What would you do to have legendary jazz drummer Elvin Jones go through step by step, how he creates his drum solos? Turns out all you have to do is watch this video of him in the late 70’s explaining his process. It’s an incredibly insightful look into one of the most original and powerful forces to have ever played music.
buddy rich took the metropolitan experience and applied it to a jazz jam on “machine”
one of my favorite songs i’ve been listening to a lot lately is buddy rich’s “machine” - and one reason i like it so much is that it feels very much reflective of my time spent in the city this summer. the horns sound like gershwin of manhattan, the drums are driving and aggressive in that classic buddy style, and the bass ascends and descends so intentionally and functionally, like a staircase in motion. it’s movement encapsulated, yet defined by this slickness and richness that can only remind me of city life.
i love when the horns pick up an urgent tone halfway through the song, and i love how that moment immediately transitions into a noodling sax solo that plays back and forth, back and forth.
but most of all, i love buddy’s climax to madness at the end as he forces himself to drives opposite to the rhythm that he’s built in order to increase the number of beats per minute by any means necessary. he ends in the only way he knows how - a beautiful fill that’s supported by those damn horns that seem to go “ta da!” “ta da!” before the song is neatly tossed away.
buddy has plenty of songs that are similar in nature, but none that sound as essential. and while buddy can have a bad habit of increasing pace out of sheer will rather than by design, the time out version of “machine” sped up is somehow even more thrilling than the studio version. the audience whoops and hollers at the end of this live version. it’s hard not to share this euphoria.
brown hues saturate interior – a permanent instagram filter. Chat surrounds, chocolate brownie beckons behind spotless glass, my name is called, hazelnut hot chocolate is ready. Up the curving flight to the landing of plush armchairs and free wifi. Burnt yellow lighting is cast not far from heads, drawing a hidden ceiling seemingly close. Beyond the machine grind, jazz filters through to the ears as generic cafe art is passed by the eye. A sip, a sigh of release, a Starbucks coffee to catch your breath.