Listening and Studio Happenings
Plus Fascinating Drumming On Bandcamp
Last week, composer and trombonist Jacob Garchik reassembled Ye Olde, his quintet consisting of himself, me, and three of the leading guitarists— leading musicians— in NYC: Brandon Seabrook, Jonathan Goldberger, and Mary Halvorson. Our job was to rehearse and record a new album, a sequel to our first release from 2015.
For one song, Jacob created a “Double Ye Olde”, with three additional guitarists, Ava Mendoza, Sean Moran, and Miles Okazaki, and a second drummer, Josh Dion. We got together and went for it, playing the piece live in the studio— 6 guitars, 2 drummers, and 1 trombone.
Wild! A thrill to be a part of this, and extra-special to record with Josh— he and I have been playing double drums since we were 18 years old; there’s some history on that track, some encoded messages embedded in Jacob’s music.
Of course, the whole session was a complete joy and honor, a satisfying challenge, and a privilege to be a part of. But that intense three days of immersion in new, challenging music with four (and for a few hours, eight!) highly developed, totally individual players, coming in the midst of a very busy period of tours, gigs, and other recordings with many different players, made clear to me a very simple idea about what drummers actually do: listen and play.
With Garchik’s Ye Olde, I initially thought I would be mostly rocking out with a stellar band on high-level compositions. By ‘rocking out’, I mean, basically, playing with abandon: putting in over-the-top fills and cymbal crashes, dramatically highlighting contrast and transitions in the music, maybe even playing direct quotes from classic rock drummers. When Jacob talked about the music with me, these were his references, asking me about Moon and Bonham and Billy Cobham and multi-tom set ups, etc, so I was primed to go in that direction.
But in the rehearsals, I realized that that wasn’t the highest road to travel, wouldn’t necessarily bring Jacob’s music across the finish line. What was needed was much less thinking, a much simpler approach. If I knew the songs, I wouldn’t have to try to be in the character of Ye Olde, wouldn’t need to play like the “Ye Olde drummer”; it would happen naturally, because Jacob’s compositions, playing, and conception of the project were clear. If I knew the songs, I would just listen and play, and the music would probably be fine.
With that in mind, for preparation, in addition to learning the tunes, I checked in with a few recordings:
Michael Mantler: Movies (Watt, 1978), featuring Tony Williams on drums. Williams famously and whole-heartedly embraced rock music throughout the Seventies; examined more closely, Tony seems to have taken rock music as simply another influence, another tool in his tool kit. Throughout Movies, instead of showcasing his audacious, virtuosic version of rock drumming, Williams uses rock drumming to play Mantler’s challenging, wide-ranging music. While there are brief solos from Mantler and guitarist Larry Coryell, Williams is, comparatively, just part of the rhythm section, playing parts and grooves with Carla Bey on keyboards and Steve Swallow on electric bass. Tony is masterful, selfless, immediately identifiable, and in the end is simply playing the songs.
Jack DeJohnette: Made In Chicago (ECM, 2015); Jack DeJohnette, drums. Thankfully, there’s no shortage of wonderful DeJohnette recordings, from any era, but this more recent (recorded in 2014) set at the Chicago Jazz Festival highlights the ego-free energy at the core of DeJohnette’s music. Nowhere on this record does Jack signify his involvement in the music, never does he assert his identity; he simply exists, with his compatriots Roscoe Mitchell, Henry Threadgill, Muhal Richard Abrams, and bassist Larry Gray, and his genius and signature sound shines through. A highlight is the Threadgill/Gray/DeJohnette triologue on Abrams’ “Jack 5”; the music remains absolutely transparent throughout, all three voices coexisting as equals.
There were others, of course, but these stood out. In fact, almost any example of any great drummer or indeed any musician shows selflessness and individuality, but for some reason, I was thinking about these two legendary gentlemen, Tony Williams and Jack DeJohnette, the very epitome of creative artists. When I listened to them for guidance and direction, beneath their undeniable genius was simple music and profound drumming. It seemed, finally, that they were just listening and playing, but on the highest possible level.
Congratulations to Jacob Garchik for writing, producing, and directing such an incredible project! And a big thank you to my friends and colleagues Josh Dion, Jonathan Goldberger, Mary Halvorson, Ava Mendoza, Sean Moran, Miles Okazaki, and Brandon Seabrook, it’s an honor to be playing music with you.
In the meantime, as I continue digesting the works of Gerald Cleaver and Clifford Jarvis for two immediate-future ‘big posts’, here are some recent fascinations, all to be found on Bandcamp. Bandcamp supports the best new music by paying the artists, and has some hard-to-find older music— if you can’t find it streaming, or the CD is expensive on Discogs and only on sale in Japan, check Bandcamp. You never know….
Vicente Archer: Short Stories (Cellar 20, 2023) Bassist Vicente Archer and the great Bill Stewart make for a sympathetic and often surprising rhythm team; Vicente is oblique, mysterious, Bill is all clarity and direction, truly one of the giants of our time. Pianist Gerald Clayton is an ideal partner, and the tunes are great, but I was very taken with the two open-ended bass/drum duets, “It Takes Two To Know One” which conclude the album; Archer and Stewart get into some understated and flowing playing.
Joey Baron and Robin Schulkowsky: Now You Hear Me (Intakt, 2018). Was this recording given its proper due upon release? I may have missed it. Certainly, it’s a major event in the percussion world— one of the leading jazz drummers playing duo with a leading classical percussionist who is also an accomplished improviser. Moods are established, characters interact; grooves mutate, grow into each other, come together and unravel. Meditative, warm, inviting, welcoming, questioning; I know of no other drum album like this.
Sonny Clark Trio: The 1960 Time Sessions featuring George Duvivier and Max Roach (Tompkins Square, 2018). This very special session— the only Clark session devoted entirely to his own music— was remixed with vastly improved sound in 2017; the detail in Max’s playing on the opening cut is worth the price alone. With only a bass drum and snare drum, Roach casually delivers a master class; this is what bebop drumming is all about.
Albert Ayler: Slugs’ Saloon (ESP, recorded 1966). This is an audience or private recording, with less-than-perfect audio, but a priceless document, a glimpse of the New Thing in its first flowering. Ronald Shannon Jackson seems to have been known as Ron Jackson when he was a member of Albert Ayler’s quintet; for me, knowing only a few Jackson records from the Seventies and Eighties, this bootleg was something of a revelation. In 1966, Jackson was playing a conventional jazz drumset, and the barest hints of bebop were still present. At various points on the album, I hear his voice as I know it from Ornette and James Blood Ulmer come into focus.
There is no better teacher than DeJohnette when you need to focus on "musicality in drumming." The man has an incredible mind.
Very true...thanks for reading!