“Who is your favourite drummer?”

The question caught me off-guard. I was having a post-game beer with three recreational hockey buddies at Amico’s, a gritty Italian eatery on Queen Street West in Toronto. The joint is known for its delicious $10 pasta specials, pizza, and selection of beverages, as well as for its cast of characters and 4 a.m. closing time.

I had set music aside about five years earlier after my remaining good ear — the left one — went haywire from a condition called Meniere’s disease.  I had stopped listening to music as the distorted sound was too painful, physically and emotionally. I could no longer hear the musical tapestry or pitch of a Beatles’ song, or a big band number.

I had also stopped playing music — no longer hacking around on piano and guitar at home. My drum kit was on permanent loan with the band of a jazz pianist I used to play with occasionally. Playing drums with rock bands, concert bands and a percussion ensemble were distant memories.

But after receiving cochlear implant surgery a couple of years ago in my right ear, and using a conventional hearing aid in my still wonky left ear, the music was slowly coming back.

Steve Smith took this freeze-frame image of my hands playing the snare in the mid-80s. Reflected in the background, some older guy uses his iPhone to recreate the photo. 

So when my friend Joe — the stalwart goalie of our McCormick Arena hockey group — asked about drummers, I had to pause.

“I guess I have to go back a few years,” I told him. “Some of my favourite drummers were not virtuosos — they were part of the sound of some of my favourite bands: The Guess Who, Max Webster, and April Wine.”

Sound and mood

Take Garry Peterson, the drummer for Winnipeg’s The Guess Who. His crisp, cool and economical style was the cornerstone of a mesmerizing sound on songs like “No Time” and “American Woman.” He didn’t get in the way, or take the spotlight in tumultuous solos — he was a key part of a special musical fusion. Same goes for Gary McCracken, the original drummer for Max Webster, an innovative and zany rock band out of Sarnia, Ontario. He had an energetic but fluid style that seemed effortless through mood and time changes on a song like “The Party.”

I was blanking on the name of April Wine’s drummer. My friend Steve, who has an encyclopaedic knowledge of rock, quick thumbs on google search, and a heavy slapshot, came to the rescue: “Jerry Mercer.” Jerry lays down a powerhouse beat on “I like to rock” that is a key part of the musical mix. The YouTube video of that song is heavy, campy and joyous. You can google it.

A drumming showman

I said that I did appreciate one virtuoso — jazz drummer Buddy Rich. I was lucky to see Buddy live several times in Toronto, at Seneca College’s Minkler Auditorium. He was a grouchy taskmaster, slumped over his drum kit, leading a band of hot young players from across the U.S.  He would lay into an opening beat and shout out the score number — sending his bandmates flipping through their musical charts to be ready.

Buddy Rich — in the zone

In his drum solos, Buddy was a showman.  He set musical themes and used contrasting times and volumes to develop them, often with high drama — like when he brought his snare roll to a bare whisper, or used only his cymbals to repeat the theme.  The thing that was obvious about Buddy: musical was a language he learned at a very early age. Through his drum solos, he told stories.

As we chatted over beer and pizza, my friend Dwayne mentioned the modern-day You Tube musical café of rock-soul singer Darryl Hall — he of Hall and Oates fame. Dwayne, who had played high-level hockey in his home province of Saskatchewan, noted that Darryl would team up with musical friends. They were reinterpreting old hits with a mix of new and old talent, including some great drummers and percussionists.

I replied that as my hearing came back I had gotten hooked on YouTube videos where drummers break down classic beats.

Mastering the half-time shuffle

One example is Jeff Porcaro’s half-time shuffle on Toto’s hit, Roseanna. Jeff was in the spotlight as Toto’s drummer and was also a sought-after studio musician.  He invented complex rhythms that came off clean and understated in his performance. His half-time shuffle, which he adapted from other drummers he loved, uses a tricky triplet hand pattern and a hard snare back beat on the third note of a four-four bar. In addition, the bass drum plays a kind of bossa nova syncopation over two bars.

Jeff died young unfortunately, but his inspiration keeps the beat. Many drummers have celebrated Jeff’s half-time shuffle by breaking it down on their YouTube clinics. After watching a few of those videos, my hands and feet were twitching. I realized I could play Jeff’s shuffle in my mind, albeit at a very slow pace.

At our Italian eatery, I could hear my friends better, and even catch the pasta specials when Melissa came by to take our order. (This particular evening was the second last before our ice rink and bar were shuttered for the coronavirus pandemic).

Blazing drum battles

Joe said he had been more into sports than music in his youth but remembered the joy of competitive ballroom dancing to swing music as an adult. Dwayne recalled watching Gene Krupa, another top-class showman drummer of the jazz era, and some of the drummers showcased on Johnny Carson’s late-night show. Carson himself was a decent drummer, but his house band, including drummer Ed Shaughnessy, became an incubator for some great drummer wizardry over the years. Shaughnessy went toe to toe with Buddy Rich, for example, in a blazing duel of drumming talent. Then Buddy took a comfy seat with Johnny to trade jabs about music and life.

One of Steve’s favourite drummers was the late Neil Peart, top-flight drummer of the Canadian progressive rock band, Rush. Neil and his bandmates Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson “had the chops and sounded way bigger than a three-some,” Steve said. Interestingly, one of modern drummer Neil’s big influences was… jazz legend Buddy Rich. When Buddy died, Neil paid tribute in a drum solo channeling Buddy’s style.

Our talk triggered many musical memories. I was starting to listen again, and dream about drumming.