Drums are said to have first appeared on Earth sometime between the Paleolithic and Neolithic Ages, around 8000 B.C. Humans stretched animal skins over hollowed-out tree trunks and struck them with sticks and bones. Gourds were banged. Ancient Mesopotamian drums and called tribes to war. In Africa, beats ran up through jungles, sending messages and signaling the time of the hunt.
The first drummer cited by name in human history is Lipushiau, a woman from a place called Ur in Mesopotamia. She drummed as the head of Ekishnugal, Ur's most revered temple. In 684 BC, Chinese troops used tàigǔ drums to communicate and march in the battles between Qi and Lu.
It wasn’t until the year 1967 AD., that a soul man named James Brown called out, “Give the drummer some.” The song was “Cold Sweat,” and the drummer was Clyde Stubblefield, whose breakbeats would go on to become some of the most famous samples in history, paving a path to hip-hop and dance music.
In the year 3000, a legion of drummers will be levitated in drum-pods half a mile into the sky. Their syncopated playing will form a protective force field called the Sheen. Missiles won't be able to penetrate it. The more intricate the beat they play, the stronger the shield. Through drums, destruction will be destroyed. It's a long way from goatskin and bones, but drummers save the world.
Seattle’s KEXP programmed Funky Drummer Day - 12 hours of music honoring Clyde Stubblefield and his iconic eight-bar solo in the 1970 James Brown single “Funky Drummer.” The most sampled break in music history.
In the spirit of drumming and dummers, KEXP featured the following interviews as part of the program:
1. Frankie “Kash” Waddy (Funkadelic/James Brown)
2. Matt Cameron (Pearl Jam, Soundgarden)
3. Clive Deamer (Radiohead, Portishead)
4. Marky Ramone (The Ramones)
5. Mickey Hart (The Grateful Dead)
6. Neil Peart (Rush)
7. Matt Sorum (Guns N’ Roses, Velvet Revolver, The Cult)
8. Simone Pace (Blonde Redhead)
9. Kliph Scurlock (The Flaming Lips)
10. Stephan Perkins (Jane’s Addiction)
11. Nicko McBrain (Iron Maiden)
12. Chris Guanlao (Silversun Pickups)
13. Mark Gajadhar (The Blood Brothers, Champagne Champagne)
14. Faustine Hudson (The Maldives)
15. D'Vonne Lewis (Industrial Revelation, Skerik's Bandalabra, Digable Planets)
16. Davee Cee (Marmalade, Clinton Fearon)
17. Heather Thomas (Mary Lambert)
18. Tyler Swan (Truckasauras)
19. Kevin Sawka (Pendulum, Blake Lewis)
20. Dave Abramson (Master Musicians of Bukkake, Diminished Men)
21. Andy King (Nyves, Crypts, 18 Eyes, Joe Gregory)
22. Nat Damm (Sandrider, Akimbo)
23. J. Byrum (Black Breath)
24. Steve Smith (Seattle Drum School)
* These interviews previously appeared in The Stranger and Vice.
Frankie “Kash” Waddy (Funkadelic/James Brown)
How did you start drumming for James Brown?
We were studio musicians in Cincinnati at King Recording Studio. We were still in high school and would tour with different acts on James's roster. James was having trouble with his band and was making a switch. So he flew Bobby Byrd to Cincinnati in a Learjet to get us. The night before, we played a place called the Wine Bar for $15 total. The next day, Bobby Byrd put us in a limousine and shot us to the airport. We never even went in the direction of the airport, it wasn't in our vernacular—we didn't fly. [But] we flew to Columbus, Georgia, and they took us to this big venue. It was the National Guard Armory. We went in the back door. On the left side was the dressing room with all the cats we idolized—Fred Wesley, Maceo Parker, Kush Griffith. On the right-hand side, it was James's dressing room. It all happened quick. We had just flown and been in a limo for the first time. They shoved us to the stage, and it's the biggest crowd we'd ever seen. We gathered in a little huddle to play because we were used to being on such small stages. James came onstage, counted off a song, and that was that.
After the show, James screamed, "Y'all did great! Y'all killed me!! I'm going to give you $225." And we were happy with that. Then he said, "Naw, I'm gonna give you $250." And we thought, "Wow, a raise that quick!" Anyway, he did this counting all the way up to $450. The whole time, we were writing the amount on paper. Finally, James said, "What is that y'all are writing down?" We had to write it down so we knew how much to divide up between us. James laughed out, "Naw! You ain't splittin' nothing. That's for each of you!" Good money.
We had an old Dodge station wagon. We went from that to a Golden Eagle bus and a truck stocked full of brand-new Vox equipment. James and the Beatles were the only ones that had Vox endorsements. We had three changes of uniform, matching shoes... it was a trip. We were pinching ourselves like crazy because we couldn't believe it.
Can you talk about playing with bassist Bootsy Collins?
He and I have a thing that's so special. We're brothers. We've been through everything together. We went through James Brown, then to George Clinton's Funkadelic together. We've always made sure that he, his brother Catfish, and myself stayed together. When Bootsy and I play together, it's a no-brainer. It just works.
What makes you and Bootsy such a good rhythm section?
One of the major factors is the one. How we gravitate and generate, and accelerate from the one, and back to the one. And we just know each other so well. We've done everything together our whole career. We always had a small group. We didn't have a lot of money, and we couldn't afford a lot of people, so we had to play really tight. Everything had to be compound, and big. We talk from time to time about it, and we actually try not to figure it out. That way we won't mess with it. It just is.
Of the James Brown songs you've been a part of, which is your favorite?
It would have to be "The Grunt." One of only two instrumentals recorded by the original J.B.'s lineup with Bootsy and Catfish Collins. That one is so important to me because my father had had a talk with James about his intentions with us. And James said, "You know what? I'm gonna give them that song. I'm gonna let them have it." And he did. He made that song ours. He gave us all the rights and publishing on it. I'm still getting royalties on it to this day. James was a man of his word. He did what he told my father he was going to do.
James was made of music.
Yes. And we stayed with him as long as we could. He was older. We were real young and wild. We learned the world from him. Something not a lot of people know is that while we were with James, Jimi Hendrix was wanting us to be his band. He wanted a more black act, after being with [Noel] Redding and those guys. Jimi needed us to quit James, though, and he was going to pick us up. I was game, but the other guys didn't feel good about having to quit James.
It all worked out. We ended up then being in Funkadelic, which was a real free musical situation. With James it was a more strict, militaristic, disciplined type thing. With George Clinton, he was like, "Do whatever you want to do. Don't ask me nothing. If you can think it, you can do it." We went from one extreme to the other. We brought that professional discipline to Funkadelic. And it's still working. I'm still with P-Funk. And I'm still with Bootsy's Rubber Band. I'm the link between both groups.
What's your favorite Funkadelic song you've been on?
I'd say "Bop Gun." There are a lot of live recordings of that one that came out. That song had significance. I think it still stands up.
What was a Funkadelic session like?
George ran it like a factory. There would be two or three rooms going, and whoever got in there first would start putting their stuff down. Whoever wanted to join in did. Some of them came out really, really good. And some were just okay. But the great ones were worth it. Funkadelic recording was like an assembly line. One group of guys would record, then there'd be another group of guys waiting in the next room to lay down their thing on top of it. We went on like that forever. And while we were in the studio, we wouldn't listen to the radio or watch TV. We didn't want to be distracted or infected by anything. We didn't want to sound like something that was already out there.
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2. Matt Cameron (Pearl Jam, Soundgarden)
How can drummers put themselves in a position to make money from their drumming?
Money was never the goal for me, being good was the goal. It's more difficult now than it was when I began. Being able to program with music software is crucial, and it always helps to know how to read a chart. In music, there are good people and some bad ones, like any business. Focus on what you do best and believe in your abilities one thousand percent. No one wants a timid drummer.
What's your advice for new drummers?
What helped me early on was taking every gig I was offered. Playing different styles helped me find my own sense of groove. Practice with a metronome or drum machine. If you can't keep steady time, you won't get gigs. Most people in the audience don't notice good drumming, and that's okay. Your fellow musicians will. If the music is grooving and you feel inspired playing it, that's the ultimate reward. If you get a good reputation as a drummer and bandmate, you'll get gigs. Practicing alone is crucial, but you have to interact with other musicians to improve all aspects of musicianship. If it's recognition you're after, take singing lessons.
How do you go about licensing and publishing deals?
In the early Soundgarden days, we split our publishing equally. After a few albums, it wasn't good for band harmony to stay on this course. If the drummer doesn't contribute to the creative process, then they get no publishing [credits]. Once I started contributing as a songwriter, which took me years to do, not only did I receive a songwriter's share, but my role in the band became more valuable. I'm also fortunate to have worked with and learned from two of the best songwriters of my generation, Chris Cornell and Eddie Vedder.
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Clive and I, after Radiohead played Key Arena, Seattle
3. Clive Deamer (Radiohead, Portishead)
How did you get involved with Radiohead when they decided they wanted a second drummer?
I think they recorded The King of Limbs and decided later how they would perform it. Which meant either using a machine or a second drummer to generate the polyrhythmic aspect. In one sense, I'm the machine.
Did Radiohead give you parameters for your drumming?
Not really. Philip and I quickly agreed it shouldn't become a macho double-drummer battle. There's enough of that rubbish on YouTube.
How is it playing with Radiohead? Is it like flying? It has to be like flying, right? Or free-falling, in an aerodynamic cathedral?
It's amazing playing with them, and fun. They let me do my thing. I do my utmost to make my contribution relevant. We get along very well on- and offstage. They even put up with my endless anecdotes about Robert Plant. [Laughs] As for flying, I'll leave that to your psychotherapist.
What would you say is the trickiest part of playing with a band like Radiohead?
Learning to say no to the cake trolley.
What has surprised you the most?
That after 38 years playing drums, people like you want to interview me. [Laughs]
Radiohead is one of the few bands on earth right now where the shows are truly experiences, dumb as that sounds. People are so into the music, and the music is so heightened, and lucid, and multi-leveled. It's a holy thing. What's that like? Does it ever get old? Are there ever moments where you're like, "Oh my God, Thom Yorke is Mozart"?
It's true that there is something very moving when a large body of people come together with such heartfelt love of music, and when the music is this good it's impossible to not be moved by all those happy-spirited faces. However, Thom's always shaking his ass around the stage, so I soon remember where I am. I doubt Mozart did that, and Thom doesn't read music, so does that answer your question?
Who was it that called Radiohead freak monkeys?
That would be members of The Westboro Baptist Church protesting outside the gig in Kansas City. Yes, they described Radiohead as "freak monkeys with mediocre tunes." Assuming the statement was aimed at me, too, I have no problem being called a freak monkey. I suspect I have the greater chance of evolving. I've also heard their music, and it's as sour as their negative outlook.
I like "freak monkey" as a description. What do you and the Radioheads listening to on tour?
On tour I've been listening to Santigold's Creator, Rye Rye and M.I.A.'s "Bang," Major Lazer's "Pon de Floor." I had fun in KC playing the chaps some of my fave R&B and jazz clips on YouTube: Les McCann and Eddie Harris's "Compared to What" live in 1969; Aretha Franklin's "Don't Play that Song (You Lied)" from the Cliff Richard show in 1970; Big Joe Turner with the Hampton Hawes All-Stars. Thom and I discovered our mutual love for Howlin' Wolf—a no brainier, obviously!
What do you think about while you're playing? Give me a snapshot of your drumming brain while at work. There's the magnitude and experience of all that is Radiohead—that sonic temple that the sound builds, that's put out there. Where the songs elongate and fold into worlds. What runs through your mind as one of the engines that's hammering down the nuts and bolts of the grand canopy? Do you ever think about the book you are reading? Or the glass of orange juice you had for breakfast? Have you ever read H. G. Wells's The Time Machine? I imagine that while you're playing, in the throes of the Radiohead elongation, your mind might wander to the subterranean world of Wells's Morlocks. Or to that glass of orange juice you had for breakfast. But while you're playing, the glass turns into the Mediterranean Sea, made of orange juice, and you're piloting an ancient Greek trireme warship there. Please tell me this happens.
The contents of my mind come out best through a drum kit, not the spoken or written word
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4. Marky Ramone (The Ramones)
What’s your favorite Ramones song? If you had to say.
Okay, okay, let's see. I love "Rock 'n' Roll High School," but I also love "Sheena Is a Punk Rocker." I love "I Wanna Be Sedated." I love "Blitzkrieg Bop" [laughs]. It's too hard to just choose one. There are so many good ones, you know?
Of the Ramones albums you were involved in, which was the hardest to record?
We rehearsed a lot, so we were very quick in the studio. The album that took the longest was the one produced by Phil Spector: End of the Century. We usually made our albums in three to four weeks, but with Phil, it took five months. We weren't there that long; it was the mixing that took all the time. He put so many different instruments on that album that he had to keep listening to mixes and mixes and mixes. It wasn't rough making it, but there was just a lot of adventure going on in that studio, which I talk about it my book that I just finished. It'll be out in 2014.
So the whole Phil Spector holding you guys at gunpoint thing is a myth? But I want to believe.
Sorry, that was just some story. It's a good one. I would let it ride [laughs], but it's not true. I'm gonna be honest about it. I was in the studio the whole time with the other three Ramones. Phil didn't allow anybody else in the studio except for his engineer. He had a license to carry, but he never pointed them at us. Guns can get heavy, so he would take the guns off and put them on the recording console. I know he shot off guns with other people.
The Ramones hung out with Stephen King when you all did the song "Pet Sematary" for the movie based on his book?
Yeah, we got to hang out with him for a day and a night in Maine, where he lives. He was very happy we came to his place, and we were lucky we found it, coming all the way from New York. He was extremely hospitable. He brought us down to his basement that looked like a horror-movie set, and we sat around and ate dinner. He gave Dee Dee the book to read. Dee Dee took it home, read it, and then wrote the song in something like 40 minutes. He taught Johnny how to play the guitar on it. "Sheena Is a Punk Rocker" is also in the movie, in the scene with the baby and the truck—a crazy scene. Stephen would come to shows when we played in the area.
Is "Beat on the Brat" about a specific brat? Do you know?
Joey wrote that one. He was an unusual specimen, physically. As a kid, he got taunted and goofed on and teased a lot. After a while, that can get to you, like it did to him. So he wrote that song, "Beat on the brat, with a baseball bat." [Laughs] Of course, he would never have actually beat anyone with a baseball bat. Bullies are bad, because they always pick on the little guy—most of them are insecure, and they have to prove themselves. They'll never go up to the guy their size or bigger. My problem was I always fought with a guy bigger than me. And I never started a fight, it was always somebody hassling me.
I was glad when you and Joey made up on The Howard Stern Show.
The funny thing is, we laughed about that. We knew we had Howard going. When we went down in the elevator after the fight, we cracked up. And then we went back on to make up, because we knew he'd want us to make up on his show as a "part two." But really, it was good to make up, because Joey did die of cancer, and I was able to do the solo album he always wanted to do. Family squabbles are going to happen—we were like brothers. That stuff, you look back on and you laugh.
What studio did the Ramones like to record in? Was there one where you all seemed to click more?
We liked Media Sound on 57th Street in New York City. That's where we recorded. We liked the room—it was a big room, a lot of sound could bounce off the walls. Road to Ruin was recorded there, and out of that came "I Wanna Be Sedated."
On the production end, what would the Ramones aim toward for their particular sound?
We always made sure we had good production on the albums. A lot of punk bands would do it themselves, which I respect. And I don't mean this to be facetious, but a lot of their production wasn't good. Maybe they did that on purpose. I think the Ramones' production holds up today—we always made sure that we had good producers, because we knew in the end, it's the music that's the most important thing. And you want that music to live. We'd leave in dirt, yeah, we didn't want it too clean.
How does Marky Ramone want his drums to sound?
I want the drums to sound the way I tune them. I don't want effects on them. Just keep it nice and straight, and let the drum breathe. So that's what we did. The separation of the bass and the guitar always came out great. We'd record the drums first. Then bass and guitar. Then Joey would do his vocals.
Walk me back to Max's Kansas City. Sort of a hub for New York art and music for a bit?
Max's Kansas City was where all the New York punk luminaries hung out, and bands that would be passing through. People would talk, eat, and drink, and then from there we'd go to CBGB. On any given night, in the back room, you'd have the Ramones, David Bowie, Alice Cooper, Lou Reed, the Dolls, Johnny Thunders, Debbie Harry. You'd have Andy Warhol, Jayne County. The restaurant and bar were downstairs, and upstairs was where bands would play. Capacity was maybe 200 to 250 people. Very intimate. I just finished playing these huge festivals like Rock in Rio, so it's good to get back to venues with this current tour. Max's was smaller, a lot of people didn't have to play there, but they wanted to.
I spoke with Glenn Danzig, and he said punk is dead, and new bands calling themselves punk aren't punk. Do you agree?
Danzig was more into the horror stuff. I don't know if he's really a punk spokesman. I think there absolutely are good, new punk bands. I have a radio show on SiriusXM, and I hear a lot of great new punk stuff—Gallows out of London are really good, so are Riverboat Gamblers. I also like the Loved Ones. You gotta keep your ears open, you know? Lots of good bands are taking their cue from the Ramones, the Clash, and the Pistols. They mix it up and put their own spin on it.
Does it ever get old hearing bands that sound way too much like the Ramones?
I always feel like a band should be original. If they're that influenced by us, then great, I'm grateful. It's a compliment when I see a band in the jeans and the jackets, with Chuck Taylors, and counting off "One-two-three-four," and playing faster with songs that sound like us. I mean, that's been going on since 1977 when the Ramones went to England, and then England started its punk scene because the Ramones flipped 'em out over there. But in order to really be noticed, you can't sound exactly like your influences, because they're already there. You've gotta come up with something fresh—something that'll help you get noticed.
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5. Mickey Hart (The Grateful Dead)
Mickey Hart is a theologian, a historian/archivist of planetary sounds. He's a big-bang worshiper, an author, and a Grammy-winning deep thinker. Life skims into and through his neurons as quantum physics and vibratory patterns.
I see you as a seer because of your abilities and experiences playing music, traveling the world, and collecting music. You've gone way in, and out, and looked into a different cauldron of life. You see and hear deeply into the world. What are your latest findings? What are the latest discoveries from Mr. Mickey Hart, Theologian?
I'll tell you. Speaking as Mickey Hart, Rhythmist, it's about the rhythm of things. Everything is interlocked. The world is rhythm. Everything in the world has a vibration. Anything that's alive and moves has a vibration. And if it has a vibration, it has a sound. And if it has a sound, there's an effect emotionally that it can have on you, spiritually perhaps. Whether it be through brain-wave function or something that makes you dance, it's all interconnected. Music is just a miniature for what's happening in the universe and deep space, from the beginning of time 13.7 billion years ago.
Hell yeah.
I'm trying to explain and allow people inside the vibratory universe. It's the key to everything. Life is rhythm, on simple terms. Like Einstein's theory of relativity: He wanted to boil it down to one little equation. Now I'm working in the cosmos, translating light waves into sound waves, from the big bang to the present. I'm looking at the science of music, as opposed to the art of music.
Light waves from space?
Yes. I'm working with NASA and scientists like George Smoot, who won the Nobel Prize in 2006 for his discovery of the big bang. We're changing radiation light waves into sound waves. Pulsars, galaxies, supernovas, black holes, stars, planets—they all have a vibration. And since space is a vacuum, there's no sound. The only way those vibrations can travel is through light waves. Once we've gathered those with radio telescopes, I take the algorithms and make sound out of it. And that's what this band I'm touring with now is about. The band will be playing these sounds and having a conversation with the universe.
What does it sound like? Whale song? Noise?
It's not noise when I get finished with it. It does come to me as noise. With computers, I make music out of it. It wouldn't be that interesting otherwise: It's very unharmonic, dense sound.
Like Slayer.
Not exactly. I open the light readings up and extract pieces from it, put it in various keys, and make music out of it. The band plays with it and has a conversation with the infinite universe. You'll be hearing sounds that no human has ever heard before. The sounds that spawned you. These vibrations that are your ancestors.
Whoa. Holy shit.
These are the seed sounds. This is where we came from. We came from vibrations, then we crawled out of the swamps with myosin proteins helping mobility, and became humans. But it all started with a vibratory origin. Music is controlled vibrations. This music comes from the beginning of time and space.
What is time and space? Why are we here? Are we even here?
Yeah, we're here [laughs]. There are many theories. Like the multiverse, where different times happen at the same time, different realities at the same time in parallel universes. String theorists say time moves backward and forward, and we live in all these dimensions simultaneously—that there are different realms of perception.
Like hallucinogenic drugs.
We're talking right now, but things are happening that we can't perceive. We are alive. And we do live in the past and the future simultaneously. Many levels of perception are available to us if we have the sensors to pick them up.
Do you believe in God?
If there is a god, it has to be a vibration. I don't believe in a god, I believe in a creational force. In my case, it's a rhythm—the beginning of time and space—the big bang, that's my god. Rhythm. There could be something that came before the big bang. Before the beginning of time and space. They say gases came together and caused an explosion, but no one really knows.
Right. So who made God?
God is a human invention. Humans try to explain the universe, which is unexplainable, so we come up with myths and legends, like God as a superior being that created all this. No one out there said, "Let this happen." It happened through a physical event 13.7 billion years ago. Even the Vatican recognizes that now. Organized religion is starting to come to grips with the God stories. Great minds have tried to explain the universe: Plato, Pythagoras, Kepler. Pythagoras gave numerical equations to the planets, the earth, the sun, and the stars. He saw the universe as giant heavenly clockwork. He discovered the octave, the fifth. A lot of the ancients were right, they just didn't have the instruments to measure it.
What do you think about the band Nickelback? That's not vibration. That's marketed, Walmart/Clear Channel schlop.
There are a lot of different sounds for a lot of different kinds of people. It's very much like food. Some people don't like asparagus. Some people can't eat meat. I wouldn't be presumptuous enough to comment on how good or bad Nickelback is or isn't. To some people, maybe it's the sound of God. Some people may think it's noise. And that's the way it should be. There's a lot of need in the world for sound. There are a lot of hardworking musicians out there trying to make good sound. If you don't like it, don't buy it. Then it will go away.
What are some of your findings on Parkinson's and Alzheimer's disease?
When someone has a motor impairment, the neural pathways are broken somehow—from disease, a weakened immune system, the aging process, whatever. A lot of things can break the connections. Vibrations reconnect these broken pathways somewhat. We don't know how exactly, but we know that it does. That's the grail. It's like how finding dark matter would be to an astrophysicist or a string theorist—the glue that holds the universe together. Besides protons and neutrinos, 80 percent of the world is dark matter. We don't know what it is, but it's out there. It's the same thing with music. Music is very powerful. It's really only been used for celebration of life, dancing, entertainment, making love, and things like that. But now the therapeutic qualities in music are being noticed. Harnessing those, you have to understand where rhythm came from and where vibration came from. It's the big bang, of course, 13.7 billion years ago. The moment of creation, time, and space, and how it led us to being here, 13.7 billion years later, as Homo sapiens on this blue-green spinning rock. Once you know that, you can start to crack the code. There's like a musical DNA. How it works and how you can repeat it on a daily basis. Very much like a doctor would prescribe medicine. You can also think of music as medicine and prescribe music for certain ailments once we figure out the code. And that's what we're about to do.
The Grateful Dead had the improvisational "space" sections in your shows. Journeys for people on various journeys. What were some of your visions, or things you saw, or thought of, during these sections? Did Jerry Garcia ever turn into a crab or Gandhi or anything?
[Laughs] Jerry looked like a fish a lot. I wouldn't have visions. Sometimes there were colors. I'd put everything out of my head and be totally in the moment. That part of the show was not about thought, it was just about emotional context. Certainly, people and places take on certain characteristics, especially when you're in the zone. The answer to a question you didn't ask—that you almost asked—is that those parts of the shows, we would never talk about them, afterward or before. We'd never arrange them. They were supposed to be what we were feeling right there at that time.
Or the multiple times happening at that time, in the multiverse. Eleven versions of ourselves living simultaneously in 11 existences. In three, I am breakdancing. Like, I'm a state champion breakdancer. In seven, I live falling in a bottomless pit, with a society of fallers made and arranged to fall. In the last one, I'm a tangerine, or a dolphin.
You have to put them completely out of mind afterward, so you can create something original the next night. That's improvisational art—creating a very sophisticated superstructure, then throwing it away. It shows the impermanence of life. If there are any images for me from these sections, that's it—creating the wonderful mandala, then just blowing it away. Gone forever.
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6. Neil Peart (Rush)
Does your drum set ever seem excessive?
When I added the electronic portion, the kit became 360°. There are a lot of drums. Nothing goes unused though [laughs].
If I had a phobia of small grocery stores, that thing would scare the ever-living shit out of me. Please talk about your book Clockwork Angels. Congrats by the way. You’re getting steampunk there?
There’s some alchemy involved, yes. The book is expanded out from a story I wrote in my lyrics for the album. There’s a watchmaker, who imposes precision. I worked with writer Kevin Anderson, he’s incredible. He took it and ran. We also had Hugh Syme do some art to go with it. He’s won a Juno award, and we’ve worked with him in the past. He’s done tons of art for bands.
Were you pissed it took Rush so long to get into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?
I’m not too concerned with it.
What about those weird “recommended pages?" I got one for Mistress Gwendolyn last week. She does erotic objectification, like some thing where she makes a coffee table out of herself. I don’t see what’s erotic about being a coffee table. You probably see all kinds of things on tour.
We’re pretty low key actually. We like to stay in our rooms and read. I haven’t seen any coffee tables like that.
I was listening to your new song, “The Wreckers." Your words are “The breakers roar, on an unseen shore / In the teeth of a hurricane, we struggle in vain.” Is that about the watchmaker’s steampunk ship?
You probably know more about steampunk than me.
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(photo: Glenn Francis, PacificProDigital.com)
7. Matt Sorum (Guns N’ Roses, Velvet Revolver, The Cult)
What runs through your mind when you play, besides Jesus?
Every civilization throughout time has had drums. Whether it’s a war chant, for the Apache Indians, to a Kenyan tribe in Aftica. I think the vibration from the sound of a drum is healing. As a kid that’s why I started playing. There was a divorce in my family and it was traumatic. Drumming made me feel better.
You’ve drummed in different bands and projects over the years. What changes about you and your drumming when you switch between bands?
I morph to the band. I’ve always been a song drummer. I’ve got my chops, but for me it’s more about playing the song the way it needs to be played. I come from of the Ringo Starr, Phil Rudd approach there. It’s about the song, not me. What can I do to make the song work? It’s not about being a great drummer, it’s about making the song great. When you think about great drummers, Charlie Watts and Ringo Starr are at the top of the list because they play the way the song needs them to play, not because they’re flashy.
When I was in the Cult, the sound of the songs and the band dictated the way I played. When I joined Guns ‘N Roses, I became more like what they were. Including the drinking and everything else. The whole attitude. I was like, if I’m going to do this, I’m totally going to do it. It would be like if you joined a gang or something. Me and my drumming kind of morphed into the personality of the band. Same thing with Velvet Revolver. There, it became forward thinking. Let’s take this ahead. Let’s look back, let’s remember the past, but let’s take it forward. Musicians need to grow. Musicians will die if they don’t grow. If you want to play the same song for 30 years, be my guest. A lot of people do that very well. AC/DC has done the same record 25 times. But that’s who they are and they’re great. Their theory is if it ain’t broke don’t fix it. But I want to grow and try new things. My new project Diamond Baby is completely different for me, it’s all electric. I don’t drum that much with it at all. It’s more of a sonic trip. I’m layering snare drums, and kick drums, and having fun with the sonics of it, and enjoying producing. I’m trying to give these electric sounds an organic, acoustic feel. Which isn’t easy. I listen to a lot of Kraftwerk, Bauhaus, Depeche Mode, Kate Bush, and early Peter Gabriel.
Do you have any Duff McKagen stories?
Duff McKagen is a Seattle guy. One time Duff called me and invited me to come up to Seattle for a Sonics basketball game. I think it was the playoffs. He was all excited. So I bought a plane ticket and flew up. We got to Key Arena for the game and were walking out to our seats. Duff starts walking up instead of down. I was like, “What are you doing? Where are our seats?” He said, “I like to sit with the real people” and he ends up walking up to the absolute nose bleed section. I think we sat in the very last row. I said, “But Eddie Vedder sits down there, next to the court. We should too.” It was pretty funny. He had me fly to Seattle to sit in the nose bleed section for a game.
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(photo: Marlene Marino)
8. Simone Pace (Blonde Redhead)
Simone has been drinking espresso since the age of five-and-a-half. His twin brother Amadeo, is also in Blonde Redhead.
So what’s it like being in a band for 22 years with your twin brother? How does it help? How does it hurt?
Being a twin, a lot of things don’t need to be said between us. You don’t have to explain things as much. The music, and communication, and the vision are more innate. Before, I was in a band with my twin brother, and my girlfriend, which was challenging. But you learn to make up with them quickly after a squabble, because they’re family and you’re around them so much. If you’re in a band with people who aren’t your family, if there’s a big disagreement, you could just choose not to work with them again. But with family, it’s a little different. There’s not really anything bad about it. I’d say something that might be bad is that we’ve been doing it for so long, sometimes I feel a little allergic to him [laughs]. It’s not that we can’t stand each other, it’s that sometimes playing with someone new is refreshing, and you get to soak up their personality. The bad parts are things that happen with any band, and any relationship. You have to keep working at it, and working to evolve.
If you guys had a physical altercation, who would win?
We would wrestle as kids. Some months he would win, some months I would. We were always competitive. He’s a little bossy, so maybe now he would win [laughs].
Blonde Redhead is simple and complex at the same time.
We try to not crowd the sounds. Sometimes it’s hard. You’ll hear a melody, or a line you want to add to a song. But it might be best to leave it more stripped down, and leave it with more space. Some things are better left unsaid [laughs]. I think the more space you give something, the more sound you have. The albums I love the most are minimal, where one instrument has lots of space and sounds huge because of it. I think when instruments are stacked on top of each other, you can lose some of the focus.
What’s a minimal album you love?
Early Caetano Veloso, and Chico Buarque. I like them a lot. Also Connan Mockasin.
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9. Kliph Scurlock (The Flaming Lips)
How did you become the Flaming Lips' drummer?
Beck had asked the Flaming Lips to be his backing band on a tour supporting Sea Change. I was a Lips roadie at the time, and their friend. I didn't think I would be drumming for anyone. Beck was so flaky, and Wayne couldn't get any concrete answers out of him about anything, so it seemed like a good idea to bring me to LA for the rehearsals. I would be there to get them sodas and food or whatever. When we got there and Beck didn't have a drummer lined up, they pointed at me and said, "Well, you play drums, and we need to get to work—get up there."
The rehearsals had been set to go for two weeks, 12 hours a day. On day six, Beck brought some drummers in to try out. He wasn't there for the tryouts, of course, but the Lips guys were good sports and played with each of them. Beck finally showed up around 7:00 p.m. and asked which one they wanted. They said they wanted me. Beck argued that I was an unknown and not a professional drummer. Wayne really dug in his heels and explained to Beck that they already knew me, and that we knew how to work together—plus rehearsals were almost halfway over and we were all on the same page, and if one of the other guys came in, they'd have to go back to the beginning and teach him all of the songs. After about 15 minutes, Beck relented and said, "Sure, fine, whatever," and left for the evening. For those two weeks, by the way, Beck rarely showed up. We would work from noon to midnight every day, and he'd show up for an hour around 6:00 or 7:00, listen to what we had done, and chat.
On the first night of the tour, I was watching the place fill up and it suddenly hit me that for the first time in my life, I was going to earn a paycheck by playing drums. And I was going to be playing drums with my favorite band, to boot. The tour was set up so that the Lips would open the show and then reset the instruments to be Beck's band. About 20 minutes before the Lips were due to go on, I got kind of emotional with Wayne and started thanking him profusely for sticking up for me, and for giving me this opportunity to play with them and to actually play in front of an audience. He very glibly replied, "Yeah, sure. You should have told us you were a good drummer. We would have had you play with us sooner. Shit, we ought to have you play with us now. Steven Drozd is playing drums on 'Race for the Prize' and 'A Spoonful Weighs a Ton.' You should play the rest." And they've been stuck with me ever since.
I haven't played with Beck since that tour, and I think it's a very mutual decision. I have a ton of respect for his music, but he was very difficult to work with and he exists in a different world than I'm used to. If Wayne and I have a problem, we sit down and talk it out instead of having some roadie relay our messages back and forth, which is how Beck does things. I don't mean to talk shit, because he's Beck and he can do whatever he wants, but most of that tour was a miserable experience. Whatever, I made some money and I ended up being a Flaming Lip as a result of it.
Do you ever get to get in the Space Bubble? Or is that just for Wayne?
I was in the Space Bubble for a bit when Wayne first got it and we were trying it out to see how durable it would be. I was also in one for several hours when we shot a video for the song "Spongebob and Patrick Confront the Psychic Wall of Energy." Being in that thing for four hours with a faux fur coat on and lights blaring on me was enough, and I've never felt the desire to be in one again. Those things zip from the outside, so once you're in it, the only way to get out is if someone helps you out. I kept having panicked thoughts of the other guys fucking with me and leaving me in there as a joke. So yeah, I'm cool with only Wayne being in it.
I wanted to get you to pick out a Flaming Lips song and break down how the recording came together, from your perspective, laying down the drums for it. Any song you want to talk about. Geek out please.
I don't know why, but "See the Leaves" was the first song that came to mind. For that one, it started with a jam Wayne and I were doing one evening. At some point, we hit on this cool bit and decided it would be a great tag to a song called "Embryonic Storm," which actually ended up being left off our last record, which is called Embryonic. I set the drums up in the upstairs portion of the studio, and Wayne had a bass and an amp in the usual tracking area downstairs. We played that bit for about 10 minutes with the intention of Dave Fridmann, the Lips' longtime producer, editing the best bits down to, like I said, a little one-minute tag for the end of another song. We went in to listen to it, and Dave said that—for his money—the first two and a half minutes were great and then it started to lose steam, so he picked that point and lopped off the rest. Then Steven started laying down his magical parts over the top of it. And Wayne quickly came up with some lyrics and sang the vocals. Steven added some harmonies. Then Steven had an idea for a bit at the end, which, after several more layers of his magic, turned into the second half of the song. Wayne came up with some lyrics for that part and sang it, Steven did his harmonies, and voilà, we had a whole song, rather than this one-minute tag. Dave mixed it, we left the original song off, and I guess it was history.
As far as drums. I used my C&C 24-inch kick drum and 13-inch rack tom, a 14-inch Ludwig snare and 14-inch Istanbul hi-hats and a 22-inch Istanbul Crash Ride. Dave used three mics on the drums, one close to the kick drum and two pointed at the walls to catch the reflection from them. He used a mic and a direct out on the bass amp. Most of Steven's cool bits were on keyboards and were recorded direct, though there are some guitar things that obviously used an amp. I think he went through the same amp that Wayne's bass went through.
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10. Stephan Perkins (Jane’s Addiction)
Perkins’ drumming is a choreographed, primal torrent, running poised Arabian cycles of mortar that dive down to the cosmic pelvis of urges. For Jane’s Addiction, he perfectly drives the cadence of their erogeny.
What makes a great drummer?
When great drummers play, they’re doing yoga, and killing a lion at the same time. You gotta have a quick Sugar Ray Leonard jab. But at the same time you gotta be a ballerina up there.
What do you think about when you drum?
I think about what happens from below the waist. How do I make people move? I don’t think about mathematical drum parts that make people think, or about extremely fast drum fills that make people go, “Wow.” I’m trying to make people’s asses move. Especially women. If I get guys to move, great. But if I can get girls to feel that beat, that’s what I want. That’s my objective in life, to make people move. Most of those people in my mind should be women. When women dance, their hips move, and their hips are what make babies. As a drummer, that’s what I’m after.
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11. Nicko McBrain (Iron Maiden)
Nicko McBrain plays a drum kit with many drums. He slays dragons. Iron Maiden is one of the greatest metal bands of all time.
My Mom thought your song “666” was evil. Can you please help me out explaining it to her? She thought I was listening to Satanic music, so she confiscated it.
Well, the song is about a dream. And if she confiscated the CD, then she'd have to take your Bible away, too. Because it comes from the Book of Revelation. The imagery of that song, it does conjure a bit of darkness. And that scares some people. But that's okay. And the image of Eddie being this skeleton creature. It is scary. Tell your mom I'm sorry, it's just part of our story. You can tell her we're not demons. I play golf! [Laughs] And that you can't judge a book by its cover.
And never judge a band by its 18-foot-tall demonic mascot.
Eddie's just a puppy dog. Tell your mom I'm here in my hotel room watching the British Open golf tournament. We drink tea before we play our shows. Satanic, evil people don't drink tea before they play. Maybe that will help with your mom. I've actually been playing golf with Alice Cooper on this tour. Alice has been opening for us. But he likes to play in the morning on the day of a show, at the crack of dawn. Mark Twain said, "Golf is a good walk spoiled." But that's not true. I love it.
Does anything ever go wrong with the Eddies? I mean, they're basically big robots.
Things occasionally happen with the Eddies, yes—a stumble here or there. A gear gets caught. Three or four shows ago, I stood up to see what was going on. And there's the fetus, right by my head. It scared me to death. I should probably know where the fetus is from now on.
Is that an umbilical cord hanging down on your drum kit?
It's above me, but yeah, it's an umbilical cord. I probably need to watch out for that thing, as well. There's a walkway up there; it's Bruce's domain. It's quite a theatrical set.
Your drum kit is so huge, have you ever thought about scaling down to a smaller kit?
The band won't let me. It is harder these days to get all the way around the thing on the toms. But everything is right where it needs to be for me. At one point, someone was trying to get me to add cymbals, but I told him, "There's no more room."
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12. Chris Guanlao (Silversun Pickups)
Did you meet the Roots when you played Jimmy Fallon?
Yes. They're insanely good. Questlove is incredible. That was the most nerve-racking performance. That studio is pretty cramped, so when you play, the Roots are right on top of you—literally right next to you, staring at you, six feet away. When you perform, they don't leave their instruments. It messed with my head [laughs]. I was thinking, "Oh my God, I'm not worthy. They know I'm a horrible drummer." Every year for the Grammys, the Roots host a party where they invite people to come jam with them. They asked us to do it, but we had to decline. Not because we didn't want to do it, but because we're not musicians like they are—we would have made fools out of ourselves! I hope they didn't think anything of it; it was purely because we were afraid.
Whose TV show has the best greenroom?
Jimmy Kimmel's. There's a wine bar and hors d'oeuvres; they invite a lot people, so you feel like it's a club.
Do you guys get crazy with your rider?
We're pretty tame, to be honest. We have reduced-fat cheeses on there. By the end of the day, the cheeses are gone. One weird thing I request is alkaline water [laughs]. It's supposed to be better—the molecules are smaller, so it's supposedly good for your blood. It's not very easy to find, but when they actually have it for us, I drink that shit up.
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13. Mark Gajadhar (The Blood Brothers, Past Lives, Champagne Champagne)
Gajadhar is a jackhammer speed surgeon, and a Seattle musical treasure. He pounds with velocity, power, endurance, and accuracy. A punk engine shattering out supreme, inimitable patterns.
He told a story about a girl who showed up at a Blood Brothers show in Germany with a bass. She got onstage and tried to play with the band.
Wait, so a girl in Germany actually got onstage at a Blood Brothers show and tried to plug in and play?
Something like that. We were on tour in Munich, with Liars, I believe. We pull up to the venue and we're loading in, and we see this girl sitting out front, holding a bass, no case. She was just sitting there holding her bass, ready to play.
Ready to rock.
We couldn't tell what she was doing, but she was ready to rock. She approached us and said, "Hey, I brought my bass to play with you guys tonight." She was pretty dead set on it. We continued loading, and she was kind of harassing us. She told Jordan [Blilie] that he looked like a little hamburger.
How did the show unfold?
We started playing, and I could see her in the crowd with her bass, inching closer, eyeing the bass side of the stage. She stood out—the one person standing there with a bass. Then she made a move, got onstage, and lunged at Morgan [Henderson]'s setup. I think for a second she was actually plugged in and playing.
What did y'all do?
We stopped playing midsong and told her, all together, "This is inappropriate. We are going to finish our set, without you onstage with your bass." Cody [Votolato] and I thought it was the funniest thing ever. I'm pretty sure Morgan was fairly upset with the whole scenario, because it's kind of geared toward him, since he's the bass player. You could see people there were like, "What is this girl doing?"
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14. Faustine Hudson (The Maldives)
Her drumming is sly and wise. Heavy stomp. Swamp/star child and traveler. Best shuffle-beat in town. Her drum motion is circulatory, furtive, and blurring. There's a wily, jutting sense about her time keeping, and she usually plays with a big smile plastered wide across her face.
What's your approach to drumming?
Passion and love. No approach; it just puts me in a Zen-ful place.
How do you get ready for shows?
I drink a coconut, go for a dip in the closest body of water, and stay as far away from the bar as possible.
Do you experience sexism?
I have this mentality that I can accomplish whatever the fuck I want. My sex doesn't ever cross my mind as being an advantage or disadvantage. I'm a musician, and have put 20 years into it. I was in San Francisco about five years ago, at an old blues joint watching old blues dudes do their thing. I pulled out an old, shitty tape recorder to record the show. When the singer/guitar player saw it, he started freaking out. He was saying he was gonna sue me, and have me eighty-sixed from the place. I told him he could have the tape, that I was a musician, and that I respected what he was doing. He wasn't having it, saying I was no musician, which made me snap a bit. My response was something like, "I can shuffle better than anyone in this town. Here is the fucking tape." He said, "Why don't you sit in with us then?" So I did. And by the end of the night, I went from the asshole who was trying to bootleg a blues jam to the friend from Seattle, drummer girl, who can shuffle like no other around them parts.
What do you make of the drummer's role in the business of music?
Music as a collective is a beautiful thing, and I think as a band or project, you're only as good as your drummer. Because drummers hold the space for everything else to be happening around the feel. But I don't think everybody sees it like that. Copyright tends to be about the hook or melody line. So why pay out equally if the drummer didn't come up with that, ya know? The bands that seem to have longevity are the ones that basically operate in an equal way. Every drummer's feel is different, which is what makes us unique. Set the expectations early on that you're valuable, and you're offering a service only you can provide.
Looking back, would you do anything differently?
No way, man! I'm a believer that everything happens for a reason. I would never tour like I did in my early 20s. Or play on records for free without even having a conversation about it with the artist. But I also wouldn't take back those experiences, because they helped me respect what I do, and myself. And they've shaped how I fake playing music in "the industry." My dad said, "If you don't feel it, don't play it."
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15. D'Vonne Lewis (Industrial Revelation, Skerik's Bandalabra, Digable Planets)
He's a jazz-based scientific calculator with constant feel and awareness who's permanently in the pocket and tight. He spoke while driving to Tacoma for a show.
How many gigs do you play a week?
I play 13 or 14 gigs a week. Thursday through Sunday, it's two to three gigs a day. If I do one at 2 p.m., I'm ready to keep it going. I'm open to playing anything. Get there on time. Be respectful. You get respect if you put in respect.
How did you become so pro, and so well-rounded?
I envision how other drummers would play a certain part. How would Zigaboo from the Meters play it? I play with lots of people, and spend time studying their music and style. This is all I do. Some shows might be worth playing for less, especially in the beginning. At some point you need more than Tim's Cascade chips and beer. I've talked to other musicians about when to say no to things.
What's your advice for drummers wanting to make a living from it?
Learn all styles. Make a mixtape with different kinds of music, and practice to it. Mr. Brown at Roosevelt High gave me good tips. I played a ton. I took it upon myself to get better. Somebody laid Coltrane on me with Elvin Jones. Then I had to check out Tony Williams, Miles Davis, Max Roach, and Art Blakey. Then came Papa Jo Jones with the big band, and then I headed over to Buddy Rich. After that it was like, "Oh, there are all these rock drummers, check out Neil Peart." I really studied people, and started to see how it was all related. Right out of high school I went on a tour. There were per diems and everything. I was like, "What's a per diem?"
What happens when people try not to pay you?
It doesn't happen much anymore. I'd say, "Okay, when can you get it to me?" If they say a day, and that day comes, and they still don't have it, I'll just remember never to work with them again. They needed it more than me, I guess.
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16. Davee Cee (Marmalade, Clinton Fearon, Klozd Sirkut)
Davee lays down a funk foundation solid enough to hold up the 99 viaduct, while simultaneously shaking it to the ground.
What's your advice for new drummers?
Practice, practice, practice. It's important to know your instrument and all its possibilities. Be on time and have a positive mental attitude, because no matter how good you are, nobody wants to work with an asshole. It's hard for a lot of us to get paid recording gigs and even harder to get your points on your royalties. This happens because in a recording project, drummers are looked at as a small piece of the process, especially if you're not involved with songwriting, which most drummers aren't.
How can drummers improve their business end?
Get into writing. Get into beatmaking and showcasing them on your biggest tool in the toolbox—the internet. Who's better suited to make beats than a drummer? Ask questions about how you can be more involved, and start writing songs yourself. Dave Grohl became very involved in Nirvana's songwriting, and obviously Foo Fighters'. Neil Peart of Rush writes most of their lyrics. Jeff Porcaro helped write "Human Nature" on Michael Jackson's Thriller, arguably the biggest-selling record of all time. But don't worry about the money so much that it takes over your art. Play great, take care of your business, and the money will come.
What happened that made you start to treat your drumming more seriously?
I was in a band called IMIJ, and we opened for Fishbone on a tour. After our set, I'd watch their drummer, Fish, just kill it every single night. I came back home from that with "Post Traumatic Drum Syndrome," and I practiced like I never had before. It felt born-again the way he went through different styles, and his intensity always stuck with me.
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17. Heather Thomas (Mary Lambert, Darci Carlson)
Thomas has a degree in percussion performance from Central Washington University. Heather is a jazz hound, extending skillfully into funk and rock with a well-stamped backbeat. She spoke on tour in Ellensburg, fresh off European shows with Mary Lambert.
How was Europe with Mary Lambert?
Initially, Mary wasn't going to take me. The tour was going to be a stripped down thing. But I said, "If you really want to do it right, you have to have your full band." I didn't want to miss out on the chance to go over there with them. I didn’t make any money, but it was definitely worth it for the experience. I truly love working with Mary and the band. It’s a great group of people. For Mary’s next album, she's planning on giving the band writing credits, which is exciting for me. Mary values her band, and I feel fortunate to be a part of it.
How do you know when it's not worth it?
Some shows are worth playing for less because they're good opportunities, and you're playing with great people. Obviously, it's important to make money. I try to make at least $100 from each gig, and don't usually take studio sessions for under $250 a day. One side of drumming is that you're limited to only making money as a performer. In the studio, you get a day rate, but most of the time you don't make a cut of the album. You also aren't assuming any of the risk if there's a loss. On tour, I'll get my per diem and my rate per gig, but I don't make a bigger cut if we're playing a huge show.
What's your advice for new drummers?
If you're good, and prepared, and you're easy to work with, there will eventually be too many gigs. Value yourself. Become a songwriter. If you feel like you're a cowriter on a song, make that clear before it gets too far along in the process. Maybe get it in writing. People will treat you a certain way if you allow them to. I want drummers to know they’re valuable members of the team, and it’s a huge advantage to see yourself as an equal musician and songwriter.
What do you do when people try to get out of paying you?
Sometimes bands will be paid at the end of the night with a check, and the bandleader won't have that much cash on them. It can be a problem if you were expecting to get paid. What if your rent is due? I provide ways to make getting paid easy. Venmo is great. It's an app that makes a direct electronic transfer of funds into your Venmo account or your bank account, and it doesn't take a percentage. That way you're not chasing someone around for the money.
If you have a feeling you're not going to get paid for a gig, you can't sit around and hope you're going to get paid. You have to go get it. You have to take care of yourself. Of course, be tactful. Money is tough, especially when your bandmates are your friends. You hate having to hound someone for money. Be as up front as possible.
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18. Tyler Swan (Truckasauras)
Swan is a beat making guru, and a drummer with diamond cut exactitude. He’s got feel for days and days.
Why is Rolling Stones’ Charlie Watts such a good drummer?
He does more with less. It’s more about pockets and feels, than fancy fills. He’s one of my favorite drummers by far. And Keith Richards, in my opinion, is the best rock n’ roll rhythm guitar player ever. If you pick apart these songs, there’s a reason why people love them so much.
Growing up in Kirkland, WA, what music had the biggest effect on you?
I learned how to play drums listening to Led Zeppelin records. I was a total Led Zeppelin nerd. My Dad played the Stones and Dylan all the time. My Mom bumped the Pink Floyd. A lot of these Rolling Stones songs are engrained in my head. When I was in second grade, my parents surprised me and pulled me out of school for a day to take me to see the Stones in Vancouver. It was the Steel Wheels tour. I got to see them with original bass player Bill Wyman playing.
What’s your favorite Rolling Stones story?
I like when Charlie Watts told Mick Jagger that he wasn’t his drummer. Watts said Mick was his singer. I guess Watts punched him. Who knows how much is true. And before he punched him, apparently he shaved and cleaned up, and put on a suit.
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19. Kevin Sawka (Pendulum, Blake Lewis)
Kevin "KJ" Sawka is an aberration of drum-n-bass nature. His drumming is a cyborg metronome gorilla-love-child conceived from Neil Peart (Rush) having a ménage à trois with Squarepusher and a wrecking ball. Sawka has supra-timing. He's not just on beat, he's out in front of the beat, reading the beat's future. He plays a hybrid acoustic/electronic drum kit like he's taking dictation from a coked-up, mutant Elektron drum machine. At times, he tucks a drumstick under his right armpit to manipulate gear and play drums at the same time. He calls his solo material glitch hop, crunch step, or jungle house. Sawka is the example of what a drummer can do when at one with machines.
How did you become Pendulum's drummer?
They got turned on to my YouTube videos. We both were huge fans of each other's work. It was a pretty natural connection.
You play on a big drum riser for them?
A six-foot drum riser. I have a baby rat that sleeps next to my kit at all times. When we're not playing Pendulum tunes, we forgather and play Gilles Binchois covers on a bed of Tomás Luis de Victoria classics.
How is Ellen DeGeneres?
Sweet as ever. She just sent me a Juiceman juicer.
Has your drumming changed over time? For someone who has mastered a craft, how does your playing shift?
I play in more of a rock way. I play a lot of slower dubstep and drum step beats these days. Which is half-time or more of jungle and drum 'n' bass. I'm working on aerials, layouts, and tucks from my riser.
What's your kit like for Pendulum, as opposed to what you normally like to play? With 78 crash cymbals?
My Pendulum kit is BIG. It's got 22 cymbals, eight triggered, acoustic drums, and six electronic pads.
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20. Dave Abramson (Master Musicians of Bukkake, Diminished Men)
Where does your sound come from? Obviously, you're into some Dick Dale. But are you all into kung fu? Or wrestling large snakes? Film noir?
Our guitarist, Steve Schmitt, grew up admiring Adrian Belew, Django Reinhardt, Jimmy Page, and dub music. He loves driving, heavy rhythms and natural guitar tones. Our sound is based around his guitar. I'd say we're a perversion and bastardization of Les Paul, the Cramps, samurai-film soundtracks, Angelo Badalamenti, the Shadows, the Pyramids, Italian horror and western film scores. Also surf music.
Have you ever wrestled a large animal? Or taken LSD and wrestled a large animal while thinking you were in a noir samurai film?
No. Well... no.
Your songs peak and valley, climax and recede, and you all are so tight with your changes. I wanted to get you to talk about dynamics. You all do it so well, coming down in those quieter parts. How are you able to do that? Do you rehearse a ton?
Most of the music that influences the Diminished Men isn't rock music, but sounds that are sparse. Folk music, soundtrack orchestrations, incidental film music, and jazz are predominantly written and arranged by composers or musicians who have a great command of timbre and dynamics. Even with a small jazz combo or a chamber quartet you can compress and expand the group in such a way that the music appears to collapse and explode. We are just a three-piece, so we try to implement dynamics in timbre and volume throughout our tunes. Simon and I aren't jazz musicians, per se, but we are heavily influenced by jazz rhythm sections and their ability to constantly adjust themselves to the mood of the tune or how it's being played that evening.
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21. Andy King (Reader, Nyves, Crypts, 18 Eyes, Joe Gregory)
He's the John Bonham of Seattle. Rock-solid power/precision. Deployed twice to Iraq in the infantry as a weapons specialist. Can hit a bull's-eye from 700 yards away, in a snowstorm (for real).
How do you look at the business of drumming?
There are two worlds of drumming: bands I'm in and part of where the creative process is collective, and then there's getting hired to do a record or play a show. For those, you have to stick to your guns and your rate. Communicating beforehand is the biggest part. I don't ever want to surprise anyone with an amount of money they owe me. I've learned you have to be very clear. There can be weird, hurt feelings and awkwardness if things aren't communicated.
Give an example of not getting paid correctly.
I was hired for a tour one time, and when we got back, the band's warehouse had flooded. So I got like a quarter of what I thought I was going to get paid. Sometimes things happen. Getting contracts in writing helps. There's not a lot of money in music anymore, unless you're getting publishing [rights]. Being a part of something for licensing or TV is good. I did some sessions recently for a reality-TV-show soundtrack.
Why do drummers get screwed?
Some people don't see drumming as an art form. They think we're just animals in the back banging on stuff. But if you're committed to your craft, it's way artistic. Listen to a good drummer's note spacing. Listen to them make a beat breathe and then turn it inside out. It all takes years to develop. People may think drummers are replaceable. Those people are mistaken.
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22. Nat Damm (Sandrider, Akimbo)
Damm pulverizes beats out of his drums. Hair is everywhere. Blood is often times spilt. He’s the kind of drummer that brings glory to the volume of true rock. Damm puts together and refinishes his own kit. He’s wise in the ways of drums.
Have you ever vomited while playing live?
No. I've almost passed out, but I've never ralfed from playing.
Does vomiting and playing at the same time interest you?
Oh, I've dreamed of doing it but I don't think it'll happen.
What is your process when you put together and refinish a drum kit?
I bought most of the shells on Ebay. They're cheap, I didn’t pay more than $50 for a shell. I also had to find 52 classic Ludwig lugs as well as the hoops and legs for everything. This latest kit is a 14”x28” 1964 Ludwig marching drum for the kick, a 14”x16” early 60's Ludwig concert tom, and an early 70's Ludwig 18”x20” floor tom. I wanted the shells to match so I took a 1" chisel and stripped them down to the next ply. Then I sanded them down and got rid of the adhesive that held the original wrap coating to the drum. The kick drum originally had bow tie lugs, so I had to fill the holes in and drill new holes for the classic Ludwig lugs that I bought for the kit. After that I carefully drilled the holes for the bass drum legs since it didn't originally have any. I touched up the bearing edges since most of these old shells have been through hell and have all sorts of dings and dents. I bought a crushed glass silver sparkle wrap and put it on using some heavy duty glue and let it set. I let the glue set for a few days and then drilled through from the inside using the holes as a guide. After that all I had to do was put all of the hardware on and tune everything up. It took me a year to find everything but in the end, I had the kit of my dreams for under $1000.
How does it sound?
I'm a huge fan of big drums. I love the way they play and the boom you can get out of them. I don’t use any dampening and I don’t have a hole in the resonant head on my kick drum. You can really crank the heads and still get a big sound out of them without loosing the punch. They just feel great to play.
Why do you go with no hole on the kick drum? Why do some drummers cut a hole out?
I don't like holes in the resonant kick drum head. It bums out a lot of sound engineers because it makes it more difficult to get attack. I believe that can be remedied with tuning though. Hitting a drum that big pushes a lot of air and letting all of that air escape through a hole in the head changes the way the drum feels when played. I like an open sounding kick so I don't use any dampening. Sound engineers will often put a gate on my kick because it resonates so much. I like a bass drum with some booty. Why shove a sleeping bag or a blanket in there? If you have a sweet ass would you spend your life with a giant sweater tied around your waist? No, no you wouldn’t.
What are your favorite kind of drum kits?
Big surprise - I really love playing old Ludwigs. I like the way they sound, the way the feel, and I dig the way the lugs look. I've played Slingerlands and Rogers kits in the past and I really liked them too. The last 3 kits that I've had have been WFL/Ludwigs though.
Who are your favorite drummers?
Well, the classics of course. Bonham, Keith Moon, Bill Ward, Mitch Mitchell. I love Dave Grohl tons, Matt Cameron, Chuck Biscuits rules. Rick from Torche is a fantastic drummer as well as Dale and Coady from Big Business/Melvins. Huge thanks to Matt Chamberlain who hooked me up with some awesome cymbals when I was in a tough spot.
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23. J. Byrum (Black Breath)
You are a dual kick drum drummer. What does having two kick drums enable you to do?
Be more evil? I played a kit with single kick for ten years then realized I needed to play with two kick drums. I think having two independent pedals sounds better than having all the linkage and weird shit that’s on a double kick pedal. I think it’s more authentic, more classic to have two separate kick drums. I try to use the second kick drum sparingly and tastefully. Sometimes metal drummers are too busy with dual kick drums, they can’t keep their foot off that second kick, and it sounds annoying.
Name double kick drummers you study.
Obviously Dave Lombardo, I think he pretty much invented it. Pete Sandoval from Morbid Angel and Terrorizer, he’s a total ripper. Mikkey Dee from Motorhead and King Diamond.
How did you know you needed to play with two kick drums?
I always liked that sound. And liked tons of drummers that played with dual kicks so I decided to go all out and get a new kit with the dual kick set up. It took me some time to hash it out and learn two play, about eight months, but I wanted the dual kicks to be on the album, so I gave myself a little timeline for it. I was sober when I was learning it, so basically the only thing I was doing was practicing and playing drums every day until I got it. I’m getting better at it, still improving. It was basically getting my left foot to not be totally retarded. Now I can play everything with my left foot that I can play with my right, which is something I never thought I’d be able to do.
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24. Steve Smith (Seattle Drum School)
What is the philosophy at Seattle Drum School? "Bonham ALL NIGHT LONG"?
Our philosophy is that if our students have fun, they'll learn.
Walk me through the basics of a music or drum lesson.
Every student has inherent strengths and weaknesses. We first identify those areas, so we can immediately capitalize on their strengths in order to build confidence and enthusiasm, and then we gently begin addressing the weaknesses with exercises and drills that develop awareness and concentration.
How many drum lessons does it take until you can solo like Neil Peart?
Every first drum lesson is different. After an initial evaluation, I have them play their favorite beat, or just play for fun if they're a beginner. I try to identify one or two things to focus on that will ensure that they leave the lesson a noticeably better player than they were when they walked in. I'm a strong advocate of very relaxed technique—loose grip, fluid motion, letting the sticks bounce—and I stress the importance of developing a healthy respect for time and rhythm. This may involve playing a series of sticking patterns or drum-set patterns to a metronome. How someone responds to a specific set of challenges determines the next course of action. I rely a lot on instinct when I teach.
Most of my students don't start soloing like Neil Peart until they're at least halfway through their second lesson [laughs].
Seattle Drum School has a Death Cab for Cutie connection, correct? Can you talk some Death Cab?
Death Cab's drummer, Jason McGerr, had taken lessons from me for a couple of years in the '90s and later began teaching drums here full-time. Death Cab for Cutie had been rehearsing here for a few years—we used to offer rehearsal space for bands—and eventually we hired him. At that time, they were negotiating a record deal with Atlantic and had already achieved a great deal of success and popularity, especially among the younger generation. One day, a 15-year-old student was in our lobby and said, "That band sounds so much like Death Cab for Cutie!" Her instructor said, "That's because it is Death Cab for Cutie!" I think she may have fainted.