Ginger Baker
Ginger Baker was rock's first superstar drummer and the most
influential percussionist of the 1960s. There were other drummers
who were well-known to the public before him, including the
Beatles' Ringo Starr and, in England at the end of the 1950s, the
Shadows' Tony Meehan, but they were famous primarily for the
groups in which they played and for attributes beyond their
musicianship. Baker made his name entirely on his playing,
initially as showcased in Cream, but far transcending even that
trio's relatively brief existence. Though he only cut top-selling
records for a period of about three years at the end of the 1960s,
virtually every drummer of every heavy metal band that has
followed since that time has sought to emulate some aspect of
Baker's playing.
He was born Peter Edward Baker in Lewisham, London, in 1939. The
nickname "Ginger" came along later, a result of his red
hair. As a boy, Baker had a special interest in bicycle racing,
but by his mid-teens, his interests had switched to music,
especially percussion. A rebel even at that age, he became devoted
to modern art and contemporary jazz, transforming himself into
something of a beatnik during the mid- to late '50s. A natural
musician, he talked himself into his first professional gig when
he was 16 and was on the road that year, working full-time.
Baker's idol during the late '50s was Phil Seaman, a jazz drummer
who was probably the best percussion player in England; his own
playing tended toward an aggressiveness and articulation that were
unusual in juxtaposition with each other.
By the end of the 1950s, Baker had passed through several of what
were known in England as trad jazz bands -- "trad" was
the English designation given to what Americans and the rest of
the world know as Dixieland jazz. It was the dominant form of
popular jazz in England from the mid-'50s onward and it provided
employment. He'd been a member of Terry Lightfoot's and Acker
Bilk's bands, but the fit was an awkward one, owing to the passion
that Baker often displayed in his work and his own, personally
outspoken nature. Instead, he turned toward the budding British
blues scene coalescing around the work of Alexis Korner and Cyril
Davies -- less bound in tradition and built largely around younger
players, this music was growing and being played in a much more
open environment.
In 1962, on the recommendation of Charlie Watts, Baker was
selected as the latter's replacement in Blues Incorporated, the
band started by Korner and Davies. It was here that Baker first
crossed paths with two musicians -- saxman and organist Graham
Bond and bassist Jack Bruce -- that were to play a key role in his
professional career. Their work with Blues Incorporated was
successful enough, but it was while the two were playing with a
side group, the Johnny Birch Octet, that they began jamming with
saxophonist Dick Heckstall-Smith (another Blues Incorporated
alumnus) and began getting a very positive response from the
crowds. It was out of those jams that Baker, Bond, Bruce, and
(joining a little later) Heckstall-Smith formed the Graham Bond
Organization in 1963, the former three quitting Korner's group all
at once. The Graham Bond Organisation was never as popular as such
Blues Incorporated offshoots as the Rolling Stones or the Small
Faces, being more jazz-oriented in their approach to R&B, and,
thus, a little too complex to find a huge audience, but they were
successful and respected on stage; Baker's reputation among blues
aficionados and more scholarly British rock listeners can be
traced to his work with the group. Their recordings, however --
with the obvious exception of the Klooks Kleek concert album --
were never as exciting as their live performances.
Its name aside, Ginger Baker was the de facto leader of the Graham
Bond Organization. Bond himself was temperamentally unsuited to a
leadership role, a condition made worse by the spells of substance
abuse and addiction that blighted his life. The Bond group also
hooked Baker up in the same rhythm section with Jack Bruce for an
extended period of time, and few relationships between constant
bandmates -- with the exception of siblings Jimmy and Tommy
Dorsey's efforts at working together in the early '30s -- have
been so tumultuous and productive. The two genuinely hated each
other on a personal level, and stories of each wrecking (or trying
to wreck) the other's instruments and attacking each other on
stage abound. Still, the group's sound was extraordinary, a
jazz-based R&B built around four powerful players, each
displaying varying degrees of virtuosity and assertiveness that
was quite daringly complex. And their manager, Robert Stigwood,
saw them all as talents worth keeping an eye on in the future.
Baker eventually fired Bruce, who jumped to John Mayall's
Bluesbreakers, which, fatefully, allowed him to cross paths with
Eric Clapton for a short time, and then to Manfred Mann, as well
as doing session work that even had him playing on records by the
Hollies. By early 1966, the Graham Bond Organization had run its
commercial course (though it was still sufficiently viable to turn
up on a poster outside of the club that David Hemmings' character
enters in Blow Up), and Baker was searching for a new gig.
He'd observed John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers in action and
had known lead guitarist Eric Clapton for a couple of years,
having jammed with him once in 1964 as part of the Graham Bond
Organization, and approached him initially to write together and
perhaps form a group. Baker had, in effect, been running the
Graham Bond Organization while Clapton had emerged in Mayall's
group so far into the spotlight that he'd eclipsed Mayall
himself; they discovered that they were in exactly the same place.
The great irony was that Clapton,
impressed with Bruce's musicianship in both the Bluesbreakers and
a short-lived group called Eric Clapton & the Powerhouse,
insisted that the bassist come aboard as the third member of the
trio. Baker
agreed, somewhat reluctantly, acknowledging Bruce's daunting
musical ability and willing to overlook their past animosities.
The proposed trio, christened Cream,
was signed up by Reaction Records, a record label founded by
Robert Stigwood, who had been the manager of the Graham Bond
Organization, knew of Baker's
and Bruce's virtuosity intimately, and was equally impressed by Clapton
and as eager as any executive in England to get the three together
and see what would happen.
What happened initially was "Wrapping Paper," a
pop-style single released in late 1966 that didn't impress too
many people -- although even there, one could hear a swing element
to the group's sound, reminiscent of '40s jazz, that showed off
one (albeit minor) component of what went into their sound. Baker
was barely audible in the mix, though what one could hear of the
drumming did have a signature of sorts, a loose, jazzy element
that was unusual. Within the next year, the band would become a
chart-topping act and then a cultural phenomenon, however, and at
its core was Baker.
He and Bruce continued to argue without let-up while Clapton
mediated and refereed, and on their records everyone got to shine,
but Baker's
playing was special even in that context -- on "Rollin' &
Tumblin'," a Muddy
Waters blues standard that the trio took into the stratosphere
from the first note, Baker's
playing sounded like it was on another planet, matching Clapton's
rapid-fire quoting of the main riff and Bruce's frenzied singing
and quietly overpowering the listener; his playing on "I'm So
Glad," by contrast, had a lyrical, almost melodic quality,
like a veiled orchestral accompaniment to the bass and guitar --
he kept a beat, but his drumming also played the kind of role that
a harpsichord continuo played in Baroque music. And then there was
"Toad," in its original studio version, an offshoot of
several pieces dating back to the Graham
Bond days that featured Baker
in a solo; here, as on "Oh Baby" from the first Graham
Bond album, Baker
made his drum kit sing.
In concert, the piece would become the basis for a ten-minute drum
solo that was no less impressive. The trio's live sound was, alas,
limited somewhat by the technology of the day, especially when
they become too popular to play small clubs (which was very
early), but Baker
set a new standard for playing on record, and at those shows, that
every drummer with more than an ounce of ambition sought to
emulate. A lot of critics in later years also felt that Baker
also had a lot to answer for -- that the 15-minute live version of
"Toad," 13 minutes of which was Baker
solo, opened the way to gargantuan drum solos by the metal bands
that came up after Cream,
culminating with the infamous (and extremely funny) drum solo
interlude in the movie This Is Spinal Tap. Baker
can hardly be faulted, however, for the excesses of those who
followed after him -- his studio work with Cream,
and at least the live material that was authorized for release,
never showed him playing lengthy solos for their own sake but
rather depicted a drummer coaxing beautiful voices out of his
instrument. The mere fact that he could do it for ten minutes or
more at a stretch was impressive, to say the least.
Cream
made (and still generates) a huge amount of money, but couldn't
last long with the egos involved -- in just over two years, they
were history. It turned Baker
into a permanent superstar, however. Such was his influence that
he was able to turn young admirers of his playing onto older
drummers such as Gene
Krupa and Buddy
Rich, whose careers dated to the 1930s and 1940s,
respectively. For a time at the end of the 1960s, teenagers who
hadn't even been born when Krupa
retired the last of his big bands were seeking out the drummer's
work, all based on Baker's
professed admiration for him.
What followed next for Baker
was Blind
Faith, one of the most celebrated still-born bands in history
-- many millions of records sold, and millions of dollars earned,
despite their having only about an eight-song repertory of their
own. Initially planned as a linkup between Clapton
and singer/guitarist/keyboard player Steve
Winwood, Baker
came along and cashed in Clapton's
promise to include him in his next project and the resulting
business and publicity frenzy pushed the band too far, too
quickly. In seven months they were gone, but out of the ashes of Blind
Faith rose the group eventually known as Ginger Baker's Air
Force. Ironically, Air Force's history was an exact reversal of
that of Blind
Faith -- initially put together for two live gigs in England,
the group suddenly found its life extended to a tour and a second
album; in contrast to Blind
Faith, however, whose hype had merely reflected an expectant
audience eager to see a band made up of two superstars (Clapton
and Baker)
and one star (Winwood),
Air Force's hype was the product of promoters desperately hoping
that it would be another Blind
Faith.
The group, which included Baker's
mentor Phil
Seaman and his old bandmate Graham
Bond, was much too eclectic ever to have achieved the kind of
popularity that Cream
or Blind
Faith had enjoyed, embracing jazz, traditional African music,
blues, folk, and rock. The ten-piece band lasted less than a year
before breaking up, leaving behind a genuinely fascinating and
exciting live album and an interesting studio LP (both combined on
the Ginger
Baker double-CD set Do What You Like. In 1971, Baker
decided to indulge his longtime fascination with African music
first-hand and moved to Nigeria, where he built the first modern
recording studio in western Africa. Over the next three years, he
worked with a huge range of acts, including Fela and Paul
McCartney's Wings, as well as recording the solo album Stratavarious
-- he ultimately lost the studio and most of his money (and has
claimed that McCartney stiffed him for the use of the studio in
the recording of Band on the Run).
During 1974, Baker
formed the Baker-Gurvitz Army Band with guitarist Adrian
Gurvitz and bassist Paul Gurvitz, which made an initial splash
in America before fading out commercially over the next three
years. From the late '70s until the mid-'80s, he re-emerged with
bassist/guitarist Bill
Laswell on the album Horses
& Trees. By that time, a new generation of star drummers
had emerged, most notably Carl
Palmer of Emerson,
Lake & Palmer and Bill
Bruford of Yes
and King
Crimson, but Baker's
reputation, thanks to the continued catalog sales of Cream's
work, continued to resonate with fans and casual listeners. Over
the next few years, Baker
reappeared through various projects, including Ginger Baker's
African Force and Middle
Passage, that freely mixed African and Western musical
influences. And in 1991, Baker
surprised all onlookers with the release of Unseen
Rain, a free-form instrumental album done almost entirely on
acoustic instruments. Finally, in 1994, he returned to Atlantic
Records -- which had been the U.S. outlet for Cream's
recordings -- and to what he realized were his jazz roots with the
triumphant Going
Back Home, which featured the Ginger Baker Trio. Baker
has hooked up with jazz trumpeter Ron
Miles on Coward of the County, a hugely successful showcase
for his jazz side and also includes a tribute to the late Cyril
Davies, the British blues enthusiast who co-founded Blues
Incorporated in the early '60s.
Ginger
Baker, like his ex-bandmates, has seen fit since the 1970s to
keep the legacy of Cream
at arm's length or further -- the trio's induction into the Rock
& Roll Hall of Fame reportedly did little to change his
feelings, and he is also said to be astonished at the emergence of
Eric
Clapton to mega-stardom during the 1990s. Despite some of the
financial and other troubles that have dogged him since the 1960s,
he has been content to go his own way musically for the benefit of
any who care to hear. By Bruce Eder,The
All Music Guide
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