“Mistakes and miss takes”

This is for Matt, fan of The Jezabels and all-around nice guy, who challenged me to pick up on something at the start of ‘Hurt me’. Is there or is there not a weird stroke in there, and if so is it intentional?

The first sound I hear from the drumkit is a kind of scrape, either the hi-hat getting into position or a stick brushing against a drum head as it’s being picked up. Add that to the off-beat opening rhythm, and yes there is a sort of suggestion of a faltering step.

Is it intentional? All I can say is even if it throws you out by a fraction, I don’t think it hurts the song. You get the same sense of almost-faltering later on, coming out of the confident, filled out rhythm in the chorus into a sparser and more uneven beat. It’s very effective. Reminds me of coming out of a party that has become too overwhelming, and stumbling distractedly down the stairs outside.

But this got me thinking about the value of mistakes and glitches. Artists of all kinds include deliberate mistakes in their work, and for all kinds of reasons. Islamic artists included imperfections as a way of affirming that only Allah is perfect. Navajos included a point of imperfection in a woven rug as a doorway to let spirits move in and out.

Imperfections have their place in music too. Interpretation is all about connecting with the human element, which is why sometimes it’s a disadvantage to be far too clinical and perfect. (No, this does not mean stop practicing.)

A classic example is ‘Discipline’ by Nine Inch Nails. There’s a false start at the beginning that sounds ridiculous, but according to Trent Reznor the song seemed somehow lacking when they took it out. Leaving it in was a stroke of genius; it’s the main reason I listen to that track. And considering the song’s theme, it’s pretty appropriate.

So do mistakes, deliberate or otherwise, make music more human or more divine? Possibly. If they’re done just right.

“Express yourself”  - part two (click to see part one)

Expression of emotion through the drum kit: 

‘No shelter’ by Rage Against The Machine. RATM live and breathe passion, and here the wild messy cymbals and marching beat mirror the breathless urgency of the vocals.

‘The man is dead’ by The Jezabels. A feeling of intense desperation, heightened by percussive dynamics. 

‘Closer’ by Nine Inch Nails. Never, in the field of human conflict, has so much attitude been expressed by so few instruments …

‘Lodum’ by Ghoul. The exotic touch in the percussion takes the emotion from mere contemplative musing to something far more inscrutable and intriguing.

‘Covered in punks blood’ by Desert Sessions. Edgy, combatative drum beats.

“For the voiceless”

Musical brilliance aside, there’s no denying that The Jezabels have a special attraction for anyone who feels more than they are able to put into words. When this band play live there’s a strong emotional connection with the crowd. You can see it on all those faces - an overwhelming relief that someone, finally, has found a door to release some of the inner maelstrom. Someone has constructed a bridge sufficiently fine and subtle to reach into those deepest feelings, and start to let them out.

And a major architect of this intangible construction is the drummer, Nik Kaloper. He’s responsible for his fair share of the shivers their music produces. Nik believes music is first and foremost a tool for communication, and he most certainly lives up to that. He puts so much feeling into his playing. It’s not just creating atmosphere - there’s a sense of having a conversation, of immediacy and directness. He plays as though he’s reaching out, wanting to speak, wanting you to get the message. Takes an exceptionally fine drummer to play as expressively as he does. Nik Kaloper also has one of the most expressive drum kits ever assembled. You can hear how much attention was paid to choosing the voice of each and every drum and cymbal.

‘Endless summer’ by The Jezabels.

“Palette elements”  - part two (click to see part one)

 Experts in the  art of the space between drums … 

‘Hurt me’ by the Jezabels. If drums were paint, Nik Kaloper would be Monet. He blends the elements together so beautifully.  

‘Heaven coming down’ by the Tea Party. I was lucky enough to see them live in their early days of musical exploration, before they became mainstream. This still sounds good though.

‘Something’ by The Beatles. Forever easy on the ear. Although the cymbals suffer a little in those old recordings.

‘I can’t’ by Radiohead. These guys understand music just a little bit.

 

“A higher state of awareness”  - part two  (click to see part one)

More on famous and influential drummers later. These tracks are to show how having the drums as the musical focus can lift a song out of the ordinary …

 ‘Save me’ by the Tea Party. Majestic.

‘Mace spray’ by The Jezabels. Moody and thunderous.

Slow divers’ by Jane’s Addiction. Laid-back and intimate, like a campfire at the beach.

‘Percussion gun’ by White Rabbit. Military detail used to embellish not just drive the beat.

‘Emperor’s new clothes’ by Sinead O’Connor. The drums and guitars swap their usual roles.

‘Jesus Christ Pose’ by Soundgarden. Nailed.

And if you don’t believe there’s a dimension-distorting Escher equivalent in the drumming world, listen to ‘Schism’ by Tool and tell me what time signature / plane of reality it’s in. The rhythmic patterns are fascinating enough by themselves, but they also perfectly describe the physics of a communication breakdown - all those waves of emotion that radiate out from people, interacting and confounding and deflecting back again.