly lift a finger from the key, Jo's stickseems to be rising as soon as it makes con-tact, which accounts in part for his crystal-clear articulation and his immaculate con-trol of overtones and build up. He playsthe cymbal; it never plays him. "That cym-bal I got up there I gave away five times tofive different drummers. I told 'em, 'I 'mgoing to let you have this for a month. Youlearn how to play this, you can have it.'They ain't learned how to play it yet. I tookthat cymbal down to a Tony Bennett re-cording session and Joe Cocuzzo wasthere. Tony says, 'You brought the cym-bal.' I finally just got mad and gave it toJoe Cocuzzo anyway. He said, 'I'll neverplay this cymbal.' Just like I got two snaredrums. I said, 'Here, learn how to play it.Don't beat it; play it,' and that damn drumbounced up and hit 'em all over the head. Isaid, 'Can you spell play? P-L-A-Y!What's the difference between playing andbeating?'"

For the record, Jo's most recent setupfeatured what looked like an old (makethat old) pair of 13" Zildjian sock cymbalsof a fairly light weight, a single crotale,and an 18" medium ride. Jo's relationshipwith the Zildjian family goes back many

years, and he was one of the guiding forcesin helping them to perfect modern cymbalsfor contemporary trap drummers. He re-calls meeting Avedis Zildjian through BillMaither (one of the original New Yorkdrum and cymbal retailers). "He was atthe Ritz Carlton and the kids was inschool. I used to get cymbals from him,from Gretsch and from Manny's. I used topick cymbals for all the guys. I've shownthem a thousand times how to pick a cym-bal, and they still don't know. Last time Iwas up there they had a sign: 'WelcomeMax Roach.' And I said, 'You don't wel-come me?' And they said, 'Hell, you livehere.' I went into the vault, and got thislittle cat to go up a ladder and get me some-thing. Max asked, 'What's that?' I said, 'Itain't nothin' . ' He had to have eight ofthem. I only took but one—just like I onlyplay but one cymbal. I don't have but oneand I'm trying to get rid of that."

Hopefully, he won't get rid of his sockcymbals too, because his approach to thatinstrument put it on the map for all time."Cuba Austin was with McKinney's Cot-ton Pickers. And I saw him and he had thislittle sock cymbal that you used to slideyour foot in. It was through necessity that Iwent and got a pipe. I couldn't go downthere and play the sock cymbal on thefloor. So I had a great big stand-up drum. Ihad a cymbal holder that was a coat hangerand I put that on there. That's how thesock cymbal came. Before then it was

down on the floor and Cuba Austin had alittle overlapping thing where you used toslide your foot in. But they didn't have itup here. As recent as 1934 nobody had asock cymbal but Alvin Burroughs. GeorgeWettling, Gene Krupa . . . they didn'tknow nothing about a sock cymbal. Theyhad a sock cymbal, but they put it in thecloset. Tubby [Holland Harold], Zutty[Singleton], those guys never played thesock cymbal, but mine was through neces-sity, because that was all I had."

Despite his mastery of sock cymbals, forJo, like all the greater drummers of his era,the snare drum is the heart and soul of theperformance. "I used to tell all the young-sters, 'I don't care what you do—you startwith the snare drum. You go to the bass,the tom-toms and cymbals. Whenever youhear Zutty Singleton, whenever you hearGene Krupa, whenever you hear GeorgeWettl ing, whenever you hear DaveyTough—don't listen to nothing but thesnare drum. They never got to that touchyet, not in our travels. They don't havethat."

Jo Jones is to brushes what Casals is tocello and Segovia to classical guitar—theabsolute standard for how the instrumentshould sound. "Now what the hell do youthink you're doing with those?" he saidimpatiently when I picked up a pair ofbrushes in his presence. "You don't evenknow how to spell brush. Damn, I've hadfour cats and each one of them knowsmore about brushes than you' l l everknow." Then, backing off a bit, he tried togive me a sense of what the most importantpriority was on the instrument. "You haveto learn how to control yourself, see.That's why I've always kept cats aroundme—the cat controls itself. Sid Catlett wasa bigger man than you, but he could playso delicately.

"You see, it takes two totally differentkinds of control to play fast and to playslow. Each one has its own degree of diffi-culty. It 's the difference between playingloud and soft. It demands control. See, thetwo words: play and beat. When it comesto percussion instruments, you don't beatthe drum; you play the drum. You have ahorn: is he a horn blower or a horn player?You see, there are two words, fast andslow, and you have to dissect them andcontrol them. Nobody played faster thanJohnny Hodges. Nobody played fasterthan Louis Armstrong, and he didn't playbut one note; Count Basie played three,and that's enough. That's all he needs, andyou know he can play some piano. See, Idon't understand something. I don't un-derstand how come nobody improved onus. We improved on 1915, 1920, 1925. Weimproved on the peoples we learned from.How come they don't improve on a LesterYoung or a Coleman Hawkins or a TeddyWilson or a Sid Catlett or a Chick Webb?They don't do this no more. They could doi t , but they don't know how to do it. They

want to do something new, huh. Why can'tthe kids do better than this, improve on us?Walter Bolden told me he heard some littlekid playing all up against the wall. Walterasked him 'Whatcha doin' son?' he said,'I 'm playin' something new.' Walter said,'Oh, yeah?' When I asked him what hap-pened Walter said, 'He couldn't keeptime.'

"The kids don't understand how RoyEldridge, Coleman Hawkins and me couldplay their music, but they couldn't playours. When I made that Newport Rebelsalbum with Max, this little kid was reallysurprised to see me up there. He said,'Well, you were really good for your day.'I said 'Thank you, but tell me, what kindof drummer do you think I am?' Hethought I was a Dixieland drummer," hesays with a smile. "But you know, we triedout anything and everything in the bandroom unti l the leader come down and blewthat whistle."

In truth, what Jo Jones has put down forclose to 60 years is timeless and modern inthe best sense of the words—his sense ofspace and restraint, knowing when tojump in and when to lay out; the endlessarray of press rolls, rimshots and timbreshe elicits from his instrument; the way hedrives a band; and the hypnotic power ofhis soloing. Whether demonstrating hisshow-stopping cross-sticking technique onhis flanking tom-toms (as if he were play-ing a two-bass-drum bolero) or simply

making quarter notes swing, his music isnot dated. It is stylish and classic.

Yet for all his contributions to the drumsand popular music, for all his hard-earnedpride, there exists a streak of modesty andawe in him because Jo Jones never stoppedbeing a student of the drums. Certainnames crop up constantly in conversation:Buddy, Max, Philly Joe, Klook, BillyGladstone . . . But towering above themall in his hall of memories are two contem-poraries from the '30s who rival his great-ness, and often exceed it in his estimation:Big Sid Catlett and Chick Webb. When hetalks of drumming, Big Sid and Chickseem to hover beside him, standing injudgment, giving him strength, and scold-ing him when he stumbles. Together theyform a trinity of modern drumming, andmost of the great players of today owesome aspect of their styles to them. WhenJo speaks of them, he is talking aboutdrumming mis ter—the bluesmen whorocked the '30s.

"Big Sid was like my brother. I never goanyplace without a picture of Big SidCatlett. I've got a little picture of him that Icarry with me. That's why I am neverafraid. I know I've got Sid with me. See, Iwas very privileged to play with a CountBasie, to be around so many creative peo-ples. I remember one time Sidney sat inand he said, 'Man, I ought to knock youdown—now I got to go back to the coalmines.' Did you see Jamming The Blues?

Remember when Sid threw that one stickat me? We used to do a thing every Thurs-day night at the Apollo when we closed.The theater's packed, but there are twoseats set aside for Sid Catlett and his wife. Iused to throw the stick to Sidney, and aman would put the light on him andBOOM—he'd catch i t . Then, BOOM,he'd throw the stick back to me and we'dgo into 'One O'Clock Jump.' Don't askme. Ask the people that were there. Theydone saw it. They saw show business.Yeah, we did some strange things outthere.

"Well, you know they always say thefirst should be the last and the last shouldbe the first. Speaking about Chick Webb, Idon't speak of Chick Webb the drummer.I speak of Chick Webb, the epitome. Now,Mr. Chick Webb's sense of timing . . . hedidn't settle for nothing but the best. Mr.Webb had something along with his lead-ership, and he had to be a natural, a greatnatural, like what he know today as an Er-rol Garner—it's impossible to write, tostudy, to do whatever. We developed afriendship, and the man gave me some se-crets that I could never divulge because Iwouldn't know who to impart them to.

"The man was very musical. In the lateryears since his death, I have had the plea-sure of playing his records and askingsome of the young great drummers to tryto emulate him. I said, 'Let me hear youplay this.' They'd say, 'He did all that?'

I'd say, 'Yes, he did it with a pair of sticksthat looked like pencils. Now you have tohave all these two-pound sticks to go bang,bang, bang. No, no, no, he played thedrums and he played them in tune.' Mr.Chick Webb also got things from Mr.Drums, Walter Johnson. He told me.When he found out that I tuned my drumsand that I used a timpani head on my bassdrum, then he began to talk to me. He gaveme some secrets. Chick Webb didn't nor-mally hang out with other drummers, buthe wasn't threatened by me because he re-alized that I would never be as great adrummer as he was.

"This man saw what I was trying to dowith the Basie band. He saw the material Ihad to work with. He would have loved tohave had the material that I had to workwith. But without this man's encourage-ment, without this man telling me what Iwas supposed to do, you wouldn't see mesitting here today. I was ready to go backto Omaha when he said, 'Well, my boy,why don't you stay and stick it out?' Heencouraged me and he told me of things tocome. There are a lot of things that he toldme to do and told me I must do, that I havenever forgotten.

"He said, 'It isn't a form of humility.It's just a form of don't-lose-your-natural-ness—be yourself.' I said, 'Thank you.That's what my grandmother told me.' Hesaid, 'You don't have to do this becausesomebody's doing something like that.You just go on and you develop what youdevelop. Pretty soon you'll have a style ofyour own, because you have a wealth, andI'm looking at that.'

'' He showed it to me. These are the con-versations I had with Mr. Webb. Wheneverybody else would be going to the after-hours spots, I would be with Mr. Webb.He would be talking, but I would be listen-ing. He'd show me, and then he'd comeout and check me out. The last time was inDetroit. He came around to the GreystoneBallroom and he was falling through town.He heard the band and we went to the Nor-wood Hotel. We went across the street toget sausages and grits. He turned aroundand asked me for a cigarette. I said, 'Waita minute—ain't you got enough money tobuy those cigarettes?' He taught me allthat, too. He said, 'Don't buy no ciga-rettes.' I said, 'But you're the great band-leader.' But this man taught me somethingthat I had almost forgotten—he taught mediscipline. He taught me the character. Hetold me how important the drum was.

"He must have known he was going todie, and I realized this. There were several

drummers in New York that never took ad-vantage of being around Mr. Chick Webb,and they had been in New York and beenaround the man longer than I had. But Ifigured that if I could get any crumbs fromthe table by having a direct contact withthe man . . .

"When Chick Webb died, we were inChicago, staying on 39th Street, and theywouldn't tell me for two days. They filedmy radio off so I couldn't get nothing onthe radio, because they knew good andwell I would split to go to Baltimore. Lateron something happened that was a phe-nomenon. I was in Dayton, Ohio . . . thisman appeared to me in a dream, stoodright over me and told me something that Ihave never been able to divulge to nobody.But from that time until now it has givenme strength, because this man was remark-able. Nobody that played with him appre-ciated him till after he died. They didn'tknow what a great man he was."

This explains why Modern Drummerwould like to say, "Thank you, Jo Jones."In a culture where anything that happenedmore than six months ago is old news, itseems important to affirm certain values—to acknowledge our roots. Jo Jones is thepast, present and fu tu r e of Americanrhythm.

"Another thing about rhythm," Joonce told Nat Hentoff, "is that when anartist is performing on his instrument hebreathes in his normal fashion. When theartist is breathing improperly, it's like theaudience is left with a little case of indiges-tion. It's like eating a meal in a hurry. Notswinging is like that. It leads to tension inthe audience. It's a physical reaction whichyou give off.

"We'll start off playing a very simplebeat—the basic beat," Papa Jo concludedin his keynote to The Drums album. "Al-ways start basic and you'll never go wrong. . . after you have control of your instru-ment, you can do whatever you wish. Re-gardless of whatever they name it: YOUPLAY."

We 'd like to thank the Institute For JazzStudies on the Newark campus of RutgersUniversity for their gracious assistance inresearching this piece. A special thanks toDan Morgenstern, Ron Welburn, and MiltHinton for allowing us to tap into the Insti-tute's invaluable Oral History Program.Anyone with any curiosity about the rootsof A merican jazz, blues and popular songshould avail themselves of the Institute'sextensive library of books and records, in-cluding countless titles deleted from thecurrent catalog. The Institute's phonenumber is (201) 648-5800.

Special thanks to Joanna Grammon forlooking after Mr. Jones, who wishes to ex-tend his heartfelt thanks to all the fans andfriends who've seen him through hardtimes. Anyone who'd like to drop Papa Joa line can write to him at 401 E. 64thStreet/Apt. 4A/NYC, NY 10021.

International PercussionOne of the strange things about the drumindustry is that in some companies, thepeople who design drums have never actu-ally played drums. With that in mind, it isreassuring to learn that Jay Tuttrup is anexcellent drummer, who began playing 21years ago at age nine. His experience in-cludes club and show bands all over thecountry, as well as a seven-year hitch withthe Marine Corps band.

Jay is also a craftsman, design engineerand inventor. Furthermore, he is a manwith a plan for his future and for what hehopes might be the future of drum design.Jay has designed and constructed drums ofsolid wood, including Hawaii's uniquekoa, which are revolutionary both insound and appearance. He is now ready toplace these drums on the market.

Operating out of a small shop in Hono-lulu, Hawaii, Jay recently outlined the de-tails of his design concept, including his re-search into the physics and acoustics of hisradical new drum shape, which he feels isanything but a gimmick.RVH: What made you want to start build-ing drums?JT: I've always liked working with woodand making things. The design of the firstdrum was what got me started; the conical-shaped drum. I wasn't looking for acous-tics or a better sounding drum. I just cameup with that idea and thought , "I wonderwhat it sounds like? It ' s got to have some-thing to it. It 's right between a cylinderdrum and a conga." This was in May of1978.

The first one I made out of fiberglass,and it seemed to have a pretty good sound.

A finished koa shell showing the appear-ance of the grain. Seams are barely visibleat top of photo, on the inside of the shell.

It was a 10x14 drum. But fiberglasswasn't the thing to use because of themolds, and it was pretty difficult to workwith. So I started working with wood, andjust by using a calculator, and a couple ofmath and drafting books, I fit the puzzletogether for all these pieces; the bars forthe barrel-type construction. I made onejust to find out what it would sound likeand it sounded good—the quality wasthere. I got real close to the acoustics thefirst time. I wasn't thinking, "I want tomake drums to make money." It just cameto me and I liked doing it.RVH: Did you start with koa wood?JT: No. The first set I made was oak. I tookthem on the road for two years withoutcases. The set has been through a wind chillfactor of 80° below, and then into a housethat was heated with a fireplace—dry heat—and it didn't crack. So I was prettypleased with that , and I thought this mustbe the way to go. I know the durability isthere, after treating them the way I did—without cases, in extreme hot and coldtemperatures—just to see if they wouldbust up.RVH: When did you actually think of go-ing into production?JT: Ever since day one. But I've neverknown too much about business. Thewhole thing has been almost too much forme. Doing every aspect of i t : bookkeeping,designing, production; it pretty much tookme this long to get everything together. Ittook about five years altogether; two yearsfor the patent to go through.RVH: What are you going to call thesedrums?

Patent diagram of the conical Tub drumdesign. Vertical lines indicate the "barrel-stave" construction.

JT: My company is International Percus-sion. We're going to be known for solid-wood drums. The conical-shaped drumswill be called Tubs.RVH: Your barrel-stave design is uniquein drumsets. How can people best visualizethe manner of construction?JT: It's similar to the way wooden congasare made.RVH: Under normal circumstances, wooddrums are made from plywood. Whatyou're promoting is actually a shell madeof solid wood. How thick are your shells,and how much resonance can you expectfrom them?JT: The shells range from 3/8" to 3/4 thick.My largest one is 3/4" right now. That's abass drum, and I'm still experimentingwith that. I have the shell made, but it's notfinished so I haven't heard it yet. I'm play-ing on 1/2" oak on my kit now. I'd like tomake thinner shells too, and compare thethin to the 3/4". Then I'll answer that ques-tion for you. At home I have three drums.They're all 14", all made of koa, and theyall have the same hardware and the sameheads. The only difference is that one is aconical-shaped drum, one is a double-headed drum, and one is a drum with justone head on it. When you tune them to thesame pitch, you can hear the difference inthe timbre and the tone.RVH: The only variable being the shape ofthe shell.JT: Right. If you play the conical-shapedone and the double-headed one, theysound pretty similar. If you play the coni-cal-shaped one and the single-headed one,they sound pretty similar, too. But if youplay the one-headed drum versus the two-headed drum, they sound very different.So the conical-shaped drum is right in be-tween, because it does give resonance andprojection at the same time.RVH: Your theory then, with the conical-shaped shell, is to compress the soundthrough a small opening.JT: Yes. I get my projection with the com-pressed air coming out and I get the reso-nance from the conical shape. And also,the higher frequencies from the heads arecontrolled by the shape of the shell. I don'thave to use a muffler that way to take offthe high end.RVH: What woods did you experimentwith?JT: Spruce is really the best resonatingwood, because of the fibers. You have to

by Rick Van Horn

think of hardness, and you have to think ofthe fine fibers in the woods that will begood resonating woods. Also, you have tothink about what area you're in and whattypes of wood are available. I suppose I usemy woods for the same reason that congamanufacturers use oak, mahogany orother hardwoods. You just want a woodthat doesn't have any knots; a clear hard-wood that will have more resonance than asoftwood.RVH: Koa is used for high-quality electricguitar and bass bodies.JT: And also acoustic guitars and ukulelesmade here in Hawaii.RVH: Will you be offering strictly koadrums?JT: No. I have koa, the exotic wood of theSouth Pacific, solid oak, and solid rose-wood. All three types of woods have theirown sound characteristics. The oak andthe koa are very similar because of theirhardness. The difference is mainly in thelooks. The rosewood is so dense, such afine-fiber wood, and so much harder thatyou would hear a difference in that way. Italso has its own magnificent look to it.RVH: It would also be more expensive.JT: Yeah, the wood is five times more ex-pensive for me to buy.RVH: You say the hardwood enhances thedrum's resonance, but I think a congagives a very contained sound from its solidwood body.JT: Conga drums are very thick. The thin-

ner the wood, the more resonance it pro-duces. That's why I'm going with the 3/8".Congas are more like 3/4" to 7/8" thick.RVH: Why market the conical shaperather than a standard cylinder of solidwood?JT: I th ink the conical shape just gives thedrummer a thi rd choice. It sounds differentfrom one-headed or two-headed drums.The quality of the tone is there, and it givesthe other two drums a run for their money.Personally, I like the sound of all three,and later on I ' l l have all three drumsets.The only thing I have available right now isthe standard cylinder shape. The onlything I 'm going to have in my advertisingwill be cylindrical, solid wood shells, andthe customer can put either one or twoheads on them.RVH: So ini t ia l ly you'll be marketing justbare cylindrical shells, with no hardware atall. When do you plan to market the coni-cal shells?JT: Summer of '84. I 'm just getting startedfrom nothing here. The easiest thing Icould do to get started is to make the cylin-drical shells. Next, I can make the conicalshells, and then conga drums. With a newproduct like this I had to make all my ownjigs, and design the tools and machines tomake the drums. I want to give the drum-mer as much choice as possible. I'm goingto make only solid wood drums out ofthree types of wood. I 'll make cylindricaland conical, and also offer the short congadrum shape. Then I ' l l offer two or moretypes of hardware, not only chrome parts,but brass plating too, with the dark koa.

Jay, looking ahead to his full-line drumproduction, has some fairly unique hard-ware designs, and says that they might beout around 1985. They include a specialtuning system for the conical drums: across between chain-timpani tuning andRotoTom tuning. This would be availableas an alternative to a more familiar key-lugsystem. Jay intends to maintain strict qual-ity control to ensure that all hardware will

be manufactured according to his originalspecifications.RVH: When you go into production withthe conical shells, will there be a variety ofdepths as well as diameters?JT: I ' l l have all the standard sizes, as wellas the power-tom sizes, but custom sizeswill be available. There are certain lawsyou have to follow. If you have a longdrum on top and a short bottom, then thehole has to be bigger or you're going to getthe effect that the whole bottom is coveredup. On my short ones, the holes are small.As they get longer, the hole gets larger.There's an acoustic formula for each size.What I'm going after is the quality ofsound. The formula and the physics of thisdictate where it's at. I plan to offer threechoices for the top dimension and threechoices for the bottom—for any givendiameter—and they will automatically dif-fer. With further experimentation, I mightfind that some of the models won't work aswell, or some may sound alike. So I cannarrow it down if necessary. Whatevershape I do make it, it's going to have thebest sound that that size and shape canhave. If I have to alter the hole on the bot-tom or some other feature, then so be i t .RVH: What about the strength and shapeof the shell when installing hardware?JT: The seams are stronger than the wooditself, and with quality construction, thereare no gaps on the outside or the inside be-tween any single "barrel stave." The bear-ing edge will be 45°, slanted to the inside,with the outside being rounded justenough to have no sharp edges. I make myshell diameters for Remo drumheads,within one hundredth of an inch. I have tohave that kind of precise tolerance becauseof the number of pieces that make up theshell. If you're off even one hundredth ofan inch on 28 pieces, that 's a total of overone quarter of an inch. That's why I'mmaking them and nobody else is. You'vegot to be precise. When I go into my wood-shop, I have to think precision. If thesucker is a hundredth of an inch too small,we roast weinies with it.RVH: How will your shell compare inprice to a plywood shell?JT: Very competitively. My costs include asmall shop, a phone, and some things Ican't skimp on, like tools and materials. Ican't skimp because I'll have a real goodguarantee on these drums.

And I'm going to have a wide pricerange. With the three different types ofwood, there are going to be three differentprices, the oak being the least expensivewith hardware of the simple type. Rose-wood and gold plating will also be avail-able. The sky's the limit.

I'm out to serve the needs of drummers.Instead of putting out a collection of itemsand then saying, "Okay—pick out whatcomes closest to what you need from whatI have," I'm saying, "Tell me what youneed, and I'll build it."

SF: You're a musician who's referred to asan expatriot who started his career in theU.S. and then moved to West Germany.What prompted the move?AR: I moved in about 1978. I'd been livingin New York and had a very good group.We were playing—I hate the term "avant-garde" music—we were playing creativemusic in lofts. In the mid '70s, there was abig loft movement in New York City. Wewere doing well musically, but f inancial lywe were making car fare on these gigs. Itwas very hard; it 's always been hard. It wasdifficult to live under those conditions.

