Time, Gentlemen, Please!

I suppose it's inevitable I have to write something about drummers and drumming, given the news that the great Charlie Watts has died, aged 80. Much has been written about his signature, sparse style of playing, which allowed the rest of the band space in which to play: enough rhythmic information to propel a tune without overcrowding it: essential particularly in the days of 7" single records aimed at the radio and the domestic record-players of the sixties and early seventies.

Listening to drummers talking about other drummers is always instructive to the lay-person or musicians who inhabit the melodic/harmonic worlds, rather than the rhythmic: the mantra is always that someone has 'time' or just not. Charlie Watts had it in spades, despite the apparent simplicity of his approach to the Stone's backdrop, along with - in the old days - Bill Wyman's equally spare bass lines; time. The swing's the thing: not being quite in the centre of the beat like a metronome - the back-beat just slightly, crucially behind to give the rhythm impetus - the tell-tale trait of a drummer steeped in jazz.

Ginger Baker had it too - another former jazzer, as did so many others who crossed over to rock and fusion. As much as I loved his style, Keith Moon was simply Keith Moon: Pete Townsend always observed that Mooney followed the vocal line: Entwhistle provided the time on bass. Whereas John Bonham was a busy-styled rock drummer who had 'time': check out the drop into the chorus riff of 'Moby Dick' on 'Led Zeppelin II' after his extended drum solo for proof.

But of all of them, the stand-out is Mr. Watts, as reserved and gentlemanly in life as he was was behind the drum kit, simply carrying out that apparently simple, but oh, so difficult task of guiding a band forward without actually seeming so to do. A mark of genius.