Let There be Drums…

Ten years ago this month, recording started on ‘Songs From the Last Chance Saloon'. Here’s a blog I wrote at the time…

Day 1 of recording for

Song From the Last Chance Saloon January 2014

There are many, many drummer jokes. I have told some of them myself; sometimes, when I should have kept them to myself. I was once interviewing the legendary guitar amplifier designer, Jim Marshall, and I asked him how as an electronics expert he connected with the likes of Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix when finding out what they wanted from his creations. “I’m a musician, too,” he said, proudly. “I’m a drummer.” I smiled and said: “A drummer? You mean someone who hangs out with musicians?” The boffin’s face did not crack a smile, and I could feel my face getting warmer than the valves in one of his 400 watt heads turned up to 11. The interview went downhill from there.

The truth is, I have the utmost respect for the art of drumming. It’s the heartbeat of any band. If you haven’t got a great drummer, you can’t have a great band. In my career, I have been lucky to play with some great drummers. In fact, I only play with great drummers. Great drummers make the bass player’s job easy (and in some cases, make them sound better than they really are – but we won’t dwell on that!). It is also vitally important that the bass player and drummer connect with each other but I’ll talk about that in a blog about recording the bass parts. 

So what makes a drummer, great? For me, it can be summed up in one word – feel. To my mind, all great drummers, no matter what genre of music they play, they all have great feel, or in the case of those who have gone to the great gig in the sky (Krupa, Rich, Moon, Bonham, Hayward etc) had great feel. So much so that, when you hear them play, you can’t help but move your body. Even the very flash ones –underneath all that technical brilliance (Cobham et al) – was the ability to groove. Here’s the thing, though – I don’t think you can teach groove. You can teach someone to play the drums but they either can or can’t groove. It’s innate.

I was once at a sound check in a venue, listening as the drummer was just keeping time on bass drum, hi-hat and snare. I noticed that all of the crew, from the roadies to the light riggers, were jigging to the beat that was coming out of the speakers. He wasn’t playing anything complicated – it was just the way he played it.

Pictured right: 90s rockers The Tin Soldiers

Tim Bye, Tony James Shevlin and Mike Casswell

So, I suppose I should name check my favourite drummers. The usual names, of course: John Bohham and Keith Moon. The name Jim Keltner kept appearing in the sleeve notes of albums in my record collection playing with George Harrison, John Lennon, Ry Cooder and John Hiatt. As much as I loved Lowell George’s slide playing, it was Richie Hayward’s drumming that turned me on to Little Feat. I’ve also liked everything I ever heard session maestro Steve Gadd play on; likewise, Jim Hodder of Steely Dan and Toto’s Jeff Porcaro. Then there are the not so famous session drummers like Jerry Carrigan, Roger Hawkins and Freeman Brown who as part of the “Fame Gang” and the “Swampers” down in Muscle Shoals, Alabama played on some of the greatest soul and R&B classics of all time such as When a Man Loves a Woman, Mustang Sally, RESPECT and I Just Wanna Make Love to You.

And I think Ringo’s great, too. I’ll just let that hang in the air for a moment… Ringo is always given a bad press. People quote John Lennnon, when asked if Ringo was the greatest drummer in the world, as replying: “He’s not even the best drummer in the Beatles.” Except that, according to author and music historian, Mark Lewisohn, he didn’t say that. Ever! Yet the quote seems to have become fact. But think about it, can you name a Beatles track where the drumming is bad? Don’t forget, the Beatles sacked their original drummer and drafted in Ringo. On songs such as Ticket to Ride, he broke new ground, and on songs such as I Me Mine, he showed he could effortlessly change the time signature and go from a straight beat to a shuffle feel mid-song – not an easy thing to do. But most of all, when I listen to Ringo, I hear him playing what the song needs. 

Pictured left: Drummer Tim Bye

 

I first met Tim Bye when he was Saturday boy at a music shop where I worked part-time in a suburb of London. He used to turn up at my band’s gigs and help with setting up and breaking down the gear. He was a polite kid who didn’t think that he knew it all, already. He listened, and was willing to learn. And for those reasons, we didn’t mind that we had to go out of our way to give him a lift home. Within a couple of years he was my go-to drummer, and with guitar maestro, Mike Casswell, we formed a powerful rock trio - The Tin Soldiers.

In the 18 years since we last played together, Tim has gone from strength to strength. As a member of the British band UnAmerican, he was signed to Universal records in the US, recording two albums in Memphis, and touring the States with The Who. He has just finished a tour of Australia with Spandau Ballet’s Tony Hadley and the South Bank Sinfonia Orchestra, and is currently filling the drum stool in the British singer-songwriter, Jon Allen’s Band.

Tim agreed to play drums on my album. The only trouble was, due to his busy schedule, we didn’t get to play the songs until the recording session itself. An hour before we went to the studio, I played him a CD or some basic home recordings of the songs, which contained a vocal and an acoustic guitar; I played along on bass. He listened, asked some questions and made some notes. Then we went to the studio.

Pictured left: Producer and Engineer Ian Crow

After introducing Tim to Ian the engineer, he set up his kit; in a way that drummers always do, he told me all about the kit - what kind of wood it was, what the fittings were. I feigned interest but in truth, I’d drifted off like when people talk seriously to Homer Simpson. I think it might have been a Yamaha vintage kit, made to an old recipe but with modern yada yada yada.

Ian and I did raise our eyebrows when Tim adjusted the tension on his bass drum using a bit of tech kit that looked like it came straight out of MI6 Q Branch. Ian placed a series of microphones around the kit, mumbled stuff about phasing and EQ; stood back, looked at them from several angles, and then moved them around. Once again, I nodded sagely, saying hmmm and furrowing my brow until he looked sufficiently happy.

Tim played the kit. Ian brought up some faders on the mixing desk, preparing to adjust the equalisation. And then he stopped. “Er, that’s it,” he said. “That’s the sound.” And he was right. The kit sounded fantastic. 

We elected not to use a click track to keep us in time. It wasn’t that we couldn’t play along to a metronome, but that we were confident in our own abilities and that we wouldn’t speed up or slow down as we played. 

The first song we recorded was Faith in Myself. It’s a dark, brooding song with the verses in a minor key and the chorus in a major key. We ran through it, and Tim made a note of the song structure, where the stops were, and where his playing would need a little light and shade to suit the mood of the song. We went for a take. It felt good; I noticed that Tim had followed the vocal line at times with his drum fills and had increased volume (crescendo) during a solo section in the middle, and when the vocal became more intense towards the end. Tim came out of the drum booth and into the control room to listen to the take. The standard procedure is to listen, point out what needs changing and go in and play the song again. We listened all the way through. I thought it was great. I started to doubt myself; had I been listening properly? I asked Ian to play it again. No, my ears were not deceiving me, it was great. It was what we call “a keeper”. First take, too.

Seven more tracks were recorded, and several of them were first takes. Tim just nailed what I wanted - and what the songs needed. Champagne Taste on a Lemonade Pay was an old song that Tim remembered from when he used to come and watch my band play. I was revisiting it because I was never quite happy with the recording we had of it. I was after what I can only describe as a “JJ Cale” feel. Tim said he’s always heard it that way, too, and we quickly knocked that one out of the park.

Crazy needed a New Orleans-style, sloppy feel, using brushes instead of drumsticks. Most attempts at this over the years had either sounded too jazzy or too polite. Tim gave it a sway and a louche looseness that felt like the whole thing would fall apart at any moment – it was perfect!

The eight songs were recorded in four hours. That might sound like a long time to non-musicians or those musicians who are not familiar with the recording process, but believe me - that is fast! With stopping and starting, listening through, changing parts, rehearsing, recording a couple of takes - and tea-breaks – the time soon goes. We even had time for Tim to add percussion to several songs. All these were first takes, too.

It was a fantastic start to what I hope will be a run of great sessions. I can’t wait to add bass and guitars.

Tim is an exceptional musician. Working with great musicians makes you raise your own game. Tim said it didn’t feel like we hadn’t played together for 18 years, which I’ll take as a compliment. I was lucky that a musician as in-demand as he is, could find the time to play on my album; and that he said he’d be honoured to play on it, too. I was thankful that I was nice to that kid who worked on Saturdays in the music shop all those years ago. It was definitely karma, even if it wasn’t instant.

Songs From the Last Chance Saloon is available to download or as a CD from https://tonyjamesshevlin.bandcamp.com/

Stephen Foster's Saturday Music Mix

When local gig impresario Stephen Foster invited me to play at a festival being held in the centre of my home town of Ipswich, I jumped at the chance. Much as I love playing solo shows with my trusty Martin acoustic, it felt great to pick up my Fender Jazz bass and play with my band The Chancers. 

Here are some photos from the day, courtesy of Steve Armes

Mr. Johnny Miller rocking out on his new Fender Telecaster