I always believed in playing and makinga l iving from playing. I never wanted to doanything else to earn my living. I figuredthat if I could play, get paid and keep go-ing, then my l i fe would be fairly complete.I was doing club dates, dances—whateverpossible. The time left for the creative mu-sic was very small. The living conditionswere getting very rough in New York. Themusic wasn't in the environment.

I had a saxophonist named Peter Ponzil,who said to me, "I've been in Europe." Hesaid there were some people interested inwhat we were doing. So I went wi th him. Ihad a tape with me that I made in NewYork which became my first album. Dur-ing the first stop in Paris, a record com-pany called Atmosphere bought the mas-ter. Then in Germany, there was an agentwho loved the music. Young, communalpeople offered to look for work for us and

AbbeyRaderto show us around. Things just kept build-ing. Activity-wise, I haven't really beenable to get out.SF: I've read statements by jazz musi-cians—oftentimes "avant-garde" play-ers—who love Europe because there's somuch more acceptance of their music inEurope. Yet, I've heard other people sayi t ' s not as good as it 's cracked up to be. IsEurope a bed of roses? Why do you feel theacceptance is greater in Europe for thenewer forms of jazz?AR: I t ' s definitely not paradise anywherefor creative people. Even the term "avant-garde" is not good. I played straight-ahead jazz for most of my youth. I'veplayed with Ira Sullivan, Laurindo Al-meida, and Herman Foster. It was no par-adise for any of those forms. There's a lotof other th ings happening. They have avery big new wave movement in Germany.The majority of young people listen to thatmusic. But, there's a big enough audienceto support what we do too. I t ' s not like youwork every night or tour year 'round be-cause you're in Europe. But you can gointo a club and you can play exactly whatyou want to. You don't have to hold anypunches. They consider our music an artform; American classical music. Theyhave their own tradit ional classical musicwhich is 500 years old, but they will sup-port our music as an art form. They're notswamped with the media as we are in theU.S.

I'm amazed at the 30 stations on cableTV, radio, advertisements and the con-stant pump in the U.S. That's part of myheritage and I understand where it 's com-ing from, but i t ' s very, very different in Eu-rope. On European radio, every tune is adifferent form of music. You can't tuneinto one station and know it's going to bejust classical or just jazz?.. You'll find a mix-ture.

I believe the people appreciate going outto a club for a live musical experience. Idon't see huge, huge concerts, but I do seebig festivals that give people two or threedays to partake of all kinds of music.SF: Is there much music on TV in Europe?AR: Some of the festivals are taped andshown on TV. So if you didn't attend, youcould see almost any good festival later ontelevision. They do have rock concerts too.

SF: When did your concept of drummingchange from straight-ahead playing to theway you're playing now?AR: I didn' t start playing unti l I was over18. My father has been playing drums allhis life. That's how he supported us. He'sst i l l playing at 70. I don't th ink that he af-fected my concept, except that he made itpossible for me to play in musical situa-tions that I thought were corny at the time,but turned out to be very valuable later on.

I 'm fooling with rhythms in my ownband; playing things that I played on a clubdate somewhere, and ut i l iz ing them as arhythm I can spread from. All that trainingand the opportunity I received from know-ing my father and some of his people werevery valuable later.

A lot of young people feel that if they'renot doing gigs that are "hip," they'rewasting their time. But, I've heard RonaldShannon Jackson's band, with Shannonusing rhythms that sounded like polkas orwaltzes. I found myself recently compos-ing around a march form and breaking itdown later. I t ' s very valuable to haveplayed in many varied styles so you can in-corporate them when you want to expressyourself.SF: What made you decide to pursue thenewer forms of jazz?AR: When I started to play, I was very for-tunate to jump into a trio we had in the'60s. We played lounge music which con-sisted of piano, bass and drum trios, orquartets wi th saxophones. We startedplaying standards and listened to peoplel ike Ahmad Jamal, or the Oscar PetersonTrio with Ed Thigpen and Ray Brown. Wewere into that style and I loved it.

I was getting telephone calls for the first15 years of my life to gig between NewYork and Florida. I played some shows,some Catskill show bands, and Burlesquehouses. But mainly I was listening to jazzand playing in a jazz-oriented style.

I was on the Lower East Side in the '60sand I heard the John Coltrane Quartet atthe old Half Note. I would say that nighthad something to do with awakening myhead. When I heard them play, when Iheard what they were searching for and theenergy that was happening, it changed myent i re direction. Before tha t , I was playing

by Scott K. Fish

Ignacio Berroaand

Daniel PonceIn Verna Gill is ' apartment in GreenwichVillage's west side, the doorbell rings witha special rhythm—the clave; the beat thatunderlies almost all Cuban music. And ifVerna's phone could ring to that rhythm, itwould because she owns Soundscape, alarge club in a loft that serves as headquar-ters for Latin jazz in New York City. Natu-rally, i t 's at Soundscape that some of thebest young Cuban musicians, impelled toleave Cuba by politics, find each other andplay together. Two of the people you'rel ikely to see there are drummer IgnacioBerroa and conguera Daniel Ponce.

Ignacio Berroa, who has always playedthe North American drumset, not Cubanpercussion, arrived in Key West, Floridaon a boat from Cuba on May 25, 1980. Hebrought one change of underwear, one ex-tra shirt , a toothbrush and comb, leavingeverything else, including his practice pad,behind in Cuba. He had never owned adrumset anyway. "It's not l ike the U.S.You don't have music stores where you canjust go in and buy a drumset," he says. InCuba, he used the drums wherever heworked, most often in a recording studio.From Key West, he final ly made his way tohis aunt's house in New York City.

At the same time, jazz saxophonist andbass clarinet player Paquito D'Rivera de-cided to defect to the U.S. He already hada contract with Columbia Records, sincehe had been discovered by Dizzy Gillespieon a tour of Cuba. By the time Paquitoarrived in New York, Ignacio Berroa hadalready checked out the scene. He hadjammed together many times with Paquitoin Cuba. Ignacio, who had heard a won-derful conga player at the Village Gate inNew York, told Paquito, "Hey, man, ifyou want to form a group, I've got a greatconga player for you, Daniel Ponce. He'splaying at Soundscape."

Paquito thought that he had heard everymarvelous thing there was to hear fromconga players. "After all, I'm Cuban," hereflected. But he went along to Soundscapeand heard Ponce. "He's a monster," saidPaquito. "I had never heard anyone likehim."

"Nobody had ever heard of DanielPonce in Cuba," says Berroa, a small,smiling, friendly man, who crams hisdrumset into a l i t t le car to get from gig to

gig, sometimes several in a single day, inNew York City. "Now everybody knowshim, not only here but in Cuba."

D'Rivera did form his own group, withseveral Cubans, including Ponce and Ber-roa, who quickly became known to Ameri-can pop and jazz musicians on the i r own.Berroa recorded with Paquito and McCoyTyncr. He played with Eddie Palmieri andmost regu la r ly wi th Dizzy Gi l lespie .Ponce, making himself known as the mostexciting young conguera in town, playedconga on three albums with Paquito. Heplayed bata with Laurie Anderson, the vo-calist and experimental electronics musi-cian, on her album for Warner Brothers.Ponce also played conga on Elektra Musi-cian albums with Bill Laswell and Mate-rial, and on his best known work, an al-bum with Herbie Hancock for Columbiaentitled Future Shock. In addition, Poncerecorded a breathtaking duet, "NigerianSunset," with bebop singer Bobby McFer-rin during a 1982 Kool Jazz Concert atCarnegie Hall, which starred a half dozentop young jazz "lions," as the festivaldubbed them. Ponce formed his owngroup, Jazz Bata, and made a record,"New York Now," on the Celluloid La-bel. I t features two of his original composi-tions, "Africana Contemporanea" and"Cojelo Suave," meaning "Take ItEasy," for which he received a CAPS(Creative Artists Public Service) grant.

On the surface, Daniel and Ignacio haveplenty in common. Daniel was born onJuly 8, 1953, Ponce on July 21, 1953. Bothcame by boat to Key West in 1980, leavingeverything behind in Cuba. They are fast,versatile, super drummers. And when theyplay together, they make a special connec-tion, with the bond of the clave behindthem. But Daniel loves jazz, and Ponce is aCuban-music chauvinist with a special af-finity for rock and singing. Berroa alwaysplays as a sideman, while the taller, moremuscular Ponce, with a reputation for ego-centricity and a dashing but rare smile,likes to lead his own group.

After three years in the U.S., bothtalked about their work. Ponce was partic-ularly proud of the unique force of Cubanmusic. Long before jazz had its name, therhythms of the Caribbean entered theU.S., brought along by slaves from Haiti,

the Spanish-owned islands and SouthAmerica, most notably to New Orleans,where the French and English culturesdominated. By the turn of the century, therhythmic accents spread to other cities too.Afro-Cuban rhumba and tango rhythmsshowed up in the music of such early jazzstars as Jelly Roll Morton, W.C. Handyand Cab Calloway.

What makes Cuban music differentfrom all other music? "The difference be-tween Cuban music and all other music isthe different rhythms," says Ponce."From that, everything is different. Theinstruments—the congas, bongos, t imbali ,bata, and agogo [a double cowbell]—areCuban and different from other countries'instruments. And there's a different feel-ing. Each country has its different feeling.Cuban music has more force than otherLatin countries' music. Brazilian music isbasically the samba, which is softer. TheDominican Republic has the merengue.But Cuban music has so many morerhythms and is more complex."

Both Ponce and Berroa believe the maininspirat ion for Cuban music was thechurch—the Afro-Cuban religions, just asthe blues and jazz came from Gospel mu-sic. Ponce drew in his feeling for the reli-gious-inspired Cuban music as naturally as

by Leslie Gourse

Photo

by R

aymon

d flo

ss

many years of straight ahead, I was tryingto keep good time, which was definitelynecessary, and I was copping a groove. ButI wasn't a voice. Somehow, Mr. Coltrane'ssearch and the power of his band reallyopened my head to other forms.

Elvin Jones, with Coltrane, naturallyhad a lot to do with exploding my head. Ispoke with Elvin and I've written a poemfor him published in Germany. It's in mybook. The poem's called, "With Love toElvin Jones." I used to stand in the Profes-sional Percussion Shop with Frank Ippo-lito and Elvin was there often. I used tochat with him. I was a little afraid of Elvinwhen I was young. His power and energyare unbelievable. But everytime I've spo-ken with him, he's been beautiful—a realgentleman.SF: Can you say technically how your con-cept has changed to where it is today?AR: I was, and am, a timekeeper, which isthe underlying foundation. But there's acircle that happens in most creative musicwhen the improvisation is happening.When you're locked in the circle, when allplayers are equal, and when everybody isestablishing the time, there's a lot of free-dom there for everyone. Naturally, youmust be attuned and it must be happening.I've been exposed to "free music" whereeverybody gets up and plays nothing thatrelates to anything. I'm not speakingabout that. I'm talking about coming from

a form. When it does connect up, you'recapable of letting go of the feeling that youhave to be locked to a certain time func-tion. The time is established. In that timeyou are able to express yourself and reactspontaneously, which is what jazz isabout. When I found myself in playing sit-uations where that happened, I playedthings and I didn't know where they camefrom. They seemed to have come throughme. I also played at very high-energy levelswithout feeling any physical stress whatso-ever. I knew there was a force happeningthat was not totally controlled by me. I wasjust a conductor of it. That kind of spirit-ual connection, the energy, has alwaysbeen my main search. I've searched inother areas too.

I just learned to react. I learned to stopthe thoughts and play the music, becausewhen you're taking time to think, you'renot really in the moment of the music. Ilearned to become a musician, to play thecomposition and be part of it , and to reactspontaneously in the improvisations. Itseemed to me to be the most fulfillingform. I enjoy playing gigs of other styles,but this type of playing is the best chanceyou get to express yourself creatively.SF: Can you be aware of the moment inother forms of music?AR: Not as much, personally. If there's arhythm going on in a certain group andyou're behind a singer or in some kind ofrepeating function—a tune that must lay acertain way—naturally your skill lies inkeeping it together, being tasteful andkeeping the time right. But you're not get-ting that much opportunity to stretch out.SF: I received two albums in the mail theother day—your new album and anotherartist's album. Both were duets between adrummer and another instrumentalist .The differences in approach were striking.Although at times your music became fre-netic, I still heard melody and a relation toform in it. The other album was like the"free music" you mentioned that seems torelate to nothing. It was an interesting con-trast.AR: That's the dangerous part. In Europethey have what they call "free music." I'venever called the music "free" becausewe've never really played without some-where to start from. We never really

played free. There's nothing free about it.You can't have freedom without a founda-tion. A building would fall over if it wasn'tgrounded in something. But in Europeanimprovised or "free music," musicians getup and they just play. Sometimes it lookslike a clown show. I've seen musicianslighting instruments on fire and throwingsaucers into the wall. I've never been a partof that. It has to swing. That other kind ofunconnected energy is not what I considerjazz or creative music. Without swinging,you're not connected. If you're not con-nected, all the energies are not being usedfor the one force, for the music or for de-livering the music. It could be anything. Itcould be a kid that doesn't know what heor she is doing. It could be a musician onan ego trip. It could be all forms of discon-nected energy which do not make a wholefor the people.

I know I've played some music that wasaggressive or frantic, but it was always tiedtogether. It might have reflected the moodsof the players, but it came from playerswho always had years of musical back-ground and knowledge. They were con-nected when they played. That's very im-portant.SF: You've established a nice teachingpractice in Germany. What approach tothe drumset do you teach?AR: At the University, I've been teachingpeople who are mainly going to be musicteachers and some who want to be profes-sionals. Most of them are not aware of ru-diments. It's not that they're not aware ofit; they don't pay attention. A lot of Ger-mans want to get free because they feelthey've been noted to be stiff. Everybodywants to be somebody else. The Germanswant to get away from strict forms. I stressthe rudiments, because without that facil-ity, without the hands and feet being ableto move in all different directions, the stu-dents are not going to say anything.

I stress independence. We have twodrumsets in every place and we play to-gether. It's very important to talk and playtogether. We'll trade fours and eights, andwe'll talk about form and melody. I've hadclassical musicians who want to playdrumset, and they don't know the lengthof an AABA tune. They don't know any-thing about blues, and they're going to goout and be music teachers! It 's frightening.

So we stress song form and we stressplaying melodically, when they're ready.A lot of students come in and they havetheir rock beats together. They show themto you and then it's over. They don't havethe opportunity to play in different formsand there's very limited work there. Theydon't have club dates or lounge bands.They don't get the exposure. I try to talkwith them about what I've been through;introduce them to a sax player or a trumpetplayer passing through. I've built up a verygood relationship with my students. I have35 dear friends now.

SF: You said earlier that none of them evercancel out or miss a lesson?AR: They never miss, man. It 's a treat forthem. See, the drumset is an American in-vention. It wasn't considered an instru-ment in Europe, and it's still not by theolder professors. In their school system,they only had snare drumming or classicalpercussion. They never had drumset. Theyhave a catalog of what's proper and what'snot, and jazz—which would relate todrumset playing—was listed as a viableform, so they allowed me to go ahead anddo it. It's been very good for me becauseit's made me work, and shown me whathappens in other parts of the world, howmuch interest there is in what we're doing,and how much respect there is.SF: You mentioned how much more patri-otic you felt towards America after livingin Europe and experiencing things like theBerlin Wall. Maybe you could touch on thetremendous opportunity that young play-ers have in America which they wouldn'thave anywhere else. Sometimes we over-look this fact because we're born andraised in the U.S.AR: America is probably the most freecountry in the world, and the greatestcountry in terms of pursuing whateveryou'd like to pursue.

I met a trio from Czechoslovakia when Iwas coming from a gig in Norway. We hadto take a ferry boat. These three men wereplaying on the boat. They were from aCommunist country and the drummerplayed excellently. They spoke about jazzbecause that 's what they loved. Theyspoke about waiting seven years for an in-strument of very bad quality. They spokeabout waiting 10 years for an apartmentwith a bathroom. This man had a family,he was playing drumset in a jazz fashionvery well, and the love for the music was inhis eyes. But what he had to go throughjust to have a place for his children to takea shower and to buy an instrument was in-credible. Yet with all those odds, thesepeople were going ahead.

He told me he once had a Duke El-lington record which he waited a year toget. He was buying one album a year. Withthat, with the family pressure, and withoutthe things we take for granted in America,this man was functioning.SF: Why did he have to wait so long to buyan instrument?AR: It wasn't available, there were no im-ports and he had no money. After passinga series of tests, he was allowed to be adrummer because he had qualified. Thereason they were playing on the boat wasthat they were allowed by the governmentto make a certain amount of money everyyear. For a certain number of weeks eachyear they were allowed to work, and thework was set up by their government. Thenthey had to come back. The availabili ty ofinstruments is also controlled by the gov-ernment. A person can't go down to a mu-

sic store on 48th Street. Musicians inAmerica are complaining, but I've seenpeople with equipment here that's incredi-ble.SF: So in Communist countries, it's up tothe government to decide if you can be adrummer in the first place?AR: Yes. Europe is free in a sense. But inEurope, young people are raised to knowone thing—everybody must be a profes-sional. In Germany, everybody must func-tion in a professional capacity and mustprepare with a lot of security for the fu-ture. It is very rare for a young person toplay an instrument and take a chance onbeing a musician. The people don't havethat kind of freedom. They're afraid theymay not make it. I've heard many times,"What happens when I'm 30, if . . . ?"SF: I'm hearing that more and more fromyoung people in America. "I'd like to be-come a musician, but what's the secu-rity?"AR: Security is an illusion. When I startedto play, I don't ever remember saying,"How much will I make?" I saw musiciansplay, I loved what I heard, I loved what Isaw, and I loved the magic of it. I didn'tstart out because of numbers. Maybe to-day with the media and the commercialismof it, musicians are considering that rightoff the bat. They're squashing their spiritsa bit.

I'm 39, I have two new sons, and I'mplaying stronger. I think I've just started toplay. I put in 20 years. I th ink if you do 20years and you're still alive, functioningand still playing your instrument, thenyou've passed your apprenticeship in thissociety. I feel like I've really just developedmy voice and I'm ready to go. I can't seewhy a young person should be afraid.Afraid of what?SF: It seems to me that many of the musi-cians living in free countries have a ten-dency to embrace Socialist or Communistphilosophies when they're in bad financialsituations. Have you ever found that to betrue?AR: I've seen that. Naturally, when you'redown, you're groping for the reason oryou're looking to be against something.What happens to you is definitely a Karmicresponse. Supposedly, you should be re-spectful of what happens to you regardlessof whether it's down or up, and accept thatas being what's happening to you in a mo-ment in reality. It's nobody's fault outsideof your own.

I've never thought that way. It's de-structive. I don't think you can changepower structures with violent movementsor responses like that. You have to developyour work and you'll get what you deserve.I'm not a very famous man, but I've beenallotted a very successful life as far as fam-ily, instruments, and a band are con-cerned. And it's getting better and better. Ideveloped a positive at t i tude from thepractices, or experience, or whatever. The

positive attitude is very important; thatpositive energy. It's very important to real-ize exactly who you are, regardless ofwhether it's good or bad, to stick with it, todevelop it, and to try to put out that posi-tive at t i tude to other people.

he breathed Havana's air and heard themusic of the streets—especially in hisghetto neighborhood of Jesus Maria. Hisgrandfather played bata drums, which, be-fore the Revolution, were used only in reli-gious music. Ponce's grandfather playedmusic for the Yoruba religion, which camefrom the Yoruba tribe in West Africa.

"You're born into that environment,"says Ponce, "and you just pick up the mu-sic. The bata is as common as the piano orguitar here. As a baby, I just picked up mu-sic, beating on tin cans and later playedconga, primarily at carnival" (MardiGras, which Castro switched to July andcalled a celebration of the Revolution)."That was my specialty. Actually the in-strument is called a tumba, to be correct,and I'm a tumbadora. There is a rhythmcalled the conga, and that's how the nameconguera came into being."

He started playing conga at age 12. Im-mediately it became his first love among in-struments, "because you can really playthis well; you can make rhythms in a groupor solo. And I like the responsibility of thisparticular instrument within the music."

Once he played for nine hours straightduring carnival, with his long, graceful,cafe au lait colored hands bleeding a little,building up callouses on his palms. Hisfirst influences were Benny More, a singerwho is now dead, Tito Gomez, a popularsinger, and Chuchu Valdez, a pianist. "Somany singers, yes. I like singers so much. IfI could have chosen in my mother's womb,I would like to have been a singer of ro-mantic songs." He also liked Munequitasde Matanzas, a singing and instrumentalgroup that played flamenco, guaguancoand rhumba—three of the 61 varieties ofCuban rhythms, most of which are un-known outside of Cuba.

He had played only Cuban rhythms be-fore he arrived in the U.S. Now critics sayhe is managing to bring about "Cuban fu-sion," blending the Cuban rhythms withrock and funk to produce a more sophisti-cated or commercially pleasing music forNorth American audiences. And with somany rhythms going at once, typical ofCuban music, he stirs up tremendous ex-citement. He plays what two or threedrummers are supposed to play—andplays rhythms against each other, with thedrums tuned differently, each supposed tohave a different beat.

He never dreamed about developing hisstyle or setting up Cuban fusion as a goalbefore he set eyes on Key West. If he hadspoken English, he might have looked fora job in areas other than music in the U.S.But he went into music to earn a living, and

played the music of the street embellishedby his ear and taste for rock. He thrilledcritics. His explanation is, simply, "I justliked to play." Although he loves jazz, heprefers rock or funk, and pays special at-tention to his new influences: "StevieWonder—todo" (everything he does),"Patti Labelle, Michael Jackson, BarryWhite, Bobby McFerrin" (Daniel kisseshis fingertips and blows a kiss into the airlike a salute) "and Mel Torme" (which hepronounces "Meltamay"). Ponce's man-ager, Verna Gillis, is certain that Poncewill be responsible for popularizing Cubanfusion. He agrees.

"And now I want to talk about thesalsa," he said through Verna, who actedas his interpreter. "For me it's a sauce forclams and spaghetti. It was a name thatwas given in about 1960 to draw attentionin the Latin community to the music. Inreality, this is popular Cuban dance music.In Cuba we call it son montuna" (one ofthe many Cuban rhythms) "the fast andthe slow part of the evolution of a piece ofdance music.

"When U.S. and Cuban relations fellapart, salsa became strong here. It was theway the people who promoted the musiccalled salsa exploited Cuban music here.They used the concept to build up a record-ing industry. But son montuna is what theycall salsa here." Furthermore, "it's time topreserve salsa for the past and change it byincorporating electronic instruments, ef-fects and different dances," he adds.

"Son montuna, or salsa, uses the clave.And so do almost all other types of Cubanmusic or rhythms—guaracha, rhumba,guaguanco, yambu, yoruba, Columbia,macuto, mozambique, which is a dancerhythm primari ly for carnival, andchaonda, which is more a spectacle than apopular dance—to name a few of the 61varieties, all but one using the clave—the3-2 clave for son or salsa, and the 2-3 clavefor guaguanco and rhumba, for example.Each music has its own basic rhythms, butyou can play the clave within them all. Youcan play clave with funk or rock, and inchaonda, danzon, everything.

"The Cuban clave is different from thePuerto Rican idea of the clave," says Dan-iel, talking about an issue that has stirredup a lot of emotion among Latin musi-cians. "Here they use the 3-2 clave in sonfor everything, because the other one—2-3—is too difficult and complex for non-Cubans. The music of salsa is plastic mu-sic. Anyone can play the clave, butnon-Cubans weren't born into it. Evensome of the Cuban percussionists whocame here a long time ago have lost thesense of the Cuban clave, which is a pro-found, rhythmic feeling.

"The difficulty is not playing it butmaintaining it with the bass line and thepiano line. Piano players and bassistsshould study the clave to play Latin mu-sic."

When asked about his feelings for play-

ing with Ignacio Berroa, Ponce replied,"Ignacio is so complete because he canplay Latin jazz, funk, everything. I preferto play with him than others, because thecombination is just natural, without re-hearsal. From the Cuban concept of mu-sic, there's no one else I can do that with."

Berroa, as an expatriate, finds himself asoul brother in special commune with Dan-iel Ponce. Berroa always wanted to live inNew York, because that's where the jazzwas. He plays the polyrhythms of the be-boppers and avant-garde musicians, withCuban rhythms interspersed and inte-grated, and adds a special excitement toAmerican jazz groups.

Berroa was born into a family of profes-sional musicians. His father, a classical vi-olinist, played in a charanga band with Fa-jardo, and Berroa's grandfather, a flutist,played in a charanga dance band—a bandwith two violins, a bass, a piano, a flute,congas and timbales. Berroa's mother,who died in 1963, "was a beautifuldancer," he recalls. "She met my father ina dance hall in Cuba."

His mother always wanted him to playthe violin. But he preferred watchingdrummers. After she died, Ignacio triedthe violin for a year but couldn't resist thedrums. Finally his father told him, "Okay,man, go ahead."

At the Escuela Nacional de Artes, theNational School of the Arts, he scoredbadly on a drum aptitude test. So his fatherwent to see a trumpeter, Eddie Martinez, afriend, who was also a friend of the drumteacher in school, Fausto Garcia Rivera.Martinez said, "That's a stupid idea thatIgnacio has no talent to play the drums."Fausto, who had studied with Henry Adlerand been friends with Buddy Rich andShelly Manne, made room for Ignacio inclass.

"When I started listening to music, allthe time I wanted to be a jazz musician. Ilistened to Glenn Miller all day long in thehouse, since I was 11 years old. The firsttime I played timbales in Latin music, itwas here in New York City. There are nottoo many drummers in Cuba that playstraight ahead. I can't explain why Iwanted to be a jazz drummer. But I was allthe time in my house like this," and hesnapped his fingers in a syncopated jazzrhythm.

"I had Art Blakey, Max Roach, BuddyRich, and Shelly Manne records. Somepeople had the records before the Revolu-tion, and later we heard the Willis Conoverbroadcasts of jazz over the Voice of Amer-ica. If you have a good radio and a goodantenna in Cuba, you can go to the roof.It's easy. I was always doing that for theWillis Conover program. I was alwaysconcerned about the weather—if it wasgood or bad—for reception. I knew whatwas happening in the U.S. when I was inCuba. I learned to play drums by learningto read music and working with my prac-tice pad. And I listened. Nobody told me

to do this with the bass or that with thesnare. Never.

"And I had a lot of trouble because ofjazz. First of all, Castro doesn't know any-thing about the arts—only sports. I thinkhe went to see the ballet one time, never thesymphony. It's not difficult to be a musi-cian in Cuba. What's difficult is to be a jazzmusician. It's from the U.S. You can't be ajazz musician in Cuba. The governmentdoesn't like it.

"You can play jazz in Cuba once in awhile. But if you have a group, you have toplay Latin music. That's the music of thecountry and represents the taste. I playedin jam sessions in some places—in Pa-quito's home or someone's home. I metPaquito when I started to study music atthe Havana Conservatory, and Paquitowent to another conservatory. We becamefriends; sometimes we worked together inrecording sessions, jam sessions or inclubs. The Rio Club now, which used to becalled Johnny's Drinks, I think, used to al-low us to play jazz on Mondays in the1970s.

"I was a famous musician in Cuba.From 1976 to 1980, I worked all the time.There's one recording studio in Cuba. Iwas in that studio every day making rec-ords with everybody. I was in films."

But in 1980, the government restrictedhis foreign travel for playing. He decidedto take his family to the U.S. But his wifewanted to stay behind because her motherwas dying of cancer. On October 2, 1981,Berroa played at a festival with Dizzy inPuerto Rico and saw members of the fa-mous Cuban jazz group called Irakere. Hiswife was supposed to leave Cuba on Octo-ber 22. "But 12 hours before they weresupposed to leave, someone from immi-gration went to the house and took theirpassports," says Ignacio. They didn't giveany explanation and never let her leave. Ig-nacio thinks it's because his success in theU.S. made Castro unhappy.

On the bright side: "The first time I hada drumset in my house was in the U.S. Therhythm is the most important thing in mu-sic—the rhythm section in jazz is the mostimportant, just as it is in Brazilian and Cu-ban music. For me, the whole thing thatpeople call Latin music comes from Cuba,except for the samba. And there's a fightabout this between the Cubans and PuertoRicans. But the rhythm that the Puerto Ri-cans call bomba and plena is Cuban. Any-way, it's stupid, because there are only twokinds of music, good and bad. But peoplelearned from Cuban music.

"For me, the difference between Brazil-ian and Cuban music is that Brazilian mu-sic is more free. They have a lot ofrhythms—something beautiful. You canmove inside the rhythms. They have fourpeople doing different things on differentpercussions—berimbau, cuica, drums andothers. It's my dream to go to Brazil fortwo months and study the music. Theychange the rhythm two or three times in

one tune. That doesn't happen in Cubanmusic. For me, the Cuban music is not asrich in rhythms as Brazilian music, I guess.You have to be attado [attached] to theclave in Cuban music. But you can put theCuban clave into Brazilian music. If youhave rhythm inside you, you can do what-ever you want to do. In jazz, the rhythmdepends upon whom you play with. I playstraight ahead, and my influences havebeen Max Roach, Art Blakey, Elvin Jones,Roy Haynes and Tony Williams—in thatorder. They have creativity and heart.

"The most important thing in the U.S. isthat I can play jazz with the Cuban influ-ence. I play a lot of rhythms. With Dizzy,you have to play straight ahead, Brazilian,Cuban, and funk. And he likes that youplay in some way straight ahead, especiallyon his solos. Maybe I can use the clave inmy left hand, but playing jazz I have tokeep this up—chang—on the right cymbalwith the right hand. Not everybody can dothat. For that reason, I made an albumwith McCoy Tyner. He heard me on Pa-quito's album and wanted me." Berroamade Mariel (named for the Cuban exodusof 1980) and Paquito Blowing withD'Rivera. The album with McCoy Tyner iscalled La Legenda de la Hora. And Berroahas made another album with Batacum-bele on a label in Puerto Rico.

"When I arrived in this country, Ithought you could find a lot of drummerswho could do a lot of things. But it's nottrue. One drummer plays funk, while an-other plays straight ahead. And then it'simpossible to find a drummer who canboth read music and play a lot of things.People say, 'My specialization is . . .' Forme, Steve Gadd is one of the most beauti-ful drummers. He's in the studio all thetime—with Chick Corea, Paul Simon, andothers. He can do it all. That's what I call adrummer. I got the job with Dizzy becauseI can play a lot of things."

Berroa attributes his special comfort inplaying with Daniel Ponce to their com-mon background, shared age and musicalexpertise. "Ponce knows how to play thenew Cuban music with the new rhythms."Having been in the U.S. only three yearsand getting work, Berroa has caused otherpeople special discomfort. "They getmad," he says. "But I was prepared. I wasnot in Cuba wasting my time. I wanted tobe a jazz drummer. Now Dizzy Gillespie—he's 65, like a father, but a beautiful per-son and one of my best friends, like Ponceis with me. I never dreamed I would receivea phone call from Dizzy Gillespie and beon the same stage with him. For me, that'sa dream."

For Ponce, the shock of deportationfrom Cuba and separation from his sonhas, in one way, turned out brilliantly. Hecould have indulged in self-pity, but in-stead says firmly, "I'm glad that I'm here,because I feel that I'm spreading the wordof Cuba. I 'm Cuban. For me it's not a mat-ter of Fidel or anyone else. I love Cuba."

SJP: Well, the thing is, like anyone else my age, the first bands Iwas into we're the Beatles and the Stones. I'm still a big Beatles fanto this day. I still play Rubber Soul a lot. My mother had a Beatlesrecord and I heard it and wanted to be a pop star ever since. Sowhat happens is that you see that the Beatles do a song called"Honey Don't" written by C. Perkins. So you say to yourself,"Who's this guy C. Perkins?" You go down to your record storeand ask the guy working there, "You got any records by C.Perkins?" He says, "Carl Perkins. Sure." And you take it fromthere, kind of working backwards. I found out about the blues bylistening to the Stones. You hear them do "Little Red Rooster" byWillie Dixon, and you find out that he was also the bass player withChuck Berry. So I just kind of pieced things together until Iworked my way back to rockabilly. I was into the Stones an awfullong time. Charlie Watts is still my favorite drummer; he has greatstyle. And we're quite good friends as well.RS: Didn't the Stray Cats open for the Stones on some dates duringtheir last tour?SJP: Yeah, we opened up for them in America at a few concerts. Isaid to Charlie, "I love your drumming." He said, "You likeme?" And I answered, "Of course!" He was very flattered by thefact that I liked his playing.RS: You recorded with Bill Wyman of the Rolling Stones. How didthat come about and what was it like?SJP: It was the "B" side of the record that he had a hit with inEngland, "Rio DeJaneiro." I was in the studio for about 18 hoursand I couldn't get the little hook to it for the life of me. So we wentout to eat, and I came back and fell asleep in the studio. Bill wokeme up and said, "Jim, it's time to go home. We'll try tomorrow toget it." I said to him, "No. I'm going to do it now or I'm going tostay here forever." So I went in and got it the first time after I hadslept and eaten something. But Bill was real patient.RS: Were you awed by the fact that you were cutting a record witha Rolling Stone?SJP: I guess I would have been awed if I didn't know him. But wehad known each other for quite some time before he asked me toplay with him. Besides, he's so easy to work with. If somebody wasplaying on my record and he messed it up four hundred times in arow, I wouldn't have the patience to have him try to get it right. ButBill sat with me and said, "Jim don't worry about it. Take it again.Relax." It was weird though; he did everything backwards. He hadeverything on the track except the drums. And the bass was a littleout of time. But it was fun.RS: You mentioned that your mother had Beatle records aroundthe house. What other artists were you exposed to as a young kid?SJP: My father had some Hank Williams records and some Elvisrecords too. I listened to them at the same time I began listening toother, newer groups like Led Zeppelin. John Bonham was a greatdrummer. And so was D.J. Fontana, Elvis's drummer. He had asound that was ten feet wide in a big gymnasium. That's the kind ofsound I'd ultimately want to get out of my drums.RS: Did you take drum or music lessons when you were young?SJP: Oh sure. I used to study jazz with Mousey Alexander for quitesome time. I did the Jim Chapin book and the Ted Reed Syncopa-tion book 18 ways—backwards, forward, with one hand, doublestroking it, single stroking it, the whole bit. And it helped me a lot.When I listen to a lot of people play drums today, I really thinkthey can play only four or five beats.RS: How long did you take lessons?SJP: For five years or maybe a little bit more. When I started toplay I was ten years old. I went into it head first; I didn't want toplay baseball or any other sports anymore. It was just the drumsand music. That's all I wanted to deal with.RS: You studied jazz, you played in a blues band and now you'reextremely successful playing rockabilly. Did you ever envisionyourself playing a particular kind of music and going all the way tothe top with it?SJP: No, not really. I just wanted to earn my living as a drummer.

Hey, I played at weddings too. I didn't want to work in a grocerystore or mow lawns as a kid. I always wanted to be a successfuldrummer, and somehow I knew that I would accomplish that.RS: You played a lot with Lee before you two became Stray Cats.SJP: Yeah, that's right. As a rhythm section we used to hire our-selves out. Like we'd put an ad in the Village Voice: "Rhythmsection available." I know what Lee is going to play. I could be inCalifornia, he could be in New York, and I'd still know what lickhe's going to play. We've known each other from our days ingrammar school.RS: So much has been written and said about the relationship be-tween bass players and drummers. What do you think is the perfectrelationship the two should have?SJP: I think the bass player and the drummer have to be almost likethe same person. When I see a group play live, it's either the firstthing I'm impressed with, or else it bugs me. If I see a bass playergoing all over the place and the drummer trying to follow him, I getall uptight. I also get uptight when a drummer is speeding up andslowing down, and the bass player is trying his best to hold thedrummer back. I enjoy nothing about the group if I hear that. Itjust really annoys me.

Take Mick Fleetwood and John McVie from Fleetwood Mac.Now they've been together for how many years as a rhythm sectionand they play very simple. But they're like a rock. You could put asymphony over them and it would be perfectly in time. Bill Wymanand Charlie Watts are the same way. They might not be great tech-nical players, as technical players go, but they're incredibly solidand it shows in the Stones' music. It's the same with Paul andRingo. Paul McCartney is probably still the best bass player inrock today as far as I'm concerned. So what I 'm trying to say is ifthe drummer-bass player relationship is like a rock, then a saxo-phone player or the guitarist won't have to be concerned withcounting. What they're able to do then is take advantage of theconfidence they have in the rhythm section and take off doing theirown thing. It makes the band sound that much better.RS: How do you come up with your snare drum sound?SJP: Dave Edmunds. He really knows what to do. I th ink the StrayCats would be lost without him. He puts all sorts of crazy stuff inour sound. See, we want the sound from the '50s, but in this dayand age you have the technology available to make that sound—once you've got it—even better. We use a lot of different things toachieve that. But if I was in the studio and someone asked me toshow them how I got my snare drum sound, I don't honestly knowif I actually could. I'd probably shrug my shoulders and say, "SeeDave Edmunds." He's really into drum sounds, despite being aguitar player.RS: When working with Edmunds, does he suggest that you play aparticular drum part, or does he merely concentrate on sound?SJP: He suggests things because a lot of times I ' l l say, "Dave, whatdo you th ink about this?" We all have a good working relationshipwith him because we're in on all of the decisions every step of theway. With me and my drums, Dave has gotten to the point wherehe knows what I want and how to achieve that. Dave Edmundsknows as much about rockabilly and rockabilly sounds as anyoneI've ever met.

We met Dave a couple of years ago in London after one of ourgigs. We walked into our dressing room and there's this guy drink-ing all our vodka. So we said, "Who is that guy?" And someonewhispered, "Dave Edmunds." Well, I had known his music, butnot his face. He just came up to us and said, "Let me be yourproducer before someone who knows nothing about your musicspoils it for you." We were in the studio within the week.RS: It seems as if the Stray Cats are always either on the road or inthe studio. How much do you play your drums when you're nottouring and not in the studio?SJP: Hardly ever. I didn' t have a ki t for a long time, and like yousaid, most of the time we're on the road anyway. And if we're noton the road we're in the studio. But I ' l l tell you, ever since I got thiskit from Gretsch with two tom-toms and two floor toms—the big-

gest ki t I've ever had—I've been spending a lot of time playingalong with records and things out of books. It's good fun and goodpractice.RS: Do you th ink you'd ever use that kit or a couple of pieces fromit on stage with the Cats?SJP: If it 's necessary I will. We have a song on the new albumcalled "Rebels Rule," which is kind of like a "Bo Diddley"/"NotFade Away" beat. I used timbales on that tune, and it soundedfabulous. So on stage we've rigged up a thing so I can play themlive.RS: I noticed the way your kit is set up on stage is quite efficientconsidering the fact that you're standing and moving around somuch. Can you explain to me exactly how they're set up?SJP: My roadie, Oliver, is a genius. He invented the concept I use.We just take out the ride and stick in the timbales. So all he has todo is unscrew one thing, take away the cymbal, put in the timbalesand it 's done. I have a platform, and at the bottom of the snare andcymbal stands, he made holes that go into the platform. The standsare attached to the platform by some kind of nylon and lugs. So ifyou turned the platform upside down the drums wouldn't fall off.RS: I guess you never have a problem with your bass drum sliding.SJP: No way. But before he built the platform, my bass drumalways slid around on stage. What we'd really like to do is build abig flight case for the drums and platform, and then we'd neverhave to take anything apart.RS: How about when it comes to miking the drums?SJP: We use real t iny microphones. The mic' on the bass is insidethe drum with a silk-screen front that allows the sound to get out.All the wires, which are very thin, lead to one box, so it looks likethere's nothing up there but the drum and cymbal, which is whatwe want. If there are all these microphones hanging in front of thedrum, they take away from what I 'm trying to do in the first place,which is making it look like it 's only me up there.RS: Is the studio setup any different than the one you use on stage?SJP: Nope, it 's the same thing. I just use an extra 16" crash cymbaland maybe a hi-hat which I keep closed. But I still stand up, andjust use the snare and bass drum.RS: What would you say are the two most important elements ofyour drum style?SJP: Time is one element. No matter what band you play with—Rush or the Stray Cats—you've got to be able to keep good time.The easiest way for a drummer to get sacked out of a group is tospeed up and slow down, speed up and slow down. My meter isreally my most important thing because that's what I'm there for.The other th ing is chops. We go out on the road for four months ata clip, and I have to be able to play an hour and a half a night , everysingle night , without being tired or without having my licks af-fected in any way. You know, you're on the road for a long time,and the chops just have to be there. I play with metal sticks a lot onmy practice pad just playing rudiments so I can keep myself strong.I 'm a skinny person, but I have strong wrists. Playing rock 'n' rolldrums, as any other rock 'n' roll drummer knows, is strenuousbusiness.RS: When you're on the road and playing every night for an hourand a half , how do you keep yourself from losing your edge orgetting bored?SJP: Well, for us right now, most of the kids who come to see theStray Cats have never seen the band perform live, so you naturallywant to play good for them to make a positive and lasting impres-sion. Just the fact that these kids are getting turned on to us for thevery first time is enough to keep me very interested and very con-cerned with how I play. I f I play good that particular night, thenext time the band is in town, these same people are going to bringthei r friends wi th them to the show.

I also play different licks every night. I try and play a new one—whether it's incorporating a rudiment into a lick or whatever.What I 've been doing lately is something I finally found out I cando, and that's playing between the snare drum and the bass drum

more. I can't get too carried away though. I can't play things thatare going to take away from the tightness that the Cats have. But Inever get bored on stage. The road gets boring, but that hour and ahalf on stage each night is mine. Don't talk to me about lawsuits,accountants, record charts, or this, that or the other thing. All Iwant to do is play.RS: In addition to drumming, you've also done some writing. Itseems as if more and more drummers are beginning to contributeto songs.SJP: That's really true. As for me, I'm a lyricist; I just write words.And I really like doing it too. It gives me a pretty good feeling whenI hear them sung on a record.RS: Do you and Brian Setzer work together on Stray Cats songs?SJP: Well, when Brian has written a song that he can't th ink of anylyrics for, he gives it to me. And every now and again, I ' l l come upwith a catchy phrase or something and work with that. Me and Leehave always written together; whether we will use what we writewith the Cats remains to be seen. With the Cats I guess I've writtenmaybe a half dozen songs, a couple of which were hits. "RunawayBoys" is one of them; that was our first hit over in England andEurope. Brian and I wrote it.RS: Have you ever written any melodies?SJP: No, I really don't know that much about that part of songwriting. I know chords on the piano and stuff, but that's about it.Someday I would like to be able to play another instrument well.But right now I'm still trying to improve my drumming.

What you just said about more and more drummers writing issomething I've been noticing too. Take Phil Collins. He orches-trates things. Don Henley from the Eagles writes. Levon Helmfrom the Band used to write. This would make a great question in arock 'n' roll quiz book: Name all the drummers who are song-writers too. Writing songs, to me, is a real talent. Listen to PhilCollins. He's a great songwriter and still one of the best drummersaround. He's left-handed too. He even writes symphonies in hisspare time.RS: Can you describe for me a particularly crazy Stray Cats mo-ment, either on stage or in the studio, that reflects the rapport thethree of you have with each other?SJP: Well, we're loose with each other. Like one time this crazything happened to me. Brian is always hopping on my bass drum. Istand on it and Lee tries to knock me off it. Well, one time he didand I got knocked out.RS: You were actually unconscious on stage?SJP: Yeah. He knocked me off the drum and I hit my head on thefloor. That was in London a couple of years ago. So like the nextday, I was walking down King's Road where all the punks hang outand a guy comes up to me and says, "That was the best gig you everdone!" I said, "What do you mean? I only did half the gig. I gotknocked out!" So he says, "Yeah, yeah I know. That was whatmade it really great!"RS: How much rockabilly do you listen to today for say, drumstyles and riffs?SJP: I listen to a lot of rockabilly for that reason and for entertain-ment too. I still love listening to Gene Vincent, Eddie Cochran andBuddy Holly. Holly had a great drummer playing behind him,Jerry Allison. Out of all the rockabilly drummers, he's probablythe best one I ever heard.RS: Is Allison one of your bigger influences?SJP: Yeah, and D.J. Fontana, Dickie Harrell, Charlie Watts andRingo. Others would be John Bonham and Bernard Purdie. I likeSimon Phillips too. He's a very good friend of mine. When I 'm inLondon, we go drinking together. Simon's completely ambidex-trous; he never has to cross over. On the hi-hat, he just moves hishands over. I think Billy Cobham can do that too.RS: Do you ever see yourself using a drum machine?SJP: I don't th ink I'd use one on record, but I'd maybe like to foolaround with one at home. I don't know. I th ink drums should bemade out of wood. What drum machines do is take people who

really can't play that well and actually make them sound like gooddrummers. Drum machines don't have that human touch, which isvery important in music—any kind of music. I must admit,though, that the Linn drum does get some very decent tom-tomsounds.RS: Well, rockabilly has a very human and emotional quality to it,something that a lot of the techno-rock that's currently heard onthe radio is lacking.SJP: Drumming itself is very emotional. And you have to feel goodabout what you play if it's going to come across with feeling. Aslong as the song swings or rocks, then I know I've done my job.With the Stray Cats, I'm after a simplistic emotional quality. Toomuch drums would definitely clutter things up. I can play somelicks if I want, but I don't want to turn what I do into a circus.RS: Since the band is a trio, you and Lee have a pretty big responsi-bil i ty in terms of filling out the bottom of the Stray Cats songs.SJP: Lee plays that double bass, so he gets that click. That helps anawful lot to fill out the bottom. If he played an electric bass, thingswould sound hollow, I think. The fact that Lee is a very goodplayer doesn't hurt either. Few people can play those stand-upbasses. Lucky for the Cats, Lee is one of them.RS: A lot of people believe rockabilly and the Stray Cats in particu-lar are basically fads. Does that bother you?SJP: No, because I don't think rock 'n' roll is a fad, whether it berockabilly or acid rock. I mean the Rolling Stones are still playing"Twenty Flight Rock'' in front of a hundred thousand people, andthat's an old Eddie Cochran song.

But it's weird, you know, because now they're selling bowlingshirts in Macy's and other big department stores. And we werewearing these things for a long time before they became stylish.But I don't th ink what people say about fads and things affects us,because beneath all that stuff, we're just a good rock 'n' roll band.And there'll always be a place for a band that can really rock.

Jo Jones:

Here is Jo Jones, flowing, confident and unhurried as he sings a song with allfour limbs. His feel is so strong that the pickup to measure four is barely heard,though powerfully felt. The tune is Cole Porter's "Love For Sale" and Jo takesthe bridge. . . •

" Love For Sale "

Transcribed by Dan Hull

Photo

by A

lison

Per

ry

L.A. Studio Roundtable continued from page 23RF: Does a mechanical device like a clicktrack interfere with that magic?Rick: It depends on who can play with aclick and who can't. A lot of musicianscan't play with a click track; it's not onlydrummers. There's more to it than thedrummer. It 's a weird thing. When you putheadphones on, an acoustic guitar is asstrong an influence to the music as theloudest, strongest thing you can play onthe drums. If you play to a click track re-ally well and the bass player or guitarplayer can't play anything to the click, it'sterrible.Vinnie: If you get a guitar player who'sreal on top of it , and you're trying to layback, it inhibits you when you try to go forsomething.Rick: You can't slow him down. He's asloud as you are.RF: How imperative is it to have that skillin the studios today?Jim: You have to do it.Rick: I don't th ink you have to use it , butthey've learned over the years that ratherthan everybody being influenced by theone player who might rush or drag, if youput the click down, it's going to start some-where and finish in the same place. Youdon't have to worry about losing an entiresong because it's twice as fast at the endfrom the way it started out. What happensin between is how the band agrees on thetime. So I th ink if you have people whosetime doesn't rush or slow down, you don'tneed a click.Jim: With the click being like that, wheresomeone rushes a little bit and somebodyelse drags a little bit, when you put it to-gether later on and you don't hear the clickanymore, all that can sound real nice andhuman.Jeff: One thing in today's music, though,is that there is a lot of music where peopleare using time-based stuff to write songsand that's how they're cutt ing them—withsynths and sequencers and what not. Some-times you have to get into that. And thatgets harder because it's not a matter of cut-ting a track to a click. After they take theclick out, it feels good. If some of thoseinstruments are going to be digital, real-time instruments, there are electronic has-sles with them. If you use a Linn drum asyour click, you're playing a figure that's inreal time. I f they add any more synths towhat you heard audibly in your 'phones,there's a milli-second delay, and they haveto use all sorts of stuff to chase that clickand make things lock in.Jim: The Linn is not compatible with digi-tal click.Jeff: Sometimes you go to dates, and theproducers or the artists have the tempothat they want the tune to be cut at, andthey have a little click machine. They take

the time to set the tempo and they listen tofour bars, or a demo, and say, "Yeah,that's the tempo." It is not the tempo andyou know as a drummer, feel-wise orgroove-wise, what the tempo should be.You are playing along and you know thechorus has got to be way up here, youknow the bridge has got to breathe more,you know that the fills sound s t i f f , and i t ' swrong. That's a fine line.RF: Do you say something at that point?Jeff: You try to. But even if you ask any-body who writes songs, there are somesongs, I don't care what tempo you pick,that just don't make it with real time all theway th rough . I remember Seals andCrofts—before any of these things like theLinn came out—used to record with theRoland Maestro. They used to edit , taketape and record pieces of the Maestro atfour different tempos. They would makeall the verse sections one tempo, and all thechoruses were at a tempo slightly above.You knew that when the chorus came, youcould go up a l i t t le bit , because they knewvocally and lyrically you could, and thenyou'd come back down and you'd have theold tempo there. Sometimes that was eas-ier.Craig: I t h i nk what Rick said—that it 's notjust drummers—is important. For thelongest time, we were the only ones whowere responsible for time. Now it's the

whole group.Jeff: But one of the bad pressures, man, isthe fact that some artists and producershave a whole rhythm section there.They're all good players, but getting fivepeople with clicks and the right balance ishard, and a couple of them maybe aren'tmaking it wi th the click. They're demand-ing that they get a good drum track that'sright on wi th the click, so you're trying toconcentrate on playing with the click, butyou want to move with the piano playerand you're going, "No, I can't." It's sohard and you start flipping out. And youknow they're in the booth just listening toyou and the click, but they want everybodyelse to play so you get the feel. [laughs]Rick: It 's s tu f f l ike that that makes youcrazy. People say, "This guy has got anattitude; this guy is crazy." Shit, you listento some jerk tell you, "We have to fire thedrummer—the time is bad." Meanwhile,in the 'phones, you're listening to thisfolk-guitar player who's playing with notime. It sounds like two giant speakers go-ing "WHONG, WHONG," and they ex-pect you to hold the band back.Vinnie: On top of that , you might be run-ning down the tune a couple of times with-out a click and i t ' s grooving. Then theyturn the click on and i t ' s a whole otherscene.Jeff: And that psyches you out. Then you

work for an artist who says, "Why are youknown for keeping such good time? Youshould be listening to my lyrics, rushingwhen I'm rushing and slowing down whenI'm slowing down." [laughter]Rick: There are no answers to some ofthese questions. If you're going to do thiskind of stuff , every day you've got to getup and be prepared to use your resources."Today I'm working for so and so," andyou've got to go check your file on thatperson. "I've got to go in with this snaredrum, and with this thing happening here,and this thing happening there." It's morethan what you think about a click track.RF: You were talking about the computersbefore. How essential is it to be on top ofthat in the studios today?Jeff: It's everybody's personal preference.RF: Is it really personal preference? Or is itexpected of you today?Craig: I th ink it's getting to be now.Rick: Not if you're a drummer. They ex-pect a computer specialist to work on thecomputers. I know synthesizer playerswho go in and play, and there are program-mers sitting right next to them. One personis hired to put his hands on the keys andsomeone else is hired to get the sound.They do the same thing with us. If theywant to hire any of us to go in and programa Linn machine, that's fine, but why hiresomeone who is known as this kind of acraftsman, who is a physical person, tocome in and do the brain work?Jeff: But, by the same token, all of usmight have an extra metal snare drum, anda wood snare drum; you have the tools ofyour trade that you're called upon to use.Sometimes it's nice to know a Linn ma-chine real well—to know how to set it upyourself, to know to write down on a pieceof paper what the tempo is that you're atand whatnot. Sometimes, some of thesepeople don't know how to record it on tapeproperly. It's great for a drummer to knowthe Simmons. And it's good to help some-body and say, "How about if we do halfand half?" It's nice to have the option.They may say, "We want all Simmonshere," and I may say, "I hate playing anall-Simmons ki t . How about if we use areal bass drum, a real snare drum and someSimmons toms?" It's good just to havethose options.Craig: I still feel that we can program drummachines better than keyboard players. It h i nk we can put on more legitimate parts.Jim: Sometimes, Craig, I have found theopposite, like on one particular track I re-cently played on, where I just played thesnare drum. I played two different snaredrum sounds on top of the Linn snaredrum, which made it a total of three snaredrum sounds on this track. The rest of itwas Linn. When I first started doing it, Iwas thinking that I wasn't crazy about the

idea. At one point, I tried to tell them, butI'm not one of those people who says, "Itsucks man, change it!" I hem and haw, so Itried to make it a positive statement,"Maybe I could do a little somethingelse . . . " "No, that's okay, leave it likethat. That's good." So I said "Okay," andkept listening and thinking, "This is stu-pid. It's not what a real drummer wouldplay." You know who programmed themachine before I got there? The second en-gineer! So later on in the evening, after Ihad done my stuff, a synth went on andsome other things, and I said, "Listen tothat thing man! It's a great track." [laugh-ter] I loved the way the drums were mov-ing. They were moving dumb as a post,man. It was something I wouldn't havedone, but it really worked good. Stuff likethat happens and I start wondering ifmaybe I'm to much of a drummer for theLinn machine sometimes. For a long time,I maintained that you couldn't do a shuffleon the Linn machine—the kind of shuffle Ilike to do—but I just did one the other daythat was very convincing.Rick: How's the new Simmons sequencer?Does anyone know?Vinnie: I messed with it at this guy's house.It's just like a regular sequencer and it'sgot a four-bar thing with little dots. Someproducer said it wasn't a real reliable unit,but I've never used it.Jeff: The Simmons themselves aren't reli-able units. The best thing about the Sim-mons is the touch-sensitive pad. Steve[Porcaro] took the pad and hooked it up toa Prophet. It was the Simmons sound but80 times better than you can get out of theSimmons.Craig: A couple of times, in the early days,I wish I would have had computer drums.If somebody wants to do a sequence tracknow with synthesizers—if your're workingfor a producer who you know is going towant everything Nazi-like and 100% per-fect—I'll be the first guy to recommendcutting at least part of it with a drum ma-chine.Rick: I actually like those kinds of me-chanical tracks. I remember in the very be-ginning when they first came out, I walkedin and Steve Porcaro was sitting thereworking with the prototype of the Linnmachine. I said, "This is an interesting lit-tle thing here," and he said, "Yeah? Jeffwon't even walk into the same room withme when I have this machine."Jeff: We all hated those things when theyfirst came out.Rick: But it's good for what you use it for.When I hear someone make a part up, putin all the drum fil ls and do all that stuff ona Linn machine, it's good for certain me-chanical things. When you want any kindof human touch, all the machines play al-most the same. Whenever they say you can

do a whole song and you can link up thesongs, they're really right and it's not badat all. I 'm not critical of it. It serves thepurpose, but there's nothing that is goingto replace that little bit of movement in twoopen bars of a fill that Craig or Vinnie isgoing to play.Craig: Speaking of the Simmons, thiscould be bullshit, but I went to the drumstore and the guy said, "Krampf, you ha-ven't bought any tom heads." I said,"Well, it's been all Simmons," and hesaid, "Oh, have you heard about the inju-ries?" I don't know if this is true, but theSimmons don't give—it's like a brickwall—and all of a sudden there is a rash ofinjuries. I wonder if the problem with myarm is related.Jeff: Dig this: When I first got the Sim-mons, we did a track one day. When youhave the 'phones on and the sounds arehappening, you can't tell how hard you'rehit t ing. I had half my regular set and all thetoms were Simmons. We did about four orfive takes, and that night, man, I won-dered if I had sprained my hand or some-thing. For the next four days in a row, Icould just tell from where my hands hurtthat using the Simmons was exactly whatcaused it. It's like hitting cement. There'snothing giving.Craig: The doctor I saw said this isn't ten-nis elbow, but it was the first case he had

ever seen of what he had to call "drum-mer's elbow." I will get the results Tues-day, but I just had the electro tests and allthat stuff. The doctor thought the ulnanerve was being pushed by this elbow andcausing the lack of feeling. It was very de-pressing. Using the Simmons is the onlything that I can think of that I'm doing dif-ferent.Jim: I've been having a lot of fun with mySimmons. There are so many ways to usethem. But you've got to be careful not tolay into them the same way you do a drum.You don't really have to, which is one ofthe main reasons I like them so much. Idon't have to work so hard.RF: With all of the things they can do toyour drum sound in the studio, does thedrum itself really matter that much?Jim: Well, sometimes I hate tom-toms. Atone session, my tom-toms will sound won-derful, and I'll go to the trouble of puttingthem in a box. But at the next gig, forget it!Then I always think, "What's the use?"Rick: It's not the drum I hate. I hate therooms. If I could do sessions in one roomfor the rest of my life, the room of mychoice, it would be great.Jim: You know who has it great? RogerHawkins and those people down in MuscleShoals. His drums always sound magnifi-cent. They're always in that same room.Rick: Over at Paramount, they put your

drums in this room where there's justenough room for your elbows to move.You hit as hard as you can but don't hear anote acoustically of your drums.Jeff: That's always a drag because you doone session where there's a nice power ampon the headphone system, everything is hi-f i , your toms sound great and the roomsounds great. You get enough bottom outof i t , you're not having trouble with yourfloor tom, you're not having trouble wit hthe snare drum or the bass drum, and thatnight you go somewhere else and the setsounds like shit.Jim: I get demoralized. I hardly feel likeplaying anymore. I love that feeling when I

go in, and I can just sit down and play,man. But if I have to go through this . . .Jeff: The rooms I've played in New Yorkall sound good.Rick: I don't like the sounds in New York.RF: But don't you get to use your owndrums most of the time there?Jeff: I could if I wanted to, but a lot of thestudios in New York have a couple of setsthere, or you can call people like Marotta,Gadd or Ferrone who have extra sets. Youcan call their people and rent their sets.Rick: I wouldn't rent shoelaces from thosepeople in New York. They sent rental kitsto sessions and that's half the reason I left.I couldn't find anybody to set up my

drums in New York. I would hire someoneto set up my drums and that person wouldpawn them. There's no real business there.I must have gone through ten people.Maybe it's getting better now, but you hadto rent drums there unless you wanted tocarry them yourself. I used to call this oneplace for maybe two years for every ses-sion, and they sent drums that had no busi-ness being in anybody's case. They ex-pected you to fix their drums. I would get acall from them and they would say, "Whatdo you do? How do you make a snaredrum sound good? What should we do tothe toms?" The tom heads would be black.Every drummer in the world had tuned anddetuned them for the last five years, andthey put them on the snare drum. I remem-ber hit t ing a snare drum and the wholedrum ended up in my lap.Jim: That's what you get for being an ani-mal.Rick: That's what you get for being in NewYork.RF: There is a special set of politics inher-ent in the music business. Would you bewilling, without mentioning names andjeopardizing your gigs, to talk about that?Jim: People used to call me on the phoneasking questions like, "How's everything?What have you been doing?" Then theywould proceed to tell me that they knewthey could play, but they were so frus-trated that they didn't get calls to go intothe studio. It blew me away. They'll beta lking about the politics, and saying thatit 's who you know. I got to the point whereI would really preach against tha t , so nowit's hard for me to even talk about politics.I know it exists, but I think for years, I justdenied it.Jeff: Politics is only involved in a certainclique of studio work where there are con-tractors. I can tell you right now, the time Idid sessions, half of the sessions would befor independent artists or producers, andhalf the work would be from contractorswho asked if I could make this session orthat session on such and such a date. Thecontractors make what the highest paidmusician makes, and all they do is call upthe musicians and make sure they're thereto fil l out the contracts. Some contractorscontract every kind of date, from one veinof music to the next. One time I recom-mended Vinnie. This guy is the kind ofcontractor who calls up all the time, andwhen you can't make it , he asks, "Whoshould I get?" Okay, I said, "Try Vin-nie," and the guy says, "Well, what has hedone?" I told him what I knew Vinnie haddone, and the guy says, "Well, I 've got tohear him first . I can't take a chance." Sowhat the hell did he ask me for? If you callme up and ask me, I'm doing you a favorby saying, "Try this cat out." This oneparticular contractor blew at least fiveweeks of work for Vinnie by not goingdown to at least give a listen, when he

could have seen him in any number ofclubs.RF: When was that?Jeff: Here's the big joke. Everybodyknows how hip Vinnie plays, and it wasn'tthat long ago that these idiots were pullingthis. That's the jive that everybody runsinto at one time or another.

There are so many different kinds ofmusic that you know a lot more peoplecould be working. If I wanted to be a con-tractor and be successful and well liked, Iwould really get into the album I was hiredto contract. I would get wi th the producerand listen to all the tunes they planned ondoing, because producers are, in fact, theones who say, "Yeah, I would like to haveso-and-so on my album." Nobody's goingto doubt the fact that some artists dig hav-ing name players. "Gee, I always wantedto have so-and-so play on my album. Can Ihave this rhythm section; can this guy ar-range?" If I were a contractor, I would lis-ten to the tunes—if I were a real musicianwho knew music and had a feeling—and Iwould say, "See, this is a Chicago bluesshuffle, so I 'm going to get this drummer,and these two guitar players should be onthis because they have the finger-pickingthing down." I would do that kind ofthing, and still th ink about continuity forthe artist, if it 's the kind of thing where it'ssupposed to sound like a band.RF: When the phone starts ringing off thehook, is there really a fear that you can'tsay no to a job, or you won't be calledagain?Jeff: It depends on how much you are intothe gig and doing what you're doing. I re-member when Toto started, my old mansaid, "There go your sessions," and peo-ple were saying, "Why do you want tostart a group? So-and-so and so-and-soaren't going to be calling you. If you're onthe road for four months straight and thenyou're doing an album, you can't make allthese sessions. Everytime this certain artistor producer who used to use you asks thecontractor to get you, and you aren't avail-able, they go to the new kid. They becomeused to that person and establish a rela-tionship with that person." That personmay also be the type who takes the contrac-tors out to lunch and buys them Christmasgifts. Movie and TV people do that all thetime; that 's a whole other scene. So peoplesaid, "There go all those gigs." The thingis, there went all the gigs with the jive con-tractors, but not those with the friends andpeople who are jus t making records.They're the ones you enjoyed doing any-way—the ones who still call you at homeand say, "What are you doing tomor-row?" There are some people who, forwhatever reasons, choose doing the wholerealm of studio work, so they have to putup with a lot of bullshit. They have to putup with somebody saying, "Well, you'vegot to play Saturday; you've got to do me afavor," and these players feel obligated to

do it or they'l l get on the bad side of thecontractor.RF: The TV and film contracting politicsare different?Jeff: From what I hear.Rick: I would hear things that used to getme when I was younger. I guess I've mel-lowed with age, but now, nothing reallybothers me that much. You hear aboutsome people working and you know it'spurely a political thing. There are a lot ofmusicians who work and who do their gigokay, and they're very political. I th ink alot of talented players don't know how todo that. I'm sure all of us get these callsfrom people, "How do I break into thebusiness?"Jim: Right away that tells me somethingabout them. When I was young, I calledShelly Manne and asked what size his hi-hats were and things, but I never wouldhave thought of calling him and asking,"How do you get into the studio?"Jeff: Some people call and ask, "Howmany sessions did you do this week?"What is that?Jim: What does that have to do with mu-sic?Rick: I don't even think about those kindsof things. I always figured it's like being agun slinger, and there's always a new kidwho comes into town and says, "I'm afaster, quicker draw than you; I'm this andthat." When it really comes down to it andyou play, some things you're going to play

great on and some things you're not goingto play great on. You have good days andbad days—we're human beings. Politics ispolitics. It's hard for me—not having anyidea how to handle politics—to figure outthe social situation of recording. Some-times you work with people you don't l ikeand you don't even want to know them—you have nothing in common with them.I'm not talking about producers. I'm talk-ing about everybody. People don't alwaysl ike me.Jim: To even consider politics in whateverl ine of work you're in, you're alreadyjumping into a game that you have to beprepared to play. For me, I don't want toknow about it.RF: But it's real.Rick: But he's saying that it's not real tohim, and I understand what he's saying.You don't want to have to think that ithappens.Jeff: The thing is to realize that it's there,even though it hasn't affected a lot of us.Certain contractors say, "You have towork this date because if you don't, you'llnever work for me again." That happensand some people make those choices be-cause they have to out of necessity.Jim: Yeah, it's not that you're being blind,or closing your eyes to the realities aroundyou.Jeff: But believe me, without politics youcan be happy and work.Craig: They say that the ultimate of that

exists in New York commercials.Rick: From my experience, because of thepeople I worked with in commercials inNew York, I can't see it there. But, it's trueeverywhere.Jeff: It's really in the Los Angeles movieindustry.Jim: I heard it was in Nashville. [Everyone .agrees]Rick: the very first session I did in L.A.was when Spinoza brought me into town in1971 to do a Paul Williams album. A guyin the next room at A&M came out toSpinoza and said, "Hey, how you doingman? What's your name?" "DavidSpinoza." "Who's that drummer?" "Afriend of mine from New York." "Yeah?Ya know, we have a lot of great drummershere in Los Angeles." That's politics. Itrears its head in every aspect of every busi-ness.Jim: The best thing is to dance above it anddo your best. If people call you for ses-sions, fine, and if they don't, let your mu-sic come out. It doesn't matter if it's in thestudios. You'll end up in studios if youplay on records. You'd be amazed howmany people call me, not just kids, butadults, asking how to get into the studios.Asking questions about getting into thestudios is not the way to get into studios.That has nothing to do with it.Rick: You're working in some sleezydump, some producer who may be in the

audience hears you and knows he can getyou for nothing, and that's your first ses-sion.Jeff: I don't care who you know. You haveto be able to play.Rick: It's a difficult thing. It was real hardfor me moving from New York to LosAngeles. People said to me, "Call this pro-ducer; call this person," and I never coulddo it, ever. There are some people who cando that, but I never could. It took me yearsto call Spinoza, and I grew up with the guy.There are two or three people in New YorkI can do that with. Those are the onlyphone calls I make, and they're more so-cial calls—they're really my friends. Iworked with them for ten years. Thatwould be like Jeff calling David Paich—that's friendship.Jim: You see? Here in this room, every-body was unanimous when Rick said hewasn't the kind of person who could callpeople for work. Nobody in this roomcould do that if they had to.Rick: I do know musicians who call all thetime, and that is how they work.Jim: There's nothing wrong, necessarily,with somebody having a different person-ality than the guys in this room. [laughter]There are aggressive people in the worldand there's nothing wrong with that aslong as they can back it up.RF: Everyone in this room has gonethrough super, super busy times when the

phone is ringing off the hook. Again, justas in any job, there's something calledburn out. You keep saying yes becauseyou're never really sure when the next gigis, but you are doing more than you canhandle.Jeff: It's just like anybody in life doinganything. You know your limits and that'sit, period. It's no different for drummersto burn out than for you to burn out.Rick: When you get there, I think youlearn from your mistakes. I know I did it inNew York and I stopped doing it. I realizedthat I can't do this. I was one of those reallucky guys who everybody was calling todo their sessions, so I took everything for awhile.Jeff: And it was fun to play.Rick: Then it gets not to be fun after awhile and you stop. What do you thinkwe're doing here? If we were working allthe time, we wouldn't be able to come overhere on a Sunday afternoon.Jeff: It's not like it was seven or eight yearsago either. When the disco scene was hap-pening, everybody was working. Youworked four sessions a day, grooved andyou stayed up.Craig: For me, the first thing that happensis that the attitude will start to go. Whensomeone would ask me to do something,where normally I would say, "Sure, fine,we'll try this," all of a sudden, I wasn't soagreeable to try things. Then I realized thatI would be hurt more that way than thin-ning out some things and taking a lit t le ofthe burden off my mind.Jim: I hardly ever work. There was a pe-riod from about '71 to '73 where I did whatyou're saying, almost every day, at leastone session, and sometimes three a day. Ialmost killed myself.

Thank God I didn't get the ultimatehouse with the tennis court and all that.You can really be misled into doing some-thing like that. In this business, there'smore money being made by the work thatwe do than a lot of the highest paying jobsanywhere. There were years where I madeway more money than I thought was reallyright. I was always thinking, "What am Idoing? I 'm just beating on things."[laughter]Rick: You're a magician.RF: Your statement, Jim, leads me to thenext question. Has any one of you in thisroom given any consideration to the factthat you may not be doing this forever?Vinnie: I freak out about that all the time. Ijust wonder what I'm going to do when Igrow up.Rick: Every once in a while I say to myself,"How long can I do this?" Every monthyou get to where you're saying, "I'mreaching a certain age and maybe peopleare going to think I'm burnt. What shouldI do next? Should I go on to another busi-ness?" And then two days later, I say, "Ilove to play. I could play in clubs again like

when I started and enjoy myself."Jeff: What we do takes a lot of our healthand youth—a lot of energy. We're all artis-tic, sensitive-type people and, I think, justlike with anybody else, we've got a certainamount of time where the physical bodycan let us do what we're enjoying right nowat the l imit that we take it to.Rick: You said the key—to the limit towhere we take it now.Jeff: Obviously, the thing we do happensto be something we love. We're lucky andfortunate enough to be doing somethingartistic. We all learn things besides drumsthat are involved in our work. Hopefully,there are other things you can do that per-tain to music.Vinnie: I go on some dates and see somepeople my age and younger who can writetunes and can go on to be conductors oranything. If I don't start doing somethingelse, like trying to write tunes or some-thing, what the hell am I going to do?What do you do, take some night classes?Jim: I consider you as being young andfresh in the business, isn't that right?Vinnie: That's because I've only been do-ing it for a couple of years, but I'm 27 now.Jim: You started before I did then. I didn'tstart unt i l I was 29, basically. To me, a per-son your age, with your talent, has all thisbefore you. You know what you ought todo right now? This is my favorite thing totell people who are still in their 20's. If youstarted right now, with all your spare time,learning to play something like the key-boards, or guitar, or whatever strikes yourfancy, can you imagine how good you'll beplaying that instrument in five years andwhat a new awareness you'll have of mu-sic?Rick: It's a hard thing to start over.Jim: It's not starting over; it's beginning.You have got to want to do it, obviously.Vinnie: Mike Baird says we'll never be outof a gig.Rick: That's a great attitude.Jeff: We'll never be out of a gig.Rick: I always feel like every time I work,it 's my last gig. I have been such a loner thewhole time I've played. I'm always offalone, just a drummer, never really con-nected to any group, so I don't have thatkind of a social thing where I have a lot offriends in the business coming up to meand saying, "Don't worry about it."Where were they those six awful monthswhen I moved to Los Angeles?Craig: I th ink it's what Jeff said—it's aslong as we can perform at that level. Forme, it didn't really get going until I was 33or 34, but I consider now that my fast ballis still good, as long as I can pitch . . .Jim: A lot of the stuff I'm doing nowadaysis, to me, stuff that almost anybody on thescene could handle. So I've been findingout more and more the last few years that,in order for me to really satisfy a lot of mymusical feels, I have to create my own

thing. And that also helps bring a newquality to each new session.RF: Is the ultimate goal doing your ownthing? For you, Jeff , it was, wasn't it?Jeff: It's fun regardless of what it is.Rick: It's fun if it's successful.Jim: But see, dig this, look what Jeff hadgoing for him. He grew up with those guysin Toto.Jeff: It's real funny, because it was fun inhigh school, and it was the same group ofguys with that chemistry. Everybody hasbeen together since we were 10, 11, 12years old, except for [lead singer Bobby]Kimball. That makes it easy.Jim: All good things come to you when

you're in a band. You get the best. You getmuch more than just being a studio drum-mer. What is that? But let's face it, being ina band was how we all started, wasn't it?Jeff: And it's not whether the band has arecord deal or is successful or whatever.Because of the innocence of childhood,you always remember the group whoplayed in the garage. How long did youplay in a back garage of an alley, man,seven days a week? Forever, man, fiveyears straight and that's the kind of s tuf fyou grooved on. You didn't make anymoney! Some people get in bands out ofnecessity instead of out of love.Jim: That's the key right there—love.

An Approach ForPlaying in Odd TimeIt wasn't until recent years (with the rise of fusion, jazz rock andprogressive rock) that the practice of playing in odd time signa-tures became commonplace. We all feel comfortable with eventime because we've grown up with i t . Most of the music we'veheard has been even-metered music. And beyond music, we walk,swim, run, etc., in even time, so it seems only natural that learningto play odd time can ini t ia l ly be awkward and frustrating. Perhapsif we take one step backward and work from a position of comfortand familiari ty (that is 4/4 time), we can build a foundation fromwhich we can leap three steps forward.

For now let's concentrate on feeling 7/8 time. Since four quarternotes equal one measure of 4/4, then eight 8th notes also equal onemeasure of 4/4. I f we take away one 8th note from a 4/4 measure,we have seven 8th notes left, or 7/8.

Play the following beat: .

By dropping the last 8th note of the measure, we now have thefollowing beat:

Play this figure un t i l it feels comfortable. Count each beat outloud at first and then try playing without counting aloud. Relax.Make it feel good. Speed is of no concern.

When you feel somewhat comfortable, try combining the twobeats. This will help you understand the difference between theeven and odd measures.

The following exercises are combinations of quarter notes and8th notes for the bass drum. When played in 4/4, some of thefigures will sound l ike drum beats we've all played before. Playeach 7/8 beat separately over and over. Then combine it with itscorresponding 4/4 beat just l ike we did in C.

Part 1

by Rod Morgenstein

H.H. OR Cym.

Pho

to b

y Liss

a W

ales

Now play these rhythms which concentrate on the snare drum:

The following exercise combines some of the figures from D and E:

Bear in mind that the preceding exercises are samples of just a few different note combinations. Each exercise was designed to emphasizechanging rhythms in either the snare drum or bass drum, but not both. It should be apparent that the potential combinations are endless.Try experimenting on your own.

In Part 2 of this series, we'll expand our understanding and facility in odd time signatures by utilizing more complicated 16th-notepatterns.

Miking For Mallet InstrumentsIn the initial stages of learning to play mal-let instruments, it 's very important to use awide variety of dynamic levels while prac-ticing in order to develop a big roundsound. When played properly, mallet in-struments can project a lot of sound. How-ever, when playing in a group with drumsand one or more amplified instruments,projecting enough sound gets to be a realproblem. Without using some sort of am-plification, mallet players end up at a realdisadvantage.

There are a number of alternatives avail-able that can help amplify and project yoursound. These alternatives fall into two cat-egories: microphones and pickups. Bothsystems require amplification—either aP. A. system or an amplifier-speaker com-bination.

One of the first pickups was designed byMusser Industries and is called the ampli-pickup. This system consists of two longbars filled with magnetic pickups that at-tach to the outside frame of a vibraphone.The magnetic pickups are designed to am-plify the sound of the metal bars of a vibra-phone. This pickup will not work for a ma-rimba or xylophone since neither has barsthat contain metal. The ampli-pickup isrun through a P. A. or an amplifier to boostthe sound. This system is rather inexpen-sive, but there are some inherent problemswith the sound. The magnetic pickups arenot that sensitive, and the metal content ofthe vibe bars is inconsistent, so the pickupdoesn't get an even sound. Also, thepickup is placed right under the bar andthere is usually a very noticeable poppingsound each time you hit the bar. This pop-ping sound can be altered by using a limiterto clip the sound of the init ial attack. Thesound will be more even, but the dynamicrange of your playing will be more limited.

Another pickup system is offered byboth the Deagan Company and the Bar-cus-Berry Company. Deagan offers a lineof vibes that have a pickup imbedded ineach bar at the nodal point. Barcus-Berrywill install a similar system onto any vibra-phone or marimba that you send them.Both systems are of much the same qual-ity. The pickup placed in each bar is notmagnetic. It's pressure sensitive so thatyou can amplify either a metal bar or woodbar instrument. The advantage of this kindof pickup is that you get a lot of signal barsound that can be amplified. You also have

the option of adding preamplifier elec-tronic effects, like a phase shifter, chorus,fuzz tone, wah wah, digital delay, etc.There are, however, other factors to con-sider with this system.

Because of the placement of the pickupin each bar, you get a popping sound simi-lar to the ampli-pickup. The first soundthat the pickup hears is the attack of themallet on the bar followed by the sustain ofthe note. Another factor concerns thequality of the sound. With vibes and ma-rimba, the sound generated acoustically isa combination of the bar vibrating and theair column moving up and down the reso-nator shaft. With this system, the pickupmostly hears the bar sound (since that'swhere the pickup is placed), rather than acombination of bar and resonator. For thisreason, instruments with this pickup sys-tem can project a lot of sound, but theyhave a distinctly different timbre thanacoustic mallet instruments.

Microphones are probably the mostcommon way of amplifying mallet instru-ments. The standard way of miking a vibeis to place two overhead mic's in front ofthe instrument pointing down towards thekeyboard. This only works well if you'resituated on a bandstand with no one be-hind you. Otherwise, the other instru-ments will leak into the vibe mic's. An-other alternative is to place a couple ofmic's underneath the vibes or marimba sothat the resonators act as a shield fromother sounds leaking into the mic's. Thisdefinitely gives you more volume, but thequality of sound is a li t t le thin, because themic' is mostly picking up the bar sound,rather than a combination of bar and reso-nator sound. You can alleviate this prob-lem somewhat by using a good equalizer tohelp round out the sound.

Another microphone is PZM (pressurezone microphone), which is made byCrown. It is an unusual mic' not only in itsquali ty, but also in its design. It looks like aflat plate or disc. This mic' is available in anumber of different sizes. The most practi-cal one to use is the 2LV model. The PZMis not placed on a stand. It is worn on yourshirt! One advantage of this mic' is that itpicks up the same sound you hear whileplaying. The other advantage is that yourbody acts as a shield between you and theother instruments. You can set up right infront of the drums or bass, and there will

be no leakage into your mic' from theother instruments. You do, however, haveto be careful not to have any other instru-ment facing towards you, otherwise itssound will leak into your mic'. You canmove from vibes to marimba wearing thisone microphone and it will pick up fromwherever you move your body. This is areal advantage because you only have tocarry one small mic' rather than a numberof mic's, mic' stands and cables. This sys-tem of miking gives the most naturalacoustic sound of any I've tried so far.

In general, i t ' s best to experiment withdifferent equipment before you buy any-thing. Remember that choosing a pickupsystem is very much like buying a stereosystem. All the components must be com-patible. A high-qual i ty mic' playedthrough a low-quality amplifier is just notgoing to sound good. Let your ear be thejudge of what sounds best. Make sure youpurchase a system that is practical for yoursituation.

by David Samuels

gets used up, becomes obsolete, or losesvalue from natural causes. Depreciation isfigured on the basis of a recovery period ofa certain number of years, and a certainpercentage of the value of the item peryear. If this sounds complicated, it is, andyou should definitely get help to figure thisout. Each item is to be listed individuallyand figured individually. Since deprecia-tion of items can go on over several yearsand be added to each year, a depreciationschedule can become quite an accountingeffort. Depreciation information is avail-able in various IRS publications, especially#534—"Depreciation."

The question does come up as to the dol-lar value of a depreciable i tem, andwhether the item should be shown as de-preciable equipment or rather listed underthe heading of supplies, which includes ex-pendable items like sticks and heads, andin which the entire cost of the item is takenin the year purchased. For example, obvi-ously a new drumset should be depreci-ated. But what about the purchase of a$25.00 piece of hardware? It meets allthree requirements listed above, but is itreasonable to depreciate it over the mini-mum three-year period? Probably not.IRS considers the key word to be "reason-able." Although not spelled out in the reg-ulations, the general th inking among IRSexaminers is that small-cost items shouldbe grouped into the "Supplies" categoryand taken in one year, leaving only the

items of larger value and unquestionabledepreciability to go into the depreciationschedule. What you should do is come tosome arrangement with your tax prepareras to how you wish to handle this category,and then be consistent from year to year.

Also, with regard to equipment, do notoverlook the Investment Credit. Sixty per-cent of the cost of equipment with a three-year life or one-hundred percent of the costof equipment with a life of over three yearsis considered "qualified investment creditproperty." Ten percent of such costs canbe deducted from your income tax liabil-ity. This credit is claimed on Form 3468.

16. Freight. If you have to pay to haveyour equipment shipped to a job site, youcan list the freight charges.

17. Fuel. This might include gas for yourbusiness vehicle. Also, in cold areas wherefuel is purchased for heat, you might beable to list fuel used to heat a business loca-tion, such as a rehearsal studio, teachingspace, or storage space.

18. Gifts. This could include gifts to pro-spective employers, as a promotional itemfor the sake of obtaining work. Addition-ally, if you are an employer, you can de-duct up to $25.00 per employee for gifts tothem—such as Christmas hams or othert radi t ional employee-appreciation-typegifts.

19. Insurance. If you insure your busi-ness equipment (drums, amps, etc.), thecost of that insurance should be listed. Ifyou are an employer, the cost of insurance

covering your employees (medical, dental,etc.) should also be listed.

20. Interest Expense. If you are payinginterest on the purchase of business equip-ment or on a mortgage for a business loca-tion, that should be listed. The interest youpay on your home mortgage is deductibleto the percentage that the home is used forbusiness purposes. This is explained fur-ther under "Office in Home."

21. Janitorial. If you maintain a busi-ness location and require janitorial service(perhaps in a rehearsal, recording or teach-ing studio outside your home), that shouldbe shown.

22. Laundry and Cleaning. This refersto the cost of laundering and cleaning theclothing specifically designated for busi-ness use. In this case, your band outf i tmight qualify. There is a matter of inter-pretation relative to how band clothing fitsthe regulations pertaining to deductible"Uniforms and Work Clothes." See theheading for that.

23. Legal and Professional Fees. If yourequire the services of a lawyer or otherprofessional relating to your business, orperhaps a CPA (if not shown under "Ac-counting") the cost would be shown here.

24. Licenses and Permits. I f you requirean Excise License to be a self-employedperson or partnership, this would qual i fy .If you stage your own performance or con-cert and require any kind of municipal per-mit, that expense would also be listed here.

25. Miscellaneous. This is a catch-all

category, but don't plan to dump a lot ofexpenses here. A large figure here will de-mand explanation and increase the l ike l i -hood of an audit. Legitimate expenses thatjust don't fit any pre-determined categorydo go here, but keep them minimal , and beable to explain or document them if asked.

26. Office Expenses. I f you maintain anoffice operation outside your home, perti-nent office expenses such as rent and over-head go here. There is a separate categoryfor "Office in Home."

27. Office in Home. This can be a largecategory if you operate your business inyour home as a self-employed contractoror partner. It isn't likely that as an em-ployee you would be running an office op-eration (relative to drumming work), butperhaps you give drum lessons in yourhome. You may deduct a percentage ofyour home mortgage interest or rent basedon that percentage of the house that is usedfor your business. Also, you may deductthe percentage of uti l i t ies that go towardthe business operation. There are very spe-cific regulations on this, and you shouldseek advice. Certain office expenses arecategorized separately.

28. Office Supplies. This includes paper,pencils, envelopes, contract blanks, sta-ples, typewriter ribbons and any of the ex-pendable office materials you might use toconduct your office operation. If you do alot of arranging or transcribing, don't for-get staff sheets, pens, ink, etc.

29. Parking. If you must pay to parkwhile at work or rehearsal, you might beable to show that as an expense. If you aretravel ing, be sure to show airport andother terminal parking.

30. Pension. This refers to personal re-t irement plans. I f you are an employee,you may contribute a portion of your in-come to an Individual Retirement Account(IRA); if your are self-employed or a part-ner, you would make deposits to either anIRA or a Keough Plan.

31. Postage. Postage for mailers, promomaterials, photos, etc., would be listedhere.

32. Printing. The cost of print ing upyour mailers, table tents, business cards,etc., could be shown here, if not groupedunder "Advertising/Promotion."

33. Rent on Business Property. Thiswould refer to the amount of rent youmight spend on a business location otherthan your own home. For a musician, thismight be a rehearsal or teaching studio;some place that actually generates incomefor you. If you pay rent on a storage space,there is a category for that expense.

34. Repairs—Auto or Truck. Thiswould be the cost of maintaining yourbusiness vehicle, or that percentage of thetotal cost that you declare your vehicle tobe used for business.

35. Repairs—Building. If you own orrent a business space or must repair thatportion of your home specifically desig-

nated as your "Office in Home," such re-pairs should be listed.

36. Repairs—Equipment. Repairs todrums, amps, or any business-relatedequipment go here. If you operate an of-fice, you might be able to list repairs toyour typewriter, adding machine, etc.

37. Salaries and Wages. I f you are anemployer and you do pay salaries, thenthose are shown here. Also shown in thiscategory are certain types of cash bonusesand gifts, which are interpreted by the IRSas income for the employee.

38. Storage. This is a category for theexpense of storing business items. Store-yourself rental spaces are a good example.If you go on the road and are therefore re-quired to store personal items, that mightbe deductible, but that is open to question,so get advice.

39. Subscriptions. Subscriptions to pro-fessional association and trade journalsand other music publications should alsobe listed. Examples would be ModernDrummer, Mix, Billboard, down beat, Re-cord, etc. I f you pay for a union newslet-ter, over and above your dues, that shouldbe shown.

40. Supplies. This is another large cate-gory for drummers, because it includes theexpendable supplies such as, sticks, heads,cables, nuts, bolts, felt washers, plastictubes, and other items that we use upquickly. I f you run an office, keep this cat-egory separate from "Office Supplies" for

the sake of clarity.41. Tax—Auto or Truck. Taxes and

road-use fees pertinent to your business ve-hicle may be listed. Basic registration andlicense fees are questionable, althoughcommercial registration might be listabledepending on how the vehicle tax is figuredby the state. If you purchased the vehiclethis year, the sales tax is deductible, andthere's a separate category for that too.

42. Tax—Business. I f you must pay Ex-cise Tax or other permission or use tax tooperate your business, that tax should belisted as a business operating expense.

43. Tax—City/County. If you must paysome sort of municipal taxes relative toyour business operation, they should belisted.

44. Tax—Payroll. This refers to taxesyou would pay as an employer on behalf ofyour employees, such as matching SocialSecurity payments.

45. Tax—Personal Property. Explainedabove, for your vehicle.

46. Tax—Property. I f you own propertyrelative to a business operation and payproperty tax, it should be listed. You mightbe able to list property tax on your home inthe percentage that you declare it for busi-ness use. The rest of your property taxwould then be set against your gross per-sonal income as a personal expense.

47. Tax—Sales. This would include salestax on items purchased for use in your

business. If the purchase is very large, salestax may be shown separately here, but it ismore common to just take the total outlayfor the purchase and show it under "Sup-plies" or "Equipment," rather than tobreak it down to both purchase price andsales tax.

48. Tax—Other. Any other tax youmight have to pay that pertains to yourbusiness operation and doesn't fall intoany of the above categories would go here.

49. Telephone. This refers to the ex-pense of your telephone pertinent to thebusiness operation. Your basic monthlyphone rate is not deductible. However, ifyou use an extension phone in your homeoffice, that extension phone charge is de-ductible. Also deductible is the cost oflong-distance calls made for business pur-poses. If you maintain an outside office,then the entire phone bill would be deduct-ible (except any personal long-distancecalls made on the office phone).

50. Tools. If you purchase tools specifi-cally for use in your business (such as handtools to carry in a trap case for drum re-pair, or workbench tools for maintainingyour equipment at home), you shouldshow them as expenses. However, be rea-sonable. It would be hard to jus t i fy a tablesaw or an auto-timing light as a drum-re-lated tool.

51. Travel and Moving Expenses. This isa very important category. When you are

on the road, it may be possible to deductvirtually every expense. The cost of yourtravel (be it mileage and fuel in your owncar or commercial carrier expense), thecost of food (either restaurant or groceries)while away from home, phone calls per-taining to business and just about every-thing can be listed. The cardinal rule here isto keep everything—every sales slip and re-ceipt—and then go over them with yourtax advisor.

You can list the cost of travel relating tolooking for a job, such as going to audi-tions or interviews. You can also list mov-ing expenses when relocating to take a newjob. But be careful here—this has a timeregulation attached. As an employee, youmust be able to show that you have workedin the new location for 39 out of the 52weeks after arrival at the new job locationin order to deduct the move. For a self-em-ployed person or partner, the stipulation is39 weeks during the first 12 months afterarrival, and a total of 78 weeks for the 24months following arrival. There are otherregulations specifically regarding self-em-ployed people moving for business pur-poses, too numerous to go into here. Thisis an important area for musicians, sincewe do tend to travel and/or relocate fairlyoften for our work. You should definitelyget all the information you can from theIRS or your tax preparer before you makeyour final determination of expenses in this

category.52. Uniforms. IRS Publication #529—

"Miscellaneous Deductions," dated No-vember '82 states: "Generally, you maynot deduct the cost and upkeep of workclothing. You may deduct the cost and up-keep of special equipment or work clothesif they are required as a condition of youremployment and are not suitable for every-day use. To qualify for the deduction, bothconditions must be met." The regulationgoes on specifically about musicians andentertainers, saying that they " . . . maydeduct the cost of theatrical clothing andaccessories if they are not suitable foreveryday use." This is another categoryopen to interpretat ion. Obviously a span-gled jumpsuit in dayglo orange would notbe suitable for everyday use. But whatabout a tuxedo? Part of the interpretationdepends on what the item is, and part onhow it is used. The use of a totally uniformoutfit among all the members, such as afancy tuxedo worn by a show group, couldadd validity to your expense claim. Tuxand tails outfi ts for symphony players aregenerally allowed, since they are requiredby the employer and not optional for theplayer. But even if your outfi ts are uniformin nature, if they could be purchased "offthe rack" by anyone, the likelihood of anallowable expense is reduced.

53. Utilities. If you operate a business

location or an office at home, the utilitiespertinent to the office can be listed. Use thesame percentage of your office-in-homeut i l i t ies as you did for the rental or housepayment interest figure. Your phone hasalready been listed, so keep this limited topower, water, sewer, trash pickup, etc.

There are other categories or expensesyou could list, and certainly those aboveare not applicable to everybody. Often asingle expense could be listed under two ormore categories. It 's considered best by taxpreparers to list many small expenses inmany different categories, rather than afew large expenses in only a few categories.This enables you to be more specific aboutthe expenses, keep them more easily verifi-able and understandable, and thus possi-bly avoid the likelihood of an audit. Use al i t t le organized thought and start now. Re-duce your business operation to its small-est parts. Then sort out the expenses thatapply to each of these parts. You should beable to set up a file of income, receipts andexpenses now, so that when it comes timeto figure out your taxes, you have your in-formation well-documented and easily ar-ranged to lay out for your tax preparer. I fyou are your tax preparer, then be sure toget all the pertinent data from IRS and lo-cal tax offices before you go to work. Thekey is to be well-documented, well-in-formed and well-organized.

Where To Go For HelpThe IRS provides several methods of ob-

ta in ing information regarding your taxesand tax preparation. You can get anypublication you need free for the asking bycontacting your local IRS office. Theyhave lists of their publications arranged bysubject, so you'll know what to ask for.Local IRS offices have tax-help "hotlines," which you may call with specificquestions to get specific answers. These arel is ted under the "U.S. Government"heading in your local phone directory.Also, IRS has a nationwide service called"Tele-Tax and Tax Dial" directory, whichallows you to call in to get pre-recorded in-formation arranged on brief cassettes bysubject matter. With a dial phone, you getan operator who will set you up with thecassette you want. With a push-buttonphone, you can code in your request di-rectly, according to the number listed inthe "Tele-Tax and Tax Dial" directory,which you can get at the IRS office orthrough the mail. The publications I usedin preparing this article were IRS Pub. No.334, "Tax Guide for Small Business," IRSPub. No. 529, "Miscellaneous Deduc-tions," and IRS Pub. No 534, "Deprecia-tion." I'd also like to gratefully acknowl-edge the personal assistance of Mrs.Shirley Nakagawa, Public Affairs Officerfor the IRS in Honolulu, Hawaii.

Lee

If there's one thing that can be said aboutJoan Jett and her Blackhearts, it's thatthose kids have feel. The raw, primitive,rebellious spirit that inspired Bill Haley torock till broad daylight, Chuck Berry tocommand Beethoven to roll over, and theRolling Stones to order trespassers off oftheir cloud, is the same spirit that 's behindJett's defiance of those who would criticizeher bad rep. And what is it that fuels rock'n' roll's aggressive rebellion? Sophisti-cated chord changes? Metric complexity?Profound lyricism? Hell no. I t ' s thatBEAT. Frank Zappa called it "lewd andpulsating" in a '60s article for Life maga-zine. Musicians try to define it as beingcharacterized by "a fat snare drum on '2'and '4'." That's probably as close asyou're going to get to putting it into words,but then, the BEAT wasn't meant to in-spire words anyway. It's meant to inspirerockin' and rollin' and singin' and dan-cin'. And that's the kind of beat that LeeCrystal plays so well.

"Basically, I play rock 'n' roll from anR&B standpoint," Crystal explained re-cently, while waiting for a soundcheck tobegin. "I studied with Bernard Purdie forsix months or so, and he influenced me agreat deal in really keeping a backbeat. Hetaught me that it's not necessarily howmany drums you can play in a certainamount of measures that matters, butwhat feel you can put into it. That's beenmy guideline all along—what feels goodand what sounds right for the particularmusic I'm playing. On our records, I justplay simple beats with feel, and I play the

songs. It 's not like you hear the drums sep-arately from the songs; you hear every-thing together. The drums round the songout. It's the same thing that Elvis Presley'sdrummer and Chuck Berry's drummer didin the early days. They played a basic feelthat would go with the song. That's what Ilike to put into our music."

One factor which helps Lee play to thesongs is the fact that the Blackhearts re-cord as a uni t , unl ike some bands who re-cord the drum track by itself and thenoverdub the other instruments one at atime. "We record as if we were doing a livesession," he asserts proudly. "Occasion-ally we'll overdub a guitar or a vocal orsomething. But very often it's completeright off the bat. We've had hit recordswith maybe a mistake on them, but if it hada good feel, then a l i t t le flub didn't affect itthat much. I think that a lot of the studiostuff that comes out is very dry sounding,even though it might be in perfect timewith no mistakes or anything. I know ofcertain things where they just hired indi-vidual musicians at separate times, andthey never even saw each other. Somethingl ike that can come out very dry sounding,with l i t t le actual feeling.

"I don't really want to knock anybodyelse's way of recording. Some people areprobably very successful and achieve greatresults in finding different ways to record. Iknow it's best for the Blackhearts to get inthere and cut it as if we were playing it live,because we're a live band. When we re-cord, all of the tunes have been played onthe road for maybe a few months, so

they're broken in and we have a lot of en-ergy when we go in the studio. I love to getin there and do a track in two or threetakes. You can capture a real spontaneousenergy when you play as a band, and youusually pick the first take anyway becauseit has the best feel."

Is it safe to say, then, that we won't behearing any drum computers on Joan Jettalbums? "Yeah. If you listen to Elvis Pres-ley, or Chuck Berry, or Jerry Lee Lewis, orthe Stones, or any of the classic rock 'n'roll people, and try to imagine a drum ma-chine on any of those tunes, I mean, itwould sound like an arcade game! It wouldbe sacrilegious; it just wouldn't be right. Alot of groups use synthesized drums or pro-grammed drums in addition to live drums,and that can give a nice effect if it's usedright. But in general, it's hard to get thatfeel out of a machine. I think a drummer isthe answer, no matter what.

"Technology will always try to improvesomething, and you do notice differencesand things can be easier. With better moni-tors, you can hear yourself better and thatmight help you play better. You can puttinsel on everything around you, but it stillcomes down to basic feel. You can play ontrash cans as long as you put feel into it,and you play the tune with the right dy-namics and everything else. I think youcould stil l achieve a good deal of excite-ment."

Listening to Lee at the soundcheck, Iwas glad that he was not, in fact, playingon trash cans, because his drums soundedgreat behind the rest of the group. Thesnare drum sounded especially good—a lotof snare sound—and I asked Lee about it."I've listened to Al Jackson a lot, and I'vetried to get his snare drum sound. I've gotan 8" deep snare drum with a Duralinehead on it, and that gives me a really big,crisp, cracking tone. I've really worked ontuning that drum to get it that certain way.When you gig as much as we do, you get arounded viewpoint on how your drumssound. You really get to know each drumindividually. That snare drum is amazing.It's a wood shell with chrome on the out-side. Having wood on the inside reallymakes a difference in the tone. Also, that

Pho

to b

y Ron

Akiya

ma

Crystaldrum can travel a thousand miles in a truckand it will sound the same. I t ' s a prettyconsistent drum. Actually, all of the drumsare consistent. It's all Ludwig stuff. I use a24 x 16 bass drum because I find that I geta more rounded sound. With a 14" bassdrum, you lose a l i t t le sustain."

For tom-toms, Lee uses one rack tom—a 14" power tom—and two floor toms—a16" and an 18". Those floor toms really geta workout. Listening to Crystal riding on afloor tom in such songs as "A HundredFeet Away," "You're Too Possessive,""The French Song" or "Bits and Pieces,"one wonders why drummers got awayfrom doing that—it was common enoughin the '60s. But anyway, Lee Crystal does itqui te a bit , and it really reinforces thepower and dr ive of the Blackhearts 'sound. "I like riding on the floor tom,"Crystal said enthusiastically. "A lot ofJoan's guitar playing is that real crunchyrock 'n' roll guitar sound, and the bass isreal simple and straight, so riding on thefloor tom creates an amazing bottomsound, sort of l ike a rumble. I love it on arecord, live, and everywhere else! I feelthat for our style and music, being bottomheavy sometimes is the only way to go.

"Another thing I like to do is keep thehi-hat slightly open so I get a 'slosh' soundinstead of a real tight sound. I th ink Istarted doing that in the early days when Iwas a boy listening to Ginger Baker withCream. He used to really keep that hi-hatsloshing. You can overdo it, though. Youhave to reach a happy medium because youdo need to have those 8th notes. You haveyour kick and your snare for the mainbeats, but you need those 8th notes to re-ally move it along. I use big hi-hat cym-bals—15" Zildjians—because I like themand they're loud. When they're open, I geta good sound. Right now my cymbal col-lection is a combination of Zildjian andPaiste. I have a 22" Zildjian ride, an 18"Zildjian crash, an 18" Paiste Rude cym-bal—which is pretty good for sustain—and another 18" Paiste crash cymbal. It 's apretty basic cymbal setup, but it gives medifferent crash sounds for differentsongs."

Crystal came by his Ludwig endorse-

ment hones t ly—he has always usedLudwigs. His first drumset was pieced to-gether from various old Ludwig drums.The first couple were white pearl, so as headded more drums, Lee painted themwhite in an attempt to have a matched set.But then he "accidentally" got a new set ofLudwigs. "I was riding a bicycle and I hadsome kid on the handlebars," he remem-bers. "I couldn't see this car that was com-ing; the kid jumped off and I ran into thecar. I hurt my leg—not seriously—butthere was a minor lawsuit and the judgeawarded me about three hundred dollars. Iwas so happy. I went to the Sam Ash storein Brooklyn, and they'd just had a Car-mine Appice clinic. They had a set that hadbeen used for the clinic, and they were sell-ing it at a discount because it was slightlyused. Those drums served me fai thful ly . Iactually used that set all the way upthrough 'I Love Rock 'n' Roll. ' Thatdrumset stayed with me from my youngerdays and I made a Number One recordwith them. Maybe that says somethingabout sticking to your guns and keepingyour determination unt i l you achieve thesuccess you're looking for."

In Lee Crystal's case, determination hasbeen carrying him towards success since hewas in the seventh grade. He actuallystarted out on violin, but quickly switchedto drums. Lee learned basic reading andtechnique from a classical percussionistwho played with the New York City CenterBallet, and then the lessons with BernardPurdie followed. On his own, Lee was lis-tening to groups like the Beatles and theRolling Stones, and playing drums alongwith the radio and records. "To me, thatwas a good way to practice," he recalls."I'd put headphones on so that I couldhear the records, and play along withthem. Playing along with records that werealready made taught me quite a bit abouthow to make records."

As Lee was learning to play in the early'70s, rock was beginning to be influencedmore and more by jazz (and vice versa),and "fusion" was attracting a lot of youngmusicians. Not Lee Crystal, though."First, I'm a rock 'n' roll drummer," heasserts, "and I would say second I can play

other styles. Back during my teens, just af-ter I started playing, a lot of my friendswere going off and playing fusion music orsomething. That's when Chick Corea andthe Mahavishnu Orchestra were comingout, and they were all doing that stuff. Icould listen to it now and then. I appreci-ated it for what it was, but I knew it wasn'tfor me. I definitely stuck to my guns anddid not go off in that direction. I didn'teven toy with it. I liked the straight stuff; Iliked to play regular rock 'n' roll."

Lee did go on to spend a year in collegemajoring in jazz history, but it wasn't outof any particular desire to study jazz. "Icouldn ' t major in rock history," helaughed. "I just wanted to pursue music,and the only majors they offered were The-ory and Jazz History. I learned a lot. Welistened to records all day and I loved it—especially the early stuff. To me, listeningto early Dizzy Gillespie is l ike listening toChuck Berry—it's the wildness of i t . I'mnot too fond of a lot of the synthesized jazzthese days. Give me a bunch of these oldjazz guys having a good time. I dig that alot."

Lee left school after a year and startedworking the "downtown" New York clubcircuit . "I had a band called The Boy-friends that played the CBGB's/Max's cir-cuit. We used to open for bands l ike theRamones. Then we started headlining the

by Rick Mattingly Photo by Ron Akiyama

clubs. We did a lot of traveling for a localband. We played in L.A. at the Whiskey,and we played in Toronto. We had a lit t le45 out on an independent label. Weworked pretty hard for a few years.

"But then it was time for me to go on toother things. I started working with Syl-vain Sylvain from the New York Dolls. Wedid an album on RCA that was real NewYork oriented. The Dolls have influencedme a lot in the wildness and raggedness ofrock 'n' roll. They had a real flair; to me,that's the true New York sound."

Crystal also worked wi th ex-DollJohnny Thunders, both live and in the stu-dio. "If anything, Johnny Thunders willcertainly teach you to be a professionaldrummer," Lee said. "He never lets any-body know what song is coming up next.He plays the first couple of chords and youjust have to feel when to come in. He kindof keeps you on your toes.

"It was good experience for me to playthe New York clubs and learn from peoplelike the New York Dolls at the time thatBlondie and a lot of the new music wascoming up. I learned from it and I grewwith it. The New York sound was yourgrowling guitars, and your bass and drumshad to be simple but tight. And thenyou've got your guitar solos that don't nec-essarily have to sound good—just guitarsolos for the guitar soloist's sake. Thun-ders would always play these notes thatdidn't sound quite in key, but then hewould bend them up a li t t le bit and theysounded right. And then there are thosegrowling vocals. The New York sound isan aggressive sound. I know that's what weusually try to accommodate in our mu-sic—aggression. The audiences like it andit gives us a feeling that makes us happyabout it."

Lee then joined with Sylvain's guitaristto form a band called the Jaguars. Theydid a few gigs, but then Lee got a call fromJoan Jett's manager, Kenny Laguna, ask-ing him to audition for the Blackhearts.Crystal already knew of the group, andjumped at the chance to become a mem-ber. "I knew that playing with Joan waswhat I really wanted. Joan is a great frontperson in the true rock 'n' roll tradition."

The band emerged as a meeting of Eastand West—Crystal and guitarist RickyByrd from New York, and Jett and bassistGary Ryan from L.A. To Lee, that dual-coast alliance is a bright point of thegroup. "It was a swapping kind of scene,"he explained. "The playing was very simi-lar though; there was not that much ad-jus t ing to be done. There was a real com-patibili ty right from the beginning, andthat's probably why the band functions sosuccessfully. Nobody had to change to bein this group; it was all natural."

The band started touring to supportJoan's album, Bad Reputation, which, al-though only available as an import, wasdoing well on the charts. Despite that suc-

cess, the band was unable to get a U.S. rec-ord deal. After being turned down by vir-tually every record company in America(documented on the group's "Bad Reputa-tion" video), Jett and manager Lagunatook matters into their own hands andstarted their own company—BlackheartRecords. "At the time, it was difficult forus," Crystal recalls. "That video is quiterealistic. Kenny Laguna had made hitsback in the bubblegum days with TommyJames, so you'd think that somebody inthe business would have taken a chancewith him. But we didn't get any breaks un-til after we started Blackheart Records.Then Neal Bogart gave us a chance and putus on a real label here in the States. Nowwe're on a new label—MCA—becauseBoardwalk was changing their policy. Butwhat they did for us while Neil Bogart wasalive really gave us a break."

It's easy now to accuse the record com-panies of being short sighted—not signinga promising group who went on to have hitrecords. For a while, in fact, it seemed as ifthe record companies were completely ob-livious to new groups. But having now seenthe record business from both sides, Crys-tal does not place all of the blame on thecompanies. "It's up to the acts too," hecontends. "If the company is willing tospend X amount of dollars, the bandshould figure out the best possible way touse that money. If they th ink they can justspend that money, and then see what therecord company is going to do, they'rewrong. I know that we've taken a lot ofmoney that the band could have had, andput it back into making the record move. Ith ink it's up to the bands these days to takeit in their own hands and work with therecord companies. Then you've got to getout there and tour, and play the songs. Asfar as I can remember, that's what a rock'n' roll band is supposed to do."

And playing in a real rock 'n' roll band iswhat Lee Crystal has always wanted to do.After nearly three years with Joan Jett andthe Blackhearts, he is still excited about be-ing in the group. "I like to think of us asjust a traditional rock 'n' roll band—maybe one of the few left of its kind.Sometimes the new wavers get confusedwith the hard rockers, and hard rockers getconfused with new wavers. That's some-thing we've been coming across a lot in ourtravels. Generally speaking, the receptionfrom our audiences has been great, al-though sometimes there is some confu-sion.

"You know, music is funny," he contin-ued. "New music can be old music all of asudden. On our new album [called Album]we cover an old Bobby Lewis song, 'Tos-sin' and Turnin'. ' I listened to the originalmaybe once, and Joan listened to it just tolearn the words. We basically put our thingon it. I applied sort of a twist beat to it—the old double on the snare drum. Thenwe've got the 'Everyday People' cut, a

song by Sly. That's where I incorporate mytrue R&B feel; straight '2' and '4' just asfat as I can make it. Then we had the DaveClark 5 song 'Bits and Pieces' on the ILove Rock 'N' Roll album, and 'Crimsonand Clover.'

"I try to put my own ideas into thosesongs, but I also try to give it the originalflair. If it's an R&B tune, I ' l l give it an R&Bflair; if its a'60s tune, I ' l l give it a '60s flair.You learn different styles as you go alongby listening to records, and you develop asense of how you would do it. Our musicgives me a chance to play a few differentstyles; some are this style, some are thatstyle, but they are all basically rock 'n' roll.I don't feel limited in this band. I feel thatI'm able to cover the areas and the stylesthat mean the most to me as a drummer.

"I think we're following in the footstepsof people like Elvis, the Beatles, theStones, and I could name others. We'rekeeping the tradition. When we do oldersongs, we're adding our own flair to it andour own personality—we're not just re-treading what's already been done. Andthen of course we have original songswhich are nothing like, say, Elvis Presleysongs. So I think it's a feeling and a spirit;it's not just a reproduction of their sound.

"I love playing with the Blackhearts andworking with Joan," Lee concluded. "It'san experience where, like I said before, I'mnot limited. From here on in, it's just amatter of keeping up the good work. Aslong as you keep working hard, nobodycan tell you you're wrong. I've had friends

who I worked with off and on who wouldget lazy at the wrong time. They have set-tled for certain situations but I know that ifthey'd had a l i t t le bit more determina-tion—or a little less laziness—they wouldhave gotten a lot further than they did. Sonever say die, because then it's all over.

"It's not an easy game. There's only oneway to do it , and that's by the old 'payingdues.' You'll play with your first band, andyou'll learn a couple of the ropes. Thenyou'll go on to something a little more ad-vanced. Then maybe you join the union,and start doing union dates. Then you doan album with somebody. You start get-ting recommended. It's a long process, butif you've got your sights set straight andyou're committed to what you do, youshould get there. And if somebody givesyou an opportunity where you could learnsomething, you should take advantage ofit. Lord knows I've worked in situationsthat were not profit-making. But fromyour first band on, you have to have thehighest hopes in the world and you reallyhave to put everything into i t . You'll findobstacles piling up in front of you, but de-termination and desire will break throughthat. That might be easy to say, but if youdon't say it, you won't have the determina-tion. If the runner doesn't th ink he canjump over the hurdle, he won't. But if hethinks he can, he might. Like anything,there's an element of chance, but you canfight those odds with enough determina-tion.

Santos continued from page 29

but then get away from it and develop yourfeet.SF: Did you ever practice along with rec-ords?JS: I used to do that a lot with Buddy Richrecords, and I've done that with a lot offunk records just to get the feel happen-ing—a solid "2" and "4." The first time Iworked with a click track was in Florida.We did a thing for Chubby Tavares. I'dworked wi th a metronome but I'd left i t fora while. It didn't take me long to adjust tothe click track, because I was in the studioand it was either do or die! After a while,the click track settled in and I didn' t evenhear i t . I t took me 10 to 15 minutes to workwith the click track and then I had it down.SF: Why is a click track hard to adjust to?JS: Because it seems like it takes your natu-ral feel away. You're worrying about time.You're t rying to make it happen with theclick track, so you start sounding mechani-cal. You've just got to adjust and groove.SF: Gary Chester told me he th inks of theclick track as a good bass player. And MelLewis told me that his secret was playingaround the click track.JS: That 's what I t ry to do—play aroundthe click track. I'd rather go on natural feelbecause my t iming is good. You groovebetter that way. But, the producer is theboss. I 've used click tracks on all the j in-gles I've done.SF: I've heard that John Robinson alwaysuses a click track.JS: Harvey Mason does also. But Harveyhas great t iming anyway. A lot of records Ihear today sound sterile to me. That couldbe because of the click track. I f they're notplaying around the click t rack, they startsound ing mechanica l and the recordssound sterile.SF: Are you teaching?JS: I 've got five or six students. I don'twant any more than that . They're doingvery well. If you have students who don'tdo their lessons, it bugs you.SF: Did you go to college for music?JS: No. My first teacher was Chic Boucherof House of Drums. He's a good teacherand friend. Then I studied wi th KevinGoodman at Berklee, and then privatelywith Alan Dawson. The five years I studiedin his basement were just like going to col-lege!SF: How does your approach change frombacking five singers in Tavares to backing asolo vocalist l ike Armstead Christ ian?JS: Armstead is a musician. He graduatedfrom Berklee.SF: The Tavares brothers are going to lovetha t answer!JS: Well, Armstead plays alto sax, flute,piano and drums. The five Tavares broth-ers are great singers but the schooling isn ' tthere. They sing. Armstead is demandingmusically. He writes all his charts and likesto hear the instruments played a certain

way. That's what you have to give him. Ittakes a different type of player coming off aTavares gig, grooving, and then going anddoing Armstead's gig and grooving, yetplaying. You have to play.SF: Do you have more of a free reign?JS: Definitely. Freedom of expression,man. Just go for it. Armstead has somegroove tunes and that 's what I have toplay— "2" and "4." Then again, he's gotLatin things and jazz things where you justplay. You do everything on his gig.

I 've been in the business a long time.Some people are blessed to make it earlyand some people just have to wait theirt u rn . I'm 29. There are a lot of people outthere making beaucoup money, but every-thing that they wanted to have happen,happened at an early age.SF: When did you realize that you were go-ing to play drums for a living?JS: I started at age 12. I was into music; Iwanted to be a drummer. But then again, Iwas into martial arts—Tae Kwan Do. I re-ally loved them both. My father suggestedthat I pick one, put my all into it, and setmy sights on something to go for. I chosemusic. The mart ial arts is still there, butmusic is my first priority. Whenever I havea chance to work out, I still do. I was heav-i ly into Tae Kwan Do at one time.SF: What's the philosophical differencebetween Tae Kwan Do and Karate?JS: Tae Kwan Do is mostly feet. I liked us-ing my feet.SF: Does martial arts help your drum-ming?JS: Definitely. Stamina-wise, you don't gettired. It helps you keep in shape. I was intoworking out a lot and I haven't done thatin the last six months. I t ' s my music andmy son now. But every chance I get, I wor kout. I'm in shape. In the summertime, I'mheavy into basketball. I do my exercise inthe morning. I do some stretching. I ' l l gothrough some kicking exercises, and somehand techniques. Then in the afternoon, ifI'm not gigging and my afternoons arefree, I play ball all afternoon to keep thatwind up. I t takes a certain amount of stam-ina to play concerts. It 's pretty hard to beup there bashing. You've got to be inshape.SF: You have a six-month-old son now.JS: Yeah. He's the greatest thing that'shappened in my life.SF: How do you balance that wi th tour-ing?JS: I t ' s hard. But I wanted a boy so bad.When the nurse came in and said, "Mr.Santos, i t ' s a baby boy," I started crying.I t just seems l ike now I can get myself onanother level. I was really pushing to makei t . But now I'm going to push doubly hardfor my son. I 'm going to do everything thatI've set out to do.

I f I don't do it for myself, then I ' l l do itfor my boy. Having a l i t t l e boy is such a

joy. It 's a type of high you can't explain.It 's like you're on top of the world. It's agreat feeling. It would be rough for guyswho are on the road for eight months at aclip. I'm nowhere near that . Most of thegigs I'm doing with Tavares now are week-end things. I want to be able to balance outmy life with studio gigs, then get awayfrom the studio to be on the road and thencome back to be with my family.SF: Do you think the band business ischanging from the days of the '30s whenmusicians were always on the road?JS: Yeah, now you've got all the videos. Ith ink the videos are hurt ing the business.People don't want to come out and hearbands live. Five years ago, you could go toa concert for five dollars. To go to a con-cert now it costs $15 or $20. To bring yourlady with you, you're talking $40 just toget in the door. People haven't got thattype of money anymore. The economy'sbad. They're not going to spend thatmoney. They'd rather sit home and watcha video or listen to an album.SF: Does Tavares have a mixed audience?JS: Yeah.SF: A black audience is a whole differentballgame, isn't it?JS: It's rough, man, because a black audi-ence will let you know if you ain't playing!They'll say it in a minute. But Tavares is acrossover band.SF: Does Tavares play a different show foran all black audience?JS: We change it a little bit. We keep moreof the rhythm & blues tunes in there thatthey used to do before, like "Check ItOut," "Remember What I Told You ToForget," She's Gone," and "It OnlyTakes A Minute"—tunes like that. Whenwe're playing for a white audience, we play"MoreThan A Woman," and "Heaven."They're the ones that went gold.SF: The marketing for black and white au-diences is interesting. I remember when Iinterviewed Larry Blackmon from Cameo.I'd never heard of Cameo. Their publicistsaid they 'd had five gold records. Ithought, "Where the heck have I been?"JS: Tavares can cross over. "Penny ForYour Thoughts" appeals to both masses.They both love the song. That's where youmake your strong money, when you crossover. If you just stay on the soul charts,you don't make the money. You've got tocross over, like Lionel Ritchie, The Com-modores, Earth, Wind & Fire, Diana Rossand Michael Jackson.SF: Do you do clinics?JS: I've done a few. My first one was inSouth America. In Argentina you learndifferent ways that musicians approachmusic. Hopefully, I ' l l be doing clinics forYamaha.

I 'm using Yamaha's Recording CustomSeries drums. They're great. The projec-tion is awesome and I use them for all my

recording dates. I use Remo clear heads onall the tom-toms, a clear Diplomat on the 7x 14 snare and a CS head on the bassdrum. The bass drum is 14 x 22. The smalltomsare9 x 13, 10 x Hand 16 x 16. I'malso experimenting with Remo's pitchpedal. You can come up with some inter-esting rhythms for solos.

My cymbals are a combination of A.and K. Zildjians—a 20" K. ride, 15" A. pa-per-thin crash, 17" thin crash, 18" mediumcrash, 20" medium-low China Boy, and14" A. or K. hi-hat cymbals. I use Vic Firthsticks. Jim Coffin, Lennie DiMuzio, VicFirth and Lloyd McCausland have reallygiven me a lot of support. I'm thankful forthat.

I work on time and feel with my studentsbut also a lot of head stuff. I teach them theimportance of having your attitude in theright place when you're dealing with peo-ple. The main thing is the attitude. I tellthem of experiences that I went through, toprepare them. I tell them that if they're go-ing to go into this business, there are cer-tain things that they're going to have toface.SF: I sense that many of the black jazz mu-sicians feel that they've been, and are be-ing, neglected by the younger black gener-ations.JS: My students are all listening to rock:Rush, Journey, and Jethro Tull. I 'm tryingto get them into swing. I 'm going to teachmy students rock, jazz, and Latin, so theycan be versatile. I like to have them listento Max Roach, Tony Williams and all theother drummers who are really happening.That's what drumming is all about. Youcan go out there and play all the rock licks,but when it comes down to playing bebop,it takes a certain technique and talent to beable to play it. I want my students to bejazz players as well as rock players or funkplayers. If you can cover all the aspects ofmusic, you will become more valuable as amusician and you will get more gigs thatway.SF: I was amazed to discover that all of theearly pioneers of rock drumming were jazzdrummers first.JS: That's right. When you saw the drum-mers with Elvis you said to yourself, "Iwonder if that guy could cover any otherkind of music." And they all could. Theyjust went with the money-maker.SF: It seems strange that so many youngdrummers are becoming specialized.JS: Exactly.SF: How do you motivate your students towant to learn different things?JS: It 's hard. I've got this one studentwho's 15 years old. He has the potential tobe unbelievable. He can play. He neverdoes his lessons! One day I told his motherthat he was either going to do his lessons,or I just couldn't keep going there and tak-ing her money. I'd give this student all of

these things and he'd say, "I've been lis-tening to this Billy Cobham record. Canyou show me how to do that?"

I've got three or four students who areinto what I'm showing them. There areothers who just want to learn Neil Peartlicks and whatever. That's not where it'sat.SF: What motivated you to become such aversatile player?JS: I guess because my very first influencewas Buddy Rich. Then my greatest influ-ence was Alan Dawson. That did it for meright there.SF: When did you first hear Alan Dawson?JS: It was at Gretsch Drum Night at Len-ny's On The Turnpike in West Peabody,Massachusetts. I said, "That is what it's allabout. That's what I want to do. I want toplay everything." I was into jazz first, andBuddy Rich was my idol at that time. Iguess if your influence is rock, for a lot ofyears it's hard to get into other stuff. Butyou have to learn. It's a must.SF: Did the Beatles influence you?JS: Oh yeah. They were my favorite rockband. They had it all. I liked the Rascalstoo. They were smoking. But they weren'tjust rocking out, man; they were playing.They were good players.

There are about five or six drummersthat I really listen to. But I never coplicks—I listen to conception to hear howthey approach the music, and then I moldit to my own style. Therefore, I sound likeeverybody, but still it 's Jackie Santos play-ing. If someone wanted Steve Gadd on adate, they'd hire Steve Gadd, not a clone. Itell my students, "Listen to everybody andmold it into your own style. Never copylicks because you don't learn to improvisethat way. You're just copying somebodyelse's ideas. It's not you coming out on theinstrument." I like to see my studentsshow their own style. Don't cop licks. Beyou!

It's hard for young kids today becausethey'll put on their Neil Peart or BillyCobham records and say, "I want to learnthat roll and this lick." All of my studentshave big drumsets. That 15-year-old I wastelling you about has double bass drumsnow, and one time I heard him playing16th-note single-stroke rolls on them. I putTed Reed's Syncopation book in front ofhim and said, "Go through the whole

book using just your feet."SF: What are you planning to do whenyou're 50 or 60?JS: I'd like to get more into teaching some-day and help out young kids who have thetalent. I won't exploit it, but I will bring itout in the open. I definitely want to workwith kids that way. It's the whole thingabout karma, man. Extend your arm tosomebody and you'll be doubly rewardedlater. I had some well-known drummerssay to me a few years ago, "Jackie, we'rereally going to help you out." They neverdid. You've got to go out and do it your-self. Opportunity will come to you whenyou go looking for it. A lot of people outthere now are not going to help you. Ifound that out quick. I've helped out a lotof people, and maybe now God is startingto pay me back. Things are starting to hap-pen. I've got my son, Joaquim RobertSantos. I think God's going to be good tome.SF: Did you have a religious upbringing?JS: My whole family is pretty religious.When I'm downtown, I stop in the chapelthree days a week. I drop money in the boxand I pray for success. Every time I pass achapel, man, I've got to stop and go in.You've got to have faith to make it. I feelGod's going to be right there with you, andyou've got to show God that you want it.I've worked hard. And, God willing, formy son, I'm going to do it. I told mymother when I first started, "Ma, I maynot be rich but I'm going to make it in thebusiness. And I promise that you'll get ahome."

My father and mother were always be-hind me 100%. I ' l l never forget that timemy father came to see me. I haven't seenhim in years. He left one day. And he'd beproud of me right now. I don't knowwhere he is. Not a clue. And I'm trying tofind him. One time my father came to seeme playing in a club. I played a drum soloand got a standing ovation. My fatherjumped onto the stage, grabbed me andkissed me. The love was always there. SoI've got to do it for my mother and my son.I' ve got a lot of responsibilities, but I wantto do it. Perseverance continues to be a

beauty that comes from anything youwork hard at. I have never felt that any-body has a responsibility to play the way Ior anyone else does.

Rudimental drumming as it exists todayis a completely different animal than it wasin 1936. Also if Louie Bellson's analogy ofrudiments doesn't please Sam, he shouldwrite his own, or better yet, forget it alto-gether. Louie obviously believes in what hedoes. That's clearly apparent by his virtu-osity on the instrument. It has been my ex-perience that musical players play music.If that music should include rudimentaltechnique, we would hope it would be forthe sake of the music or it would really de-tract from the music.

Greg DilleySan Jose, CA

MARK HERNDONI would like to express my thanks for thegreat Mark Herndon article. This is justwhat I've been waiting for, for a long time.Mark has shown the real meaning of tal-ent, without having to do flashy fills or in-tricate solos. He has let the music flowfrom his heart, which is the only place realmusic can come from.

Mike EllisHerndon, VA

A PHILLIP WILSON HIGHPhil l ip Wilson can pull off being concep-tual and elastic at the same time. I've beena fan of his since the Butterfield days and itsure was a high to read about the stellarPhillip Wilson.

Daniel FrankelLos Angeles

TURNING JAPANESE?Have you noticed how many Japaneseproducts are appearing on the marketthese days? Yamaha. Pearl. Tama. I seemany top drummers using these products.What ever happened to Ludwig, Gretschand Rogers? Many drum companies todayare more concerned with how sturdy theirdrums are instead of focusing on detailsl ike rigid tolerance. A lot of today's drumsdeviate from perfection, which makes itvery diff icul t to tune the heads properly. Istated in an earlier letter that the mainproblem is the lack of knowledge in tuningheads properly. This is incorrect. The mainproblem is with the drums themselves. Mypersonal concept of the ideal drum is onewith a thinner shell and a reinforcing ringat the top and bottom. The shell is per-fectly round and true on both ends. I be-lieve that older Ludwig and Rogers shellsfit this description and were ideal. And therim must be manufactured with the samerigid tolerance as the shells: perfectlyround and perfectly flat. Maybe these topdrummers are finding this perfection inJapanese products. If it can't be foundthere, then where do we turn?

most important factor in attaining success.

Charlie LynchGreenwood, DE

Creativity vs. Business

There exists an ongoing split between crea-t i v i ty and business in the life of a perform-ing musician. The number of musicianswho've become outstanding performers,only to let success slip away because of alack of business knowledge, is enormous.So, what is this mysterious thing called"business"? How does it work and why isit necessary to understand?

In order to be in business, we need aproduct, a service, an idea, or some combi-nation of the three. Without these threefactors, we don't have a business.

Usually a performing musician will startwith an idea. The idea might be a new con-cept for playing an instrument or a newway of writing songs. When you have mas-tered your idea to the extent that you feelother people will appreciate it and want it,you have a product.

The next step, if you want to earn a liv-ing, is to sell the product. A solo performercan start out alone, but if you need a bandto complete your idea, then you need otherpeople. By necessity, you become a sales-person. You must first sell prospectiveband members on your idea. You needpeople who believe as strongly in your ideaas you do. But if you don't have enoughconfidence in your idea at this stage, thenyou're never going to be able to sell theidea to prospective band members, and itwil l probably die at this point.

Each band member presents a new chal-lenge. The fewer band members, the fewerpersonalities to be dealt with. I've been inbands where the leaders hired completelydisinterested trumpet players just becausethey wanted trumpets. When you have amajority of dedicated musicians and onewho couldn't care less if the band succeedsor fails, you end up wi th the "one bad ap-ple spoils the whole bunch" syndrome.

Once the band is ready for work, thenext step is to find work. Most bandsstart out playing local dances, schools,YMCAs, or they may get on the local-barcircuit . Some bands travel the "show-band" circuit, and some of the less com-mercial outf i ts play libraries, schools, artfairs and places like that. At this point,when the band's ready for work, they areready to provide a service with their prod-uct.

I want to sidestep for a moment. In or-der for any business to be successful, itneeds to make a profit. One gets into busi-ness to make money, not lose it. One trapthat I've seen scores of bands fall into atthis level is the "star trap."

Back in the late '70s, we were one of sev-eral bands performing on the bar circuit inour local area. We managed ourselves, wetransported our own equipment, and weset it up and broke it down ourselves. Wecontrolled our own soundboard. Ourequipment was modest, but it was perfectfor the size clubs we played.

There were two bands that used to playthe same bars we did. They had anywherefrom five to seven pieces. Both had mana-gers, light people, sound people, roadiesand a tremendous investment in equip-ment and trucks to haul the equipment.We always used our cars to haul equip-ment. These bands played small bars, butthey used gigantic P.A. systems, elaboratel ighting systems, and close miked all theinstruments. They commanded at leasttwice the amount of money that we did,but because they had so much overhead,the band members were only tak ing homeas much money as we were.

The lesson to be learned from the "startrap" is this: Keep costs down. There'snothing wrong with extras, but why botherwith them if you don't need them? Thosemusicians would've been bringing hometwo or three times the amount of money wewere making had they been less concernedwith appearing to be famous rock stars.And more money paid to the band mem-bers—those in the creative area of yourbusiness—will create the incentive forthem to stick with you and perform at100% of their capacity.

Now let's get back to the service you'rerendering. We've all heard horror storiesabout rip-off club owners and managers,so let's analyze the situation. A musicianwith a band has a saleable product. Themusician is interested in finding an oppor-t un i t y to sell a product. In this case, theclub represents the opportunity.

A bar owner, just l ike the musician, is inbusiness to make money. The bar ownermakes money by selling drinks. Drinks aresold by attracting people into the club, and

creating an atmosphere where the peoplewill want to stay and drink. The questionsan owner asks when considering whichband to hire are: Will this band attract pay-ing customers? Wi l l t h i s band createenough interest for the customers to stay?After I pay this band, will I make a profitfrom the night's earnings?

Both the musician and the club ownerwant to make as much money as they can.That's why they're both in business. Andthe inherent sales ability between the two isgoing to determine who makes how much.So the two sides negotiate a price.

Musicians must set their own standards,but it's equally important to be flexible. Anew band on the scene may feel thatthey're worth quite a bit of money. But, ifthey've never had any exposure, they'llprobably have to make some concessionsin order to prove that they're worth whatthey think they are.

When you're good enough to have a fol-lowing of paying customers, you won'thave trouble finding work, and you won'thave too much trouble being paid whatyou're worth. But don't expect to work ifyou're alienating customers by being tooloud or by not catering to them. If you're arock band, don't be surprised if you don'tgo over with a country/western crowd in acountry/western bar. I 've seen that hap-pen many times. A product is only worthsomething if people want it or need it.That's how business works. Product/Ser-vice/Idea + Opportunity = Success orFailure.

In order to have the chance to succeed,we must have the option to fail. All truesuccess is based on failures. We can decideto learn and grow from our mistakes, or wecan decide to throw in the towel. The priceof success is different for everybody. Thequestion is: Are you will ing to do whateverit takes? A lot of players are concernedwith security. They'd like to see the riskfactors of building a successful band takenout. But where there's total security, free-dom and opportunity do not exist.

It 's now more important than ever forperforming musicians to bridge the chasmbetween creativity and business. Remem-ber the formula. Study it, memorize it andpractice it.

by Scott K. Fish

Q. I have a new Ludwig drumset with a 6 1/2 x 14 snare, fourpower toms sized 11 x 12, 12 x 13, 13 x 14 and 14 x 15, a 16 x18 floor tom and a 16 x 26 bass drum. I'm looking for an originalsound somewhere in between the punch of a concert tom and thefullness of double-headed toms. My idea is to keep the Ludwigclear Silver Dot heads on the bottom of the drums and cut a 2"-2 1/2" hole in the center of the bottom heads. If needed, I'd put aDeadringer about the size of the hole around the cut edge of thehole. Then I'd use Duraline heads on the batter side of the drums.What do you think?

D.V.Gerrardstown, W. VA

A. An "original sound" can be talked about all day, but you'renever really going to know until you try it. The Duraline heads areas good as any on the market. For specifics on the heads you canwrite to Duraline, 11300 Rush St., S. El Monte, CA 91733. Whynot experiment with one drum first? If it sounds good, then youcan rework the rest of your drums.

Q. I have a problem getting my drumkit to sound the way I want. Ihave top heads on my toms but I don't have bottom heads. Willadding bottom heads really change the sound?

M.A.Miami, FL

A. Yes. Single-headed tom-toms have less sustain and more pro-jection than double-headed drums. With double-headed toms, youshould tune the top head for sound and for optimum response. Thebottom head can then be tuned tightly or loosely, depending on thesound you want. This will give you a rounder tone and a fuller,more resonant tom-tom sound. Two other factors in determininghow tom-toms will sound are the type of heads you use and theamount of muffling you use.

Q. Recently I noticed several small cracks on the inside of my bassdrum shell. I believe they are from holes I drilled for my new spursand mount. I recently heard that I could put fiberglass inside theshell to stop the cracks from getting bigger without changing thegreat sound I have now. I hope you can tell me if this is true or not.If not, what can I do to stop the cracks?

J.M..N. Weymouth, MA

A. Fiberglass would probably work, but it will change the sound ofthe drum slightly, assuming you have a wood-shell drum. The fi-berglass will make the drum a little brighter. Fiberglass is also ex-pensive, so you might want to try an easier solution that was sug-gested by Joe MacSweeney of the Eames Drum Company. First ofall, Joe assumes that your drum is made of several plies of wood,and therefore, it is likely that the crack is only in the top layer. Youmerely need to fill the crack and seal it against air and moisture.This can be done with carpenter's glue, such as the one made byElmer's. Afterwards, if your shell is not sealed in some way, youcan coat the inside with polyurethane, which will further protectthe wood from air and moisture.

Q. Does Pro-Mark still make hi-hat stands?M.M.

Placentia, CAA. The hi-hat pedal that was distributed in America under the Pro-Mark name was actually a French pedal, made by the Jacques Ca-pelle company. The pedal also appeared under the name Orange.Pro-Mark is no longer making this pedal available, but Capellepedals are being imported and distributed in America by PaulReal. Paul will be happy to let you know where your nearest dealeris located if you write to him at 745 Oak Knoll Circle, Pasadena,CA 91106. Paul assures us that he has a good inventory of pedalsand parts.

Q. Most of the bottom tension rods on my snare drum becomeloose after a short period of playing. Please tell me what I can do.

J.M.Junction City, KS

A. We know of one case where lugs were slipping because they hadan excess amount of oil on them, so you might check that. Other-wise, we recommend that you try a product, such as Lug Lock orDrumtite, which is designed to prevent lugs from getting loose.Q. I'm in a professional Dixieland band, and many of our jobs areoutside in the sun. The past few jobs have been in 95 degreeweather, and it has been so hot that after we've finished playing,the cymbals have been so hot that I can hardly touch them. Canthis heat make the cymbals crack, or cause any other extensivedamage?

R.F.Elk Grove, IL

A. According to Bill Zildjian at Sabian, the amount of heat neededto damage a cymbal cannot be obtained by simply putting the cym-bal out in the sun. You would need an oven which could generatefive- or six-hundred degrees. Therefore, you don't need to worryabout playing outside.Q. I recently saw a drummer using what appeared to be RotoTomswith shells mounted underneath. Where can I purchase these?

K.D.Midwood, NY

A. There are a couple of different things you might have seen. Pearlused to manufacture a product called a Vari-Pitch drum, whichwas indeed a RotoTom with a fiberglass shell attached to it. Thesedrums have been out of production for a couple of years, but youmight be able to find some used ones. The other possibility is anaccessory made by Remo called a Trimline Reflector. These aremade of clear acrylic, and are available in half-shell and full-shellmodels. They should be available at any store that carries Remoproducts.Q. I see that many manufacturers offer die-cast hoops. Could youdiscuss the advantages of die-cast hoops? Do they stand up to rim-shots?

R.L.Sacramento, CA

A. We spoke to the people at Gretsch, who have been making die-cast hoops for many years, and they explained that the advantageof this type of hoop is that the metal is thicker. A non-die-casthoop is rolled and then brazed, which can only be done on thinnermetal. The thicker die-cast hoop is less likely to go out of round,and because it flexes less, it tends to help the head seat more evenly,thus giving you more consistency in tuning. They will certainlystand up to rimshots, and in fact, the thicker metal will often causeless stick damage, as it will not cut into the stick the way a thinnerrim will.Q. I just bought a Brilliant medium-thin Zildjian cymbal, and no-ticed that the stamp is different than my other Zildjian cymbals.Instead of saying "Genuine Turkish Cymbals," this one says"Constantinople Cymbals," and has a sword and a star at the top.Why is this?

S.H.Linwood, NE

A. We spoke to Rab Zildjian who informed us that the trademarkon the Brilliant series cymbals is one of the family's oldest trade-marks, and dates back to Turkey. Constantinople was the namegiven to Istanbul. You'll also notice that, after the name "Zild-jian, " it reads "& Cie. " That simply stands for "and company. "This trademark is used on the Brilliant series simply to distinguishthem from A. Zildjians, K. Zildjians, and Amirs, each of whichhas its own trademark.

It will be a year this month since PaulWertico joined Pat Metheny. The inevita-ble first question was: Was it difficult com-ing into a group where there had been adrummer for so long with an identifiablesound? "Actually no. I love Danny Gott-lieb's playing; he's a great drummer. Inany band that already has a certain styleestablished—even if I would eventuallywant to play differently—I would learnthat style first to find where the music iscoming from. That's what we did and Ithink it's worked out. Now I have as muchfreedom as I want. There were certaintunes like 'Phase Dance,' 'San Lorenzo,''Are You Going With Me,' or 'Heartland,'where Danny's style is a part of the music.It's almost as if it were written in stone orsomething. I've always played that wayanyway, as far as the ECM style. Danny is

a great cymbal player and I 've learned a lotjust from listening to that, but in the tuneswe've learned since, I've been able to dowhatever I want to do.

"I've learned so much with Pat. Thething about playing with him that is such agroove, is that his music is based on dy-namics within a phrase, so everything youplay, every little phrase, has to have ashape. A lot of modern drumming and stu-dio drumming is like you're playing rigidon purpose, whereas with Pat, everythinghas to breathe. It has to be alive. Rhythmi-cally it has to be precise, but it has to have akind of feeling that it's moving forward.He's incredibly aware of that in his guitarplaying and that's why he sounds so great.He's able to pull out things and have littlethings that you can't really hear, so yourmind picks them up but they're not out

front to see. There's a lot of mystery.Learning from him has been incredible be-cause all of a sudden you can take the sim-plest rhythm and play it in time, play itstiff, and then play it with all these differentshapes. All of a sudden, the same rhythmhas so many different values. He also likeseveryone to play his own kind of shape, sohe might be going up at a certain point andI might drop down against him so thateverybody has his own dynamic shape. Itgives the music this three-dimensionalquality which I think is missing in a lot ofmusic. His music is so unique in that it isstructured and yet not structured. It's re-ally a combination of being a symphonicdrummer, a jazz drummer and a rockdrummer because it has to groove."

A New Bangles album, started last Sep-tember, is due out this month, and finallyDebbi Peterson is off tour after a very hec-tic, although exciting, several months."The new stuff we're doing isn't as '60sanymore. We want to get a new sound to-gether, kind of take the feeling and realsincerity of the '60s and project it in the'80s in a real modern way. We've been ex-perimenting and doing tougher things andnot being so loose, but still not sterile. Wewant to find the happy medium betweenthe two."

It's obvious by watching Debbi, though,that Ringo was a prime influence eventhough she was, as she described, "a lateBeatle bloomer. I liked the way he wouldsit there and play, and it didn't even look

like it was work to him. He was having agreat time doing it. The whole Beatlesthing was great because they just lookedlike they were having a great time. It wasreal sincere music and during the first partof it, they seemed really happy on stage tobe performing it. Ringo wasn't a technicaldrummer, but it was very real."

As for being a woman drummer, Debbisays, "I haven't really found it too diffi-cult. A lot of people say, 'Oh God, awoman drummer. Chicks can't playdrums.' I seem to rise above that. I just goup there and have a good time. People be-lieve that and they don't put any pressureon me about it or anything. I just don'tcome across like, 'Hi, I'm a girl drummer.'I feel like it doesn't matter if I'm a woman

or a guy or a munchkin. I still have a goodtime and I still like playing drums. I don'tthink it matters to anybody else. Sure I'vehad my share of 'Look, a girl band,' kindof thing, but it really hasn't been that bad.I feel that women have it in them just asmuch as guys. If they're talented musi-cally, I don't think the fact that they're fe-male should stop them. I think they shouldkeep on playing. I don't think it shouldmake a difference in the music businesswhether you're a woman or a guy as longas you're playing good music. My goal isjust to make as many people happy withour music as possible and just to keep onplaying in the music business because I likeit so much. I just have such a good timedoing this."

The news from Rod Morgenstein is thatthe Dregs did, in fact, break up. Rod, how-ever, is working with Dregs guitarist SteveMorse in a trio known as the Steve MorseBand. Richie Hayward was on tour withRobert Plant in Europe and Asia. ELOdrummer Bev Bevan was recently on tourwith Black Sabbath temporarily replacingBill Ward, who was unable to tour due toillness. Simon Wright has replaced PhilRudd in AC/DC. The band has been tour-ing. Mark Edwards recently toured Japanwith Steeler and can be heard on their re-cent album, as well as LP's by T.K.O. andTony Smith's Lonestar. Jim Keltner can beheard on Yoko Ono's LP. The album is aselection of her tunes performed by otherartists, and Jim is on songs performed byHarry Nilsson. Keith Jones, drummerfrom Barnstaple Devon Great Britain, ison one track of the latest Hawkind LP,Twice Upon a Time. Ralph Cooper in thestudio with Air Supply. King Crimson al-bum due out this month with Bill Bruford

on drums. Michael Botts' new group hassigned a management and co-productiondeal with Ken Scott. The group finally hasa name—The Yanks. Botts can also beheard on Eddie Money's newest album.Fred Satlerfield has been in the studio withthe Oaks Band, as well as with Dan D. &the Lions, and Jimbeau Hinson. DennyCarmassi was on recent albums with KimCarnes and Al Stewart. Derek Hess hasbeen on the road with the Allen CollinsBand. Joe Chambers has a new groupcalled New York, New York, with GaryBartz, Rufus Reid, Ted Dunbar andJimmy Owens. Paul Motian's new albumon Soul Note, The Story of Maryam, dueout this month. Gerry Brown has beentour ing wi th Lionel Ritchie . WilbyFletcher is McCoy Tyner's drummer thesedays. Mike Shrieve has a solo percussionalbum out on the Swedish label Amigo,called In Suspect Terrain. Mike has alsobeen recording with Roger Hodgson, aswell as an album with Sammy Hagar andNeil Schon.

Bruce Gary has been very busy thesepast several months. During the summer,he was back and forth to Europe touringand recording (Automatic out in the fall)with Jack Bruce. Bruce also did AlKooper's Championship Wrestling, whichwas released during the summer, JohnnyKoontz's album, as well as RobbieKrieger's fall release. He also served asmusical director for a TV show called ThePop 'n' Rocker Show, a rock 'n' roll triviagame show with a concert element to it.The Bruce Gary All-Stars performed themusic live and Bruce also co-wrote theshow's theme song. If that isn't enough,Bruce is also working on a film project asassociate producer to a documentary onJohn Lennon's life.

by Robyn Flans

DICK CULLY NAMEDSLINGERLAND CLINICIAN

Bryan Morhardt, Director ofArtist Relations for Sling-erland/Deagan, recently an-nounced the addition of DickCully to Slingerland's en-dorser/clinician staff. Cully, awell-known drummer and bandleader in the southwesternUnited States, will be starting aseries of school-related clinics."Mr. Cully's excellent reputa-tion as a performer and hisknowledge of the drumset

make him a valuable additionto our clinician staff," statedMorhardt. Dick'splaying expe-rience includes television andstudio work, feature concerts,and club dates. He has studiedwith James Rago, Alan Daw-son, and Ed Shaughnessy. Heattended the Berklee College ofMusic in Boston. As the leaderof a fifteen-piece big band,Cully performs in and aroundthe Florida area extensively.

AMERICAN COLLEGIATETALENT SHOWCASE

From rock to classical, R&B toGospel, country to comedy,drama to dance and variety, theAmerican Collegiate TalentShowcase (ACTS, formerlyknown as the All-AmericanCollegiate Talent Search) offersopportunities to talented col-lege students in every area ofthe performing arts. Participat-ing students become eligible forcash and scholarship prizes,live performances, televisionappearances, showcases, over-seas tours and audi t ions .Among the auditioning compa-nies are: The American TheatreCompany, The EntertainmentConnection, The Gospel MusicAssociation, Hershey Park,Las Cruces Symphony, TheOakland Ballet Company,Plays in Progress (directed byTony Award Winning Play-wright, Mark Medoff), TheSanta Fe Opera and WarnerBrothers Records.

In addition to the annualshowcase offered by Rick New-man's world-famous showcaseclub Catch a Rising Star, thisyear's rock bands will have aspecial opportunity to be se-lected for showcases at The Ritz

in New York and The Palace inLos Angeles. ACTS judges rep-resent the industry 's mostnoted talent agencies, manage-ment companies, record com-panies, trade magazines, pub-l ishing companies, publ icrelations firms and entertain-ment-oriented organizations.For students wishing to enterany field of the performing arts,ACTS offers the most efficientmethod of reaching the profes-sional people in the business.Among the names on the 1984Honorary Advisory Board aresuch notables as Bob Hope,Chuck Mangione, Esther Wil-liams Lamas, Burl Ives, RayAnthony , Ronnie Milsap,Byron Allen, and actress AllySheedy. Entries are being ac-cepted through February 24,1984. The National Finals willtake place on April 7, 1984.Campus organizations and fac-ulty/staff members also havethe oppor tun i ty to obtainscholarship money for their de-partments by becoming in-volved. For more informationcontact: ACTS, Box 3ACT,New Mexico State University,Las Cruces, New Mexico88003, (505) 646-4413.

ALFREDDISTRIBUTES

STUDIO 4Alfred Publishing Co., Inc. hasbecome the sole selling agentand exclusive distributor ofStudio 4 Productions, thehighly respected publisher ofpercussion performance music.In making the announcement,Alfred Executive Vice-Presi-dent, Sandy Feldstein, said,"Studio 4's strong catalogforms a perfect blend with Al-fred's method books and othereducational publications. Bycombining the two, we willhave sufficient quality productsto make a major promotionaleffort in this area worthwhileand feasible." Studio 4 Presi-dent, Joel Leach, will continueto supervise product develop-ment for his line. He adds:"This agreement will nowmake Studio 4 publicationsmore widely available to teach-ers and dealers, and assure fastand efficient service to them."

NEW COMPUTER SYSTEMHELPS MUSICIANS

The Musicians National HotLine Association has installed anew computer system whichwill enable it to process addi-tional information to help mu-sicians find bands and helpbands find musicians and gigs.A musician who wants to join aband provides information byfilling out an application thatlists information such as name,address, phone number, howfar he or she will travel, per-sonal music preference (rock,country , Gospel, top forty,etc.), and what he or she does asa musician (plays drums, playsguitar, sings, etc.). All infor-mation is entered into the Asso-ciation's computer, whichstores and sorts data. Thenwhen a band wants a musician,a computer read-out of the mu-sicians that are available in a

part icular area can be pro-vided.

According to Marvin C. Zit-ting, the Hot Line's ExecutiveDirector, "We have been doingthis same type of thing since wewere first organized. However,with our new computer system,we will be able to do more tohelp musicians now than we didin the past by making more in-formation available." The Mu-sicians National Hot Line As-sociation is a three-year-oldorganization wi th membersthroughout the United Statesand Canada. Musicians whowant more information aboutthe Association's services canwrite to the Musicians NationalHot Line Association, Box7345, Salt Lake City, Utah84107; or phone (801) 268-2000.

DENNARD JOINS LP

Kenwood "Woody" Den-nard—multi-instrumentalist ,singer and world-class drum-mer—has joined LP's endorse-ment program. Woody hasadded LP Timbalitos to hisdrumset to provide a Latin"coloring" he has long sought.His choice was the brass shellversion. Woody is currently thedrummer with Jaco Pastorius,and he has worked with GeorgeBenson, Manhattan Transferand Dizzy Gillespie, amongothers. Kenwood's future plansinclude the publishing of drumteaching material, includingmaterial expounding on hisunique one-drumstick roll,which he labels the "Wood-stroke." A video is also shortlyforthcoming.

JUNIOR-SIZEDPRE-TUNED REMO

DRUMS

A new line of pre-tuned drumsand drumsets sized for young-sters 10 and under has been in-troduced by Remo, Inc.

The Junior Pro line includesthree- and four-piece drumsets,beginner and in termedia tesnare drum kits, and a small-sized marching d r um—fu r -nished with all necessary hard-ware, adjustable stands orcarrying straps, and drum-sticks—ready to play after sim-ple assembly with no tools re-quired.

All the drums feature genu-ine Remo PTS pre-tuned drum-heads and Accousticon wood-fiber shells. The drums are fin-ished in blue, red, yellow orwhite with no charge for avail-able color options.

The Junior Pro line is de-signed to offer youngsters anopportunity to begin playing onaffordable, real drums with ex-cellent sound and performancequalities. Suggested list pricesrange from $26.95 for a 4" x12" beginner model snare drumwith drumsticks, to $199.95 forthe 4-piece drumset, which iscomplete except for cymbal andthrone.

Full details and catalogs areavailable from Remo, Inc.,12804 Raymer Street, NorthHollywood, CA 91605.

NEW PRO-MARKCATALOG A 12-page consumer catalog

and product selector is nowavailable from Pro-Mark. De-signed to equip consumers withinformation needed to select apair of h igh-qua l i ty drum-sticks, the catalog includes anin-depth description of the en-tire drumstick manufacturingprocess, methods of gradingsticks and the playing charac-teristics of various woods. A

four-page foldout contains ac-tual-size photos of the firm's 26drumstick models, along with aselector chart and how-to-orderinformation. Pro-Mark's fullline of beaters, accessories andpromotional items are also il-lustrated. Copies are availablefrom Pro-Mark dealers or di-rectly from Pro-Mark Divisionof Remo, Inc., 10706 Craig-head Drive, Houston, Texas77025.

CHOPS DRUM PADBY SAMSON

Samson Music Products has in-troduced Chops, a professionaldrummer's practice pad featur-ing a carefully selected gumrubber surface. Its a luminumframe produces a crisp, evensound. Al though l igh t inweight, the chops pad stays putbecause of a special rubber cov-ering on the bottom. The retailprice of the chops pad is $18.00.An optional stand wi th mount-ing flange is available at $30.00list . For further information,contact Scott Goodman, Na-t iona l Sales Manager, 124Fulton Avenue, Hempstead,New York 11550.

NEW GON BOPS MODELS

Gon Bops of California has in-troduced a new model of congadrums which features the soundcharacteristics of wood (ma-hogany) and the tough durabil-i ty of Gel Coat Fiberglass exte-rior. Similar in appearance totheir transparent fiberglass nat-ural wood finishes, the new

model features chip resistantGel Coat Fiberglass, which isavailable in all the most popu-lar solid colors, including spar-kle. For more i n fo rma t i on ,contact: Gon Bops of Califor-nia, 2302 E. 38th Street, LosAngeles, California 90058. Fortheir new catalog, please send$1.00 for postage and handling.

HARDYSTAND-OFF II

Hardy Technologies introducesthe Stand-off II adjustabledrum microphone holder. Fea-tures include a two-piece Lexanbody that pivots left or right, athree-inch neoprene foamshock isolator and a 5/8" 27-thread chrome pipe. TheStand-off II fastens to any ten-sion rod and can be installed orremoved by tightening or loos-ening the knurled knob. Stand-off II is available from selecteddealers. Contact: Hardy Tech-nologies Incorporated, P.O.Box 4124, E l k h a r t , I nd i a n a46515.

PRO-MARK WIREBRUSH

The SB-2 "Shake-out" Brushhas been introduced by Pro-Mark. I t is the first wire brushever offered by the d rums t i ckmanufacturer , and comes witha soft, rubber handle for a com-fortable, easy grip wi th goodresponse. The suggested listprice is $6.00/pair.

IMPROVED LUDWIGMODULAR STANDS

These rugged, heavy du ty mod-ular stands incorporate all ofthe features demanded by pro-fessional drummers today. Allhave been designed to acceptLudwig's expanded line of add-ons.

Each of the four basic mod-els in the modular line has anextra wide, double-braced basewith extra large serrated rubberfeet for the r ig idi ty and s tabi l i tynecessary for large powerdrums, cymbals and add-on ac-cessories. New enlarged cast-ings are fitted wi th specially de-signed white nylon inserts forimproved gr ip , yet can bequickly and easily adjusted. Allmetal thumb screws and wingnuts are t r ip le chrome plated.The #3050 drum stand has extralong basket arms to accommo-date the large assortment ofLudwig Coliseum and H- Vsnare drums w i t h die-casthoops. The modular doubletom-tom stand #3055 has clus-ter casting to accommodate twoor three tom-toms or o thermodular add-on accessories.The modular boom cymbalstand #3052 can be adjusted forall varieties of cymbals.

TAMA OMNILOCK AND X-HATTama has unveiled two newpieces of hardware. The first isthe Omnilock tom holder.Based on the same principle asthe Omnisphere holder, thenew holder employs a "onetouch" cam lever mechanism tocontrol the tom setting. In addi-tion, the variable locking sys-tem in the top of the holder en-ables the drummer to vary thewidth of the "V" setting, pro-viding more flexibility in tom-

tom settings.The other piece of hardware

is the X-Hat, a short upper tubeand clutch of a hi-hat that at-taches to any cymbal or tomstand via a modified mu l t i -clamp. Angle and cymbal ten-sion are adjustable, allowingfor a closed, open or part lyopen sound. X-Hat lets drum-mers play double bass patternsand hi-hat rhythms simultane-ously.

MILESTONEHARDWARE

Milestone Percussion an-nounces a new selection ofStrongarm support fitt ings, in-cluding bass drum spurs, floortom legs, and rack tom supportbrackets. These f indings arecombined with Creative Per-cussion bar support systems,and are made of steel, alumi-num, and stainless steel. Forfur ther information, contactMilestone Percussion, 9771Pinewell Cres., Richmond Brit-ish Columbia, Canada V7A2C7.

LP RAINMAKER

The LP Rainmaker is a percus-sion sound-effect device that iswell suited for sensitive music.When inverted, the Rainmakerimitates the sound of fallingrain. The amount of incline de-termines the intensity of sound.This device also doubles as aunique-sounding shaker.

ESOTERICCOWBELLS

LP introduces a new generationof cowbells that captures thenew, brighter, and livelier per-cussion sound. These cowbellswere field tested in New YorkCity Salsa arenas before designf ina l iza t ion. Bells are unf in-ished so as not to alter the muchsought-after sound. The newseries includes the ES-1 Agogo,ES-2 Cha Cha Cowbell, ES-3Bongo (hand) Cowbell, ES-4Timbale Cowbell (heavygauge), and ES-5 TimbaleCowbell (light gauge).

DRUMTITE DRUM LUG LOCKSDrumtite Drum Lug Lockssolve lug loosening problems.A specially designed lockingsystem placed between the lugand the rim keeps the lug inplace and your drum in tune.This is done by the use of inter-acting angled cam washers thatwedge against each other when

vibrated, locking the lug withupward pressure. Unl ike otherlug locks, Drumtite provides in-stant tuning without removal oradjustment of the locking de-vice. For further information,contact: Drumtite, 165 Walnut,Costa Mesa, California 92627(714-631-8438).

MAYEAMICROPHONECABLES ANDSUBSNAKE

New from R.M.I , are micro-phone cables and subsnakes es-pecially suited for the May EADrum Miking System. Eachdrum outfitted with an internalmicrophone is equipped with astandard three-pin audio con-nector. The cables and sub-snakes come with space-savingright angle connectors on oneend and straight connectors onthe other. The subsnakes areoffered in three configurationsto fit the needs of most drum-kits: Six-pair cable, nine-paircable and eleven-pair cable. Allsubsnakes are twenty-five feetlong and are designed to con-nect the drums directly to amixing board or main-stagesnake. Also avai lable aretwenty foot long subsnake ex-tensions for overhead mikingor connection of individualdrums to mixer or main snake.A handy Y-cable is offered forassigning two drums to onechannel. Another special Y-ca-ble is designed to assign onedrum to both a channel on themixer and a supplement effect(such as delay or phase-shift-ing, etc.). For more informa-t ion , contact: R .M . I . , 8312Seaport Drive, Hun t ing tonBeach, California 92646 (714-536-2505).

DRUM WORKSHOP 2000 SERIES PEDALS

To help sat isfy the growing de-mand for high-quality, value-pr iced, bass drum pedals,Drum Workshop is proud to in-troduce its 2000 Series. Nowavai lable are the 2000-CXChain and Sprocket, 2000-NNylon Strap, and 2002 Chain-Drive Double Bass Drum ped-als. The 2000 Series pedals fea-

ture imported parts which aremachined, assembled and in-spected to DW's own specifica-tions at their Southern Califor-nia plant. "With our new line,we can offer drummers out-standing value along with ourexperience and reputation inmaking top-quality bass drumpedals," said DW president,Don Lombardi. Twin-actionsprings, dual adjustable spurs,heavy-duty cast ings and anoversized chain and sprocketare standard components ofboth the 2002 Double and 2000-CX pedals.

REMO IMPROVEDCOVERING FORDRUM SHELLS

The development of an im-proved drum shell covering ma-terial that won't bubble orwrinkle even in extreme heat orcold has been revealed byRemo, Inc. The new proprie-tary Quadura covering, nowfurnished on the firm's pre-tuned drums, is a four-layerplastic laminate which has beentested to withstand 160°F andbelow-freezing temperaturesfor 12 hours without deformingor delaminating, far exceedingthe capability of conventionalcovering materials. Improvedresistance to scratching, abra-sion and impact is provided bya hard-gloss protective coating.The new material was devel-oped by Remo engineers "outof desperation," according topresident Remo Belli, after fail-ure to find existing coverings tomeet the company's criteria.

"Our first PTS drums werecovered in a plastic laminatewhich proved to be too thin andsubject to w r i nk l i n g in hotweather," Belli stated. "We'vereplaced every one of thoseearly drums we could find withnew Quadura-covered drums."Subjecting drums to extremeheat or cold, as when stored incar t r unks , has long been acause of cover wrinkling on alltypes of drums, according toBelli. "We believe this new ma-terial, now being manufacturedin-house, has ended that prob-lem for us once and for all," hestated. All PTS drumsets cur-rently being manufactured byRemo incorporate the new cov-ering material.

ADVERTISERS INDEXA&A Drum Center 82Aquarian Accessories 42,60Armen Percussion 92Avanti Cymbals 49Bomber Beater 48Camber Cymbals 81Canasonic Drum Heads 30Capelle High Hats 105Casino Percussion Products 46Corder Drum Co 62Cosmic Percussion 63Countrymen Associates 44Creative Drum Shop 65D & F Products 83D.C. Publications 65Dean Markley Stix 103Delta Lab Research 101Dial-A-Drum 52Discount Music and Drum World 66Drum Torque 71Drum Workshop 105Drummers World 67Drums Ltd 60Drums Unlimited 62Duraline 93Freeport Music 90Gretsch Drums Inside Back CoverHardy Technologies 73Imperial Creations 68J.C.'s Drum Charts 68L.T. Lug Lock 84Latin Percussion 61Long Island Drum Center 82Ludwig Industries Inside Front CoverManny's Music Store 31Maxwin Drums 77MD Back Issues 72MD Library 95MD T-Shirt 40

Mechanical Music 89Milestone Percussion 88Modern Drum Shop 85Musicians Institute 33NJ Percussion Center 41Paiste Cymbals 7Pastore Music 68Pearl International 3,53,107Percussion Center 90Percussion World 92Pied Piper 88Precision Drum Co 80Promark 39Quiet Tone 75Regal Tip 85Remo 43Resonant Drum Sticks 52Rick Latham Advanced Funk Studies 84Rogers Drums 5Rolls Music Center 89Rug Caddy/Beato Musicial Products 45,64S & M Mail Order Sales 97Sabian Cymbals 46,64,69Sam Ash Music Stores 83Samson 66

"Set-The-Pace" Pedal Practice Pads 80Simmons Drums 47Sonor 51,99Sound Concepts 91Staccato Drum Co 90Stanley Spector School of Drumming 76Tama Drums 54/55The Drum Shop-Houston 90Valley Drum Shop 89XL Specialty Percussion Products 59Vic Firth Sticks 35,74Yamaha Drums 37Zildjian Cymbals Outside Back Cover

Documents

Where there's a "Papa," there must be some children, an d for Jo Jones those "children" are all of the drummers who have played jazz during the last half-century . Sinc e his days