Book Review: Drums & Demons (The Tragic Journey Of Jim Gordon) by Joel Selvin

Pop quiz: what do the following tracks have in common? Beach Boys’ ‘Good Vibrations’, Derek and the Dominos’ ‘Layla’, Steely Dan’s ‘Rikki Don’t Lose That Number’, Frank Zappa’s ‘Apostrophe’, Minnie Riperton’s ‘Inside My Love’, The Incredible Bongo Band’s ‘Apache’ and Carly Simon’s ‘You’re So Vain’.

They all feature drummer/percussionist Jim Gordon, who between the mid-‘60s and mid-‘70s was probably the most recorded and celebrated studio drummer in the world (declaring an interest here too: movingtheriver basically learned how to play drums by copying Gordon’s playing on Steely’s Pretzel Logic).

He brought pinpoint time-keeping, smooth grooves, razor-sharp song sense and technical mastery to the kit, but was also a deeply troubled individual whose schizophrenia – exacerbated by drug and alcohol issues – ultimately led to a tragic and shocking crime. He was incarcerated for murdering his mother on 3 June 1983, and died in prison during 2023.

But how did this good-looking, popular, all-American kid end this way? As experienced rock journo and author of ‘Altamont’, ‘Monterey Pop’ and ‘Sly and the Family Stone: The Oral History’, Joel Selvin is perfectly placed to tell this dark tale, and he honours both Gordon’s victim(s) and the drummer himself with a sober, unflinching account.

With the counsel of Gordon’s friends, family members and associates, Slavin outlines his meteoric rise to the top of the music business, the first half of the book featuring entertaining, detailed accounts of work with various Beatles, the Everly Brothers, Joe Cocker, Frank Zappa, Brian Wilson, Jackson Browne and Carly Simon. (The section on Gordon’s tenure with Eric Clapton is particularly illuminating and shocking – the guitarist does not come out well at all…)

The second half descends into very murky waters. There’s shocking evidence of Gordon’s physical abuse of singer/songwriter Rita Coolidge (and his and Clapton’s refusal to give her songwriter credit for ‘Layla’) and great detail about his struggles to get help for schizophrenia and addiction problems.

In fact ‘Drums & Demons’ is an absolute eye-opener with regard to schizophrenia, the voices inside Gordon’s head (tragically, mostly his mother’s) apparently denying him food, amongst other things, and moderating all aspects of his lifestyle.

And if Selvin never quite technically explains why Gordon was such a drum hero (Jim Keltner, Andy Newmark and Jeff Porcaro were huge fans/advocates), the passion for his subject and respect for the drum community as a whole come through loud and clear.

‘Drums & Demons’ joins Bill Milkowski’s ‘Jaco’ and Rob Chapman’s ‘Syd Barrett: A Very Irregular Head’ in the upper echelons of books about gifted, unwell musicians finding themselves alone when the circus has left town. It also perfectly outlines the boom and bust of the studio session scene.

Although at times a difficult, disturbing read, it’s gripping and slickly-written, and highly recommended.

Book Review: A Platinum Producer’s Life In Music by Ted Templeman (as told to Greg Renoff)

You should never judge a person by their name.

movingtheriver assumed Ted Templeman – a favourite producer back in the day courtesy of his work with Van Halen, Little Feat, Doobie Brothers and more – was your typical seasoned/grizzled rock’n’roll journeyman.

But nothing could be further from the truth. Reading his enjoyable memoir (and looking at the cover), he turns out to be a mild-mannered jazz drumming prodigy turned pretty-boy frontman with late-‘60s baroque pop band Harpers Bizarre.

His story takes us from post-war Santa Cruz, California, to the upper echelons of the US music biz during boom time, when Templeman was a house producer for Warner Bros. (alongside Gary Katz, Michael Omartian, Jay Graydon and Lenny Waronker), becoming one of the wealthiest and best respected record execs of his era.

