Showing posts with label drums. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drums. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Max Roach-M'Boom

Return to Base (in transit)

Sir,

Conflicts have surrounded this assignment. Namely, the mode of transportation. Yesterday, I flew from Kansas City back to base in Chicago. Today, I have flown from Chicago to Nashville to Austin to Houston and finally arrived in Los Angeles. There was a baby in the airport who I am pretty sure it must have been an op. Or at least a stress test. The continual cries reminded me of tier two training. Maybe it was sent by the agency or by other sources, but I can tell there was something off about the whole thing. Maybe the baby was bugged. Maybe the baby was the bug. I didn’t have time to consider the options and just stepped on it’s head. I didn’t see the wires but I am certain a full body profile scan will reveal abnormal activities. I have collected samples and await the results.

Here

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Baby Dodds-Talking and Drum Solos

I have a weird relationship with drums. They are definitely fun to play, even though I am one of the worst drummers ever. Of course they are necessary (but keep the cymbals in check people), but to listen to tracks of solo drums just didn't sound that exciting at first. Sure, I love albums by Han Bennink, Milford Graves, Sunny Murray, etc, but those aren't things I can listen to all that often. Dodds, however, is able to maintain my interest. I'm not going to air drum along with this or anything (no one should ever air drum to anything (Alex)), but it's still a worthwhile listen if only as an academic exercise. There are some brass band workouts that vary the tone, so don't be afraid. Oh, it should also be mentioned that Dodds is most famous for being the inventor of the kick drum.

Here

Monday, June 28, 2010

Tatsuya Yoshida-Drums, Voices, Keyboards, & Guitar

I think I can argue that Yoshida is the best living drumming. I think I can win that argument. I don't want to fight you or anything, unless, that is you happen to be that stupid fake punk with that ridiculous goatee (instantly lame) and terrible haircut that works down at pleasant street. If that is you then I want to hit you in the mouth with a hammer since you are a dumb motherfucker. Time to grow up you clown. But if you are not that cretin, then I think the album title suggests what you are bound to hear on this disk.

Here