The Funky Drummer (Part III)

"The name of this tune is 'The Funky Drummer'" I told my son as we left the parking lot of Target. He came with me to pick up a few needed items for dinner that night, mainly because he was driving his Mother crazy at home, the result of some serious cabin fever for both of our children because of the never-ending winter we seem to be experiencing this year in the Midwest.

I pushed play and James Brown began to count off the song, a seven-minute long classic that would easily make its way into my "greatest songs of all time" list, if I ever thought I could compile one. The only reason "The Funky Drummer" made its way into the stereo of our minivan this evening was because I thought it would be perfectly timed from our journey from Target to back home, hopefully ending with Brown's naming ceremony at the end of the song as soon as we pulled into our driveway.

My son tolerates such impromptu music lessons, because if I don't occasionally target a few of these acknowledged classics for him, his musical knowledge would be dictated by the playlist of our city's Top 40 station, and influence he listens to nearly every night when he goes to bed.

I suppose I did the same thing at his age, but my upbringing was a lot more musically adventurous that what he currently displays. He loves music to some extent and even sings in his school's chorus, but there is little evidence that he has the same passion for music that his father has, and every now and then some tutoring is needed.

"This is one of the most sampled songs in history." I explained, immediately remembering that he probably has no idea what sampling is. The explanation is going nowhere, but then he asks something that hints at being remotely interested in what I'm telling him.

"When was this song recorded?" he asks.

"1969." I answer affirmatively.

"No it wasn't!" He corrects, even though I know he has no idea what the hell he's talking about. I take my Rock & Roll history somewhat seriously, primarily out of necessity of self-preservation rather than attempting to be a trivia snob trying to assert authority. Considering this, I retort with the commanding "E, you don't know anything about James Brown, so how do you think you know when 'The Funky Drummer' was recorded?"

I swear to God, this is how I interact with my son. With that being said, his historical knowledge of professional wrestling is impressive. He even reminded me once that Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka may have killed his girlfriend in 1983.

"James Brown?" replies my son. "I thought you were talking about Chris Brown!"

It's true: "The Funky Drummer" will turn 45 this year, and the drum break that inspired Mr. Brown's last minute song title has been the foundation for untold numbers of rap and R&B tracks during the last three decades, continues to inspire countless artists and listeners with its infectious beat.

If sheet music exists for "The Funky Drummer," it probably only takes a page. The basic pattern of the song would run a full measure before the instruction on the next measure read "Vamp til ready" and then ended.

Each member of The James Brown Orchestra gets a nod, punctuated by Brown's own verbal observations and direction. He enthusiastically yells "Bring on the juice!" before saxophonist St. Clair Pinckney starts his solo. When Pinckney gets near the end of his spot, Brown affirms "Still good!" allowing the horn player to blow for a few more measures. When things really begin to cook, it prompts a few "Good God!" and "I got to holler!" a few times throughout the rest of the song's seven minutes.

By the fifth minute of the track, we had pulled on to the last street leading to our home. There was no way that I would disrespect the Godfather of Soul by ending "The Funky Drummer" early, particularly if it's because of my inaccurate travel time calculations.

We would simply drive around the block.

This of course led to the inevitable chorus of "Are we going around the block?" and "Why are we going around the block?" almost overshadowing Brown's notice of what his band was up to.

"Fellas! One more time. I want to give the drummer some of this funky soul here." James interrupts. "You don't have to do no soloin' brother. Just keep what you got!" he instructs the man keeping such an impeccable ass-shaking groove. Clyde Stubblefield probably made $40 for his work on November 20th, 1969, possibly earning enough for a decent Thanksgiving meal for his family. I'll leave it to you to ponder if this is sufficient compensation for a drum pattern that ended up being used on million sellers and providing other artists with much more financial security.

"Don't turn it loose...'cause it's a mother!" James advises Stubblefield, before telling the rest of the band, "When I count to four I want everybody to lay out and let the drummer go. When I count to four I want you to come back in."

And just like that, Stubblefield is left alone with his spontaneous spark of genius. For eight full bars, Clyde delivers his groundbreaking drum pattern unaccompanied, becoming the focal point and namesake of the song itself.

By the time Brown counts off the second time, we've made our way around the block and I hit the garage door opener to the faded refrains of "The funky drummer...The funky drummer" "So! Wasn't that one of the best songs you ever heard in your entire life?" I ask my son as we slow into the garage, sure of what the answer will be.

"It was OK." he responds, completely lacking anything resembling enthusiasm.

He's on his way inside while I stay seated, jaw dropped that he didn't have the same kind of visceral reaction that I did when I first heard "The Funky Drummer."

"Cut off the lights." I mutter to myself as I kill the headlamps on the minivan.

 "And call the law."

The Bakers Dozen Greatest Rock Drummers Of All Time

For no apparent reason, here’s a Glam-Racket's Bakers Dozen of the Greatest Rock Drummers Ever. The list is non-negotiable and, as always, if you have differing opinions you are completely wrong and should be embarrassed that you’re reaching for the comment button to add your own two cents.

1. Keith Moon
   Essentially, a kid with ADHD that thankfully found the perfect position for him (on the drum throne) and who thankfully didn’t listen to anyone who advised him that a drummer is merely a timekeeper. If you watch Moon’s kits develop over the years, they just kept getting bigger and bigger. And in typical Keith Moon fashion, he played the piss out of every new tom, snare, or cymbal he added.


2. John Bonham
   Like Moon, Bonham didn’t seem to play with much regard for traditional technique. Instead of laying down a backbone with the bassist, Bonham seemed to follow Jimmy Page’s guitar work, thereby creating this most awesome groove that was completely unique. Thousands have tried to imitate him, but very few “get” some of the clever nuances in his performance, even down to the squeaky pedals.
3. Neil Peart
   Every fucking drummer in my high school band would have gladly sucked the dick of Neil Peart just to be able to play with a quarter of the man’s ability. Positive: He can play the piss out of the drums. Negative: His virtuosity sometimes negates any hint of improvisational skills. Positive: He’s a master of technique. Negative: Technique doesn’t necessarily give you soul. But whatever, the dude is awesome and he gets bonus points for being the greatest living drummer in the world and still taking lessons from another teacher to avoid getting comfortable with his own drumming.
4. Clyde Stubblefield
   Get’s a little higher nod than fellow James Brown alumni John “Jabo” Starks because Stubblefield laid down the most sampled drum lick in history, “Funky Drummer.” For that song along, a syncopated, lock groove that is funk, this motherfucker shouldn’t have to work a day in his life again. Yet he still does, weekly in Wisconsin and he continues to follow Brown’s advice: “Don’t turn it loose…Cuz it’s a mother!” For all you white folks, this is what’s referred to as playing “in the pocket.”
5. John “Jabo” Starks
   Here’s a guy that can give you a boner just by playing his kit. Yes, the man who’s responsible for propelling “Sex Machine,” “Super Bad,” and a host of other songs that make your penis erect, is good enough to not be “rock” drummer, yet still manage to be in this Baker’s Dozen list.
6. Phil Rudd
   When you listen to AC/DC, what do you think of? Angus Young’s guitar solos? Brother Malcolm’s punch rhythm licks? Brian Johnson’s “I’m being dry-anal-raped” vocal stylings? I think of those too, but I also think, “My God, that drummer is so fucking subtle that it’s brilliant. Robert “Mutt” Lange is notorious for having bands, particularly drummers, re-record their shit until it’s perfect. For the making of Back In Black, Rudd used no click tracks and typically nailed his part on the first take, causing Lange to work with Bryan Adams.
7. Stewart Copeland
   Lightning fast on those fucking hi-hats to the point that whenever I try to emulate his technique, I look like a retarded kid banging on a timpani with a dust broom. He amazes me at his ability to go from soft and restrained rhythms to powerful cracks in mere seconds. I totally expected Copeland to be a big star after the police, but the names Oysterhead and Animal Logic don’t seem to be household names, do they?
8. Cozy Powell
   Cozy’s been described as having a “wet” drum sound, which translated means, “Let’s make the drums really booming.” Powell’s a highly sought after session player that’s done time with Robert Plant, Michael Schenker, Rainbow and even E.L.P., which required them to change their name (briefly) to Emerson Lake and Powell. Regardless of that questionable decision (working with Emerson and Lake, that is) he’s still one of my favorites.
9. Charlie Watts
   Old Mr. Reliable. Seriously, can you imagine one single Rolling Stones song without Charlie behind it? A jazzman who understood that there’s little money to be made in actually playing jazz and ended up being the timekeeper (emphasize keeping time) for the greatest rock and roll band in the world.
10. Ringo Starr
    Ringo likes to remind everyone that he’s the best drummer in the world. We all smile politely, nod, and secretly say under our breath “Dude, you were the drummer for the best band in the world…Big difference.” Or is there? Ringo may have a point; like Watts, can you imagine a single Beatles song if it were backed by anyone other than Ringo? There’s a good chance it might really suck, and to that point, Richard Starkey may be right.
11. Tommy Aldridge
    Fucking dude can play. I’d never really listened to Black Oak Arkansas before, but then I saw the video below and was blown away at how good they were, particularly the drummer. He may have been (like Cozy Powell) too good for his own good as Aldridge always seems to be jumping from gig to gig with total disregard for the notion that the guy probably needs to settle down with a band and develop a legion of followers like Neil Peart has.


12. Kenny Arnoff
    I want to know how many snare drums this guy has broken in his career. With every “snap” of that thing, I start to feel sorry for it. And then I think of all the trees that Arnoff must have demolished just to replace those sticks that he’s gotta be running through. Bald and relatively ugly, Arnoff is best know for his session work, starting with a great run during John Cougar Mellencamp’s mid-80’s run. That’s right, I said John Cougar Mellencamp.
13. Terry Bozzio
    Has Frank Zappa ever hired a shitty musician? I’m not that big of a Zappa fan, so I will let those that are answer that. But from what I’ve heard, Bozzio’s got the goods. I’m lying somewhat, because when Missing Persons started and I saw the video for “Words” I declared “Hey, that’s the drummer for Frank Zappa!” immediately after saying, “Hey, that lead singer’s got some nice breasts.”

Honorable Mentions:

• Ian Paice (Deep Purple)
• Moe Tucker (Velvet Underground)
• Scott Travis (Judas Priest)
• Damon Che (Don Caballero)
• Mitch Mitchell (Jami Hendrix)
• Ginger Baker (Cream)
• Marky Ramone (Ramones)
• Topper Headon (The Clash)
• Bill Ward (Black Sabbath)
• Steve Shelley (Sonic Youth)
• Dave Groh (Nirvana)
• Alan “Reni” Wren (Stone Roses)
• David Robinson (The Cars)

Dishonorable Mentions
(revered drummers that I’m not particularly impressed with)

1. Mike Portnoy (Dream Theatre)
2. Peter Criss (Kiss)
3. John Densmore (The Doors)
4. Alex Van Halen (Van Halen)
5. Carl Palmer (Emerson, Lake, & Palmer)
6. Travis Barker (Blink 182)
7. Nick Mason (Pink Floyd)
8. Vinnie Paul (Pantera)
9. Carter Beauford (Dave Mathews Band)
10. Jimmy Chamberlain (Smashing Pumpkins)
11. Matt Sorum (Guns ‘n Roses)
12. Chris Slade (AC/DC)
13. Mick Shrimpton (Spinal Tap)