We learn about his youth studying the Cool School jazzers, then his pop band Harpers Bizarre gets signed by Warners and he’s mentored by Waronker, quickly learning what A&R actually means – choosing the right songs for the artist and assessing their commercial strengths and weaknesses. He also witnesses first-hand the weird action around the Doors, Beach Boys and Phil Spector.

But he quickly realises he’s not cut out for fronting a band, and moves on to being Warner Bros’s tape listener, hanging around Frank Sinatra sessions and getting the nod from Waronker to produce his pet project, the Doobie Brothers.

Then there are some fascinating sections on working with Van Morrison – he sees the frustrations of being a co-producer at first hand when they release the ‘wrong’ mix of ‘Tupelo Honey’. But he also sees Morrison’s more humorous side – during the recording of the live album It’s Too Late To Stop Now, Ted, sitting in the mobile studio outside The Rainbow, hears Van frequently saying, ‘Didja get that, Ted?’ into the mic between songs.

Templeman forges a long-term relationship with his engineer Donn Landee and starts working with Little Feat. He sparks a great friendship with their mainman Lowell George and is fascinated to find that he is a model airplane fan. But when pushed, Lowell claims he’s just learning about them so he he can fly in drugs from Mexico. He also learns a lot about drums working in Sunset Sound studio 1 with Richie Hayward.

Then there’s recording Carly Simon on Another Passenger, and her relationship with James Taylor, before Templeman first comes across Van Halen via a concert in Pasadena. They quickly become his second obsession, though he’s deeply unsure about Dave Lee Roth’s vocals and general attitude (the book is full of strikingly honest reflections, and he’s quick to admit when he’s wrong).

The main chunk of the book deals with recording Van Halen, from the classic debut to the painfully laboured 1984. He even confesses to initial scepticism about ‘Jump’, kvetching to Eddie: ‘I signed a heavy metal band’! But he somehow enlists Eddie to guest on rollerskating freak Nicolette Sheridan’s ‘Can’t Get Away From You’.

Templeman eventually becomes a great fan of Lee Roth, though advises him not to leave Van Halen and try to be a movie star (though still ends up producing Crazy From The Heat). He also worries about getting Sammy Hagar into VH, suggesting they change their name to Van Hagar, and refuses to produce 5150.

There’s an amusing meeting with Prince at Sunset Sound and the Purple One’s reaction to Templeman’s suggestion that Quincy Jones produce Purple Rain. And then there’s Allan Holdsworth, a Warner Bros. signing coming via Eddie Van Halen’s recommendation. Eddie and Templeman are contracted to co-produce Road Games, but Holdsworth refuses to allow them in the studio together while he’s recording! A baffled Eddie bows out, and then Holdsworth demands that a few tracks feature vocals against Templeman’s best advice (of course Allan has his own take on the Road Games debacle…).

The mild-mannered Michael McDonald is a regular character in the book, uncharacteristically going ballistic for not getting co-writing credit for Van Halen’s ‘I’ll Wait’. We learn about Aerosmith drummer Joey Kramer’s opinion of Templeman’s work on their comeback album Done With Mirrors, and Eric Clapton’s reaction to being told that his guitar tone sucks.

The last section of the book regards Templeman’s work on the ‘Wayne’s World’ soundtrack and then losing his job at Warners, leading to depression and alcoholism.

It’s one of those rare music books that takes you right into the process of trying to get quality, commercial performances from some of the biggest stars in the music business, and it’s full of good advice about producing/arranging and interesting musical/technical observations.

Sadly though, its message may fall on deaf ears these days when Pro Tools and bedroom recordings are all the rage, musicianship less so, but still it’s a fun, informative look at the peak of the studio scene. Highly recommended.

David Sanborn: Hideaway

It’s no coincidence that alto saxist/composer David Sanborn’s purple patch (1980-1982) came about just when genres (yacht rock, soul, funk, jazz, R’n’B) were breaking down to create one of the most egalitarian musical eras.

Hideaway, his fifth studio album, was the breakthrough, and I love it. Released in February 1980, it made #2 on the Jazz chart, hung around in the Urban Contemporary charts for over a year and was nominