In 1984, just as Reagan started losing his mind, I started learning how to beat the tar out of the drums.
Mr. Albright was my first conductor, and I remember having to choose between playing the trumpet or the drums — Mr. A needed someone to fill out his brass sections, but for reasons I can’t explain, I desperately wanted to play the skins. In fifth grade, I played drum-set on our very fifth grade version of Phil Collins’ very forgettable song, “Sussudio” (this, of course, implies that there’s a memorable Phil Collins tune). A decade of lessons followed, and when I turned 23 these skills were finally put to a good use: rock and freaking roll, baby.
Jack Diesel, my first outfit, played it loud and sloppy, sloppy and oh so loud, and to me, it was glorious. My skill set (or lack there of) fit in perfectly with my partners in musical crime. Five other bands followed — alt. country to experimental. Right now, I’m between bands, pining for another chance to teach my drums a lesson. To me, there was always something spiritual about knocking something inanimate senseless and having other people call it music. Like most of my fellow percussionists, Buddy Rich wasn’t so much a god to me as much as he was Moses, leading me through the desert of orchestral numbers with better triangle parts than snare. He gave me hope. He gave me rage made magnificently incarnate.
So, now that I’ve got a forum, and now that I’ve got your attention, please, for your sake more than mine, check this sucker out:
This is what I think of when I watch Rich: I’m watching the best there simply ever was and, most likely, ever will be. The greatest. And the thing is, you can tell, if you watch enough of him play, that he never even reached his zenith–if it weren’t for time, he could have shattered any expectations, blown away any imagination. What he does seems physically impossible.
Ed Shaughnessy, another drummer, is absolutely, mind-bogglingly great. But in this video, Rich kind of puts him to shame (Ed can’t keep up by the end):
All this, plus Rich was a black belt! And he went 250 grand in the red (in 1946!) to keep his band up and running! And he had multiple heart attacks and was told to stop playing and refused to! And he played on the Muppet Show! And then, my friends, there’s this next clip. I don’t just love it because I watched it 1,000 times when I was a kid, or because sweat pour from Rich’s face, or because he’s wearing a damned suit, or because his playing gives me chills. No, I love it because John Williams (the John Williams) looks over at him, utterly awed. Enjoy:
