The Pulse of the Skins: The Art of Drumming
Through the practice of rituals and customs, non-Western cultures have defined the drum as the centerpiece of their music. For centuries, Kurdish and Persian art music has used the daf to accompany both classical and popular music throughout Iran. In Senegal, the deep, rich sound of the bougarabou can be heard for miles among the Jola people. For others, the drum has signified more than just a musical source and foundation.
The Japanese used taiko, the “great drum,” as a warfare device to motivate the troops, set the marching pace, and call out orders. Originating from Macedonia, the deep sound of the wooden tapan established its presence in war ceremonies and marches during the reign of Alexander the Great. Brazil offers a collection of cylindrical hand-drums, including the tan-tan and surdo, which create the atmosphere for small samba and pagoda ensembles. Taking on different shapes and sizes, the drum has held a prestigious place and meaning in all forms of early cultural and tribal music.
Across the Atlantic Ocean, the assemblage of the first drum sets in the late 1800s enabled a single person to simultaneously play the basic percussion instruments formerly used in American military bands. Positioning the snare drum, bass drum, and cymbals all within the reach of an arm or leg, the drum kit soon became an integral component for composing music, specifically ragtime, rhythm-and-blues, and country, at the turn of the century.
During the late 1920s, the drum kit evolved into the comprehensive percussion tool as jazz musicians began to take the stage in nightclubs throughout New Orleans. In its most fundamental setup, the drum set, or trap set of earlier generations, includes a bass drum, a snare drum, two tom-toms, a hi-hat cymbal, a ride cymbal, and a crash cymbal. However, many drum configurations have expanded further with the advancements in technology over the last century.
Today, many drum kits incorporate an array of Turkish and Chinese cymbals, African tom-toms, and piccolo snare drums-each providing its own unique flavor and tone to the drum line. Other percussion instruments, such as cowbells, woodblocks, timbales, gongs, and chimes, have been added to complement the sound of the acoustic drums. Long after American jazz drummer Louis Belson popularized the use of two bass drums in the 1950s, rock and heavy metal drummers have continued to adopt this technique in order to create poly-rhythmic beats with exceptional speed.
Since the 1980s, electronic drum machines have become a common item for keeping time, producing synthesized and sequenced percussion with just the press of a button. In the last several years, Simmons, Yamaha, Roland, and other drum manufacturers have invented electronic-MIDI drum sets featuring pads or triggers to mimic sampled sounds and beats. With these recent discoveries in the music industry, the exact collection of drums now varies from one drummer to the next. In a similar fashion, each drummer arranges the drums according to a particular musical style while also considering his own preferences. For this reason, each drum set possesses its own flare and mystique.
In its purest form, drumming can best be explained through an abstract expressionist painting of time and space. While the metronome or click track provides a sense of time, relying on technology can only serve a drummer for so long. Ideally, every drummer should individually develop a pulse-an instinctive sense of time in relation to the tune. This pulse always dictates the downbeat, but in between the accented punches, the drummer has some leeway to add subtle nuances to the groove. These open spaces in the beat grant the drummer the freedom to pull out his bag of tricks before returning to the snare on two and four. Playing on the ride cymbal or rolling on the snare, the drum line speaks in poetic undertones. Therefore, the beat is always taking on new shapes, incorporating multiple variations within it: an open note on the hi-hat, a ghost note on the snare, or a cymbal crash at the end of a bar.
The best drumming emerges when the brain extracts the least amount of thought. A clear head becomes a prerequisite for playing any form of percussion: drum set, timpani, vibes or djembe. But like any athlete standing in the batter’s box or on the free-throw line, drummers do not think about what they are going to play or what their next move may be. They already feel it. Drummers do not have time to think and play because thought clouds creative action. Instead, they allow the music to move them in unforeseen directions, leaving them to decipher their own role in the composition. Drummers let themselves become absorbed in the music before reacting to it in their own individualized style. With every cymbal crash or triplet across the drum kit, an emotional rollercoaster unfolds in greater detail.
The countless hours rehearsing the twenty-six rudiments on the practice pad unconsciously transfers to the drum set in a split second. Accomplished drummers can quickly notice when an amateur steps behind the drum kit and has to think about his first move. The pulse is not there. In this sense, the true essence of drums exposes individuals to vulnerable and unpredictable positions. Playing the drums in itself is truly a musical trance-an adventurous, enlightening experience loaded with a galaxy of unexpected twists and turns. Yet these moments of spontaneity inadvertently produce the most innovative and inspiring arrangements. What makes drums so special is the unknown-the ability for the rhythm to start in one place and unpredictably progress into a different realm over the course of time.
In any musical genre, the drum part must eventually come to an end. The drummer many times will not remember exactly what he just played; drummers often have short-term memories. But each drummer senses the point in time when the drum piece has spiraled out to the last few bars of the melody. At this moment, the man behind the drum kit must choose an ending to his chaotic, yet elegant story. The drummer can catch his listener off guard with a sudden flam on the snare or instead gracefully fade out with light touches on the cymbals and hi-hat. An audacious drummer might do justice to the piece by cranking out one last intricate pattern across the drum kit and finishing with an overwhelming crash on the cymbals. These concluding notes speak loudly of a drummer: his style, sensitivity to the subject, dexterity, and overall expertise in handling the drumstick. In this respect, the ending of a drum line can justifiably define a drummer’s worth. Fitting this last bit of rhythmic chaos within the ever-important parameters of time ultimately distinguishes natural drummers from the ordinary and mechanical.
In 1937, Buddy Rich stepped onto stage with Joe Marsala, went behind his standard four-piece custom set, and climbed the ladder as the world’s greatest drummer. A career that spanned seven decades, Rich was America’s ultimate jazz drummer through his work in big band and bebop. His snare drum slanted down away from him, he perfected the snare roll without every sitting down for a lesson or practice session in the studio. For Rich, everything had to be perfect-the sound, the set-up, and especially those playing along with him. No one has come closer to technical mastery of the drums. His left hand constantly at work, Rich characterized his playing with passionate fills and tasteful musicality. “B,” as they called him in his professional career, had complete control of the swing pattern, captivating jazz listeners and drum enthusiasts in every powerful stroke that struck the drumhead. He did not need a massive drum set to develop his style or trumpets and clarinets to complement his sound. Rich was the music, and everyone understood the power of his presence. No other drummer possessed the leadership and charisma that could spark a band in the same manner.
By the age of four, Rich’s natural sense of time had already propelled him into the public spotlight as a seasoned solo performer on Broadway. Like many of today’s glamorous pop singers, Rich gained recognition in the American mainstream not only as a famed drummer and bandleader but also as a musical icon of the jazz era. His appearances in several motion pictures, on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, and on the Dick Cavett Show revealed such prominence, setting him high above any of his predecessors. His private life was representative of his drum work-a lively display of imagination and humor all wrapped up into one long, fantastic drum solo. Some denounced his arrogance and overbearing temperament. Others, however, respected his honesty, the care and sensitivity that he had for the state of music and the art of drumming. But when Rich came to the end of the road on April 2, 1987, the jazz world and drumming community had lost one of its most prized and talented members in the history of music.
The emergence of Buddy Rich into the jazz scene during the late 1930s paved the way for other drummers to establish their own eminence among American audiences. Beginning his musical career in the church as a pianist, Art Blakey moved on to the drums, where he would later revitalize the post-World War II bop style of Charlie Parker. Working with trumpet prodigy Wynton Marsalis, Blakey disregarded the early development of the avant-garde and experimental jazz movement. The conductor and leader of his Jazz Messengers behind the drum kit, he played time to the blow of trumpets and saxophones while standup bass and piano held the melody together. Blakey took charge of the drums, demanding attention with his thunderous drum rolls and passionate, yet driving rhythm on the hi-hat. An innovator with his heavy use of cymbals and bass and snare drum accents, Blakey expanded the sound of the drum set, placing his elbows on the head of the drum to alter its pitch. He demonstrated impeccable timing in his swinging, tapping on the ride cymbal with speed and fluidity so that every note could be distinctively heard.
Still, Blakey never lost sight of the music. Unlike his counterparts in Gene Krupa and Buddy Rich, the Pittsburgh native relied on his seventeen sidemen to compose the song and round out the overall sound of the band. He did not flaunt his natural abilities, believing that a jazz group embodied a cohesive, interconnected unit playing together rather than individually. With a career dedicated to recreating the hard “bop” sound, Blakey’s attention to the swing captured listeners for more than six decades, transforming post-War jazz into a form of classical American music. While the messenger can no longer treat us to his lively beat, his commitment to the music continues to resonate with jazz musicians, contemporary drummers, and those who were fortunate enough to hear him play.
In the 1960s, a new avenue in drumming formed as the classical jazz traditions of Rich and Krupa began to converge with the growing popularity of rock n’ roll that was developing simultaneously. In addition to this cross-mixing of jazz and rock, experimental drummers became inspired by other cultural influences from the Caribbean, South America, and India while reshaping the ideology of the U.S. beat. Thus, the evolution of fusion exploded into the music industry and with it came one of history’s most influential and polished drummers. A byproduct of the big band and bebop generations, Billy Cobham played with the power of a rock drummer and the precision of a traditional jazz timekeeper. His semi-circular drum set, which featured two large bass drums and an array of tom-toms and crash cymbals, provided the perfect setting for him to showcase his powerful, virtuosic chops that would eventually take drumming to new heights. Cobham invented a style and form that shed new light on the world of jazz music. Incorporating the Electronic Drum Controller into his repertoire, he offered a new perspective to the field of jazz drumming at a time when Max Roach, Tony Williams, and other like-minded drummers were also abandoning the earlier conventions of the genre.
While Cobham’s experimental work does not often earn the respect of preceding drum players, professional drummers today often point to him as a drum pioneer. Hovering over the drum kit, Cobham told stories with his fast, yet graceful single-stroke fills, moving from the first to the last tom in just seconds. His arms whirling through the air, Cobham struck the drumhead ferociously as if he were just another John Bonham or Neil Peart. But these legendary English rock drummers did not share the same wit and ingenuity even with their marginally flamboyant and gaudy chops. Cobham was different. Disciplined and mature in his approach, he responded to the music. He did not overplay, staying in the pocket while transitioning from one odd time signature to another. Starting in 5/4 and shifting to 7/8, Cobham never lost track of the downbeat, remembering that the groove stands as the primary function of the drummer. Cobham was more than just a performer-a mentor for modern-day rock, jazz, and fusion players, his highly-technical licks were really just icing on the cake.
With the innovations of Blakey and Cobham pushing drums in new directions, the art of drumming continues to progress in the twenty-first century. Influenced by these creative, imaginative jazz and fusion players, John Blackwell Jr. has recently soared to the top of the drumming world with his tight beats, intricate chops, and remarkable showmanship. A graduate of the renowned Berklee College of Music in Boston, Blackwell can hold an audience’s attention with his popping, funky snare and singing, melodic rolls on the tom-toms. Representing a new generation of funk drummers, Blackwell has graced the cover of numerous drum publications with his astounding technique and crisp timekeeping. Today, Blackwell frequently travels the world, showcasing his creativity and attention to detail at major drum festivals with his fusion band, Matrix. While Blackwell is most admired for his spectacular, ambidextrous drum fills and cross-arm strokes, his ability to stay in the pocket has awarded him the opportunity to work in the recording studio with such R&B greats as Patti LaBelle and Prince. Using right-hand rolls on the snare drum and open notes on the hi-hat, he can quickly turn a backbeat around on his custom Tama Star Classic drum kit. The Jia Chinese cymbal suspended above Blackwell’s head barks out a raw and trashy sound, adding funky accents to his fluid style. Whether kicking out a triplet pattern on the bass drum or twirling his drumsticks like nun chucks, Blackwell consistently remains true to the groove. Thus, even as Blackwell continues to search for deeper pockets and new patterns around the drum set, his power, diligence, and unique approach inspires drummers of all ages and styles.
In the mind of a drummer, complacency does not exist. The drummer always has more outlets to explore, from discovering another poly-rhythmic pattern on the floor toms to learning a sixteenth-note feel on the bass drum. There is no question that performing such patterns naturally places immeasurable strain on the human body. Yet it is their own mental inefficiencies within the beat that drummers struggle to control. This internal complication forces drummers to formulate decisions in a timely manner-when to hold back, when to drive the music and when to not play at all. Few have truly been able to accomplish such a feat in a particular space in music. That is why only the work of the greatest drummers can deliver a chilling sensation down the spine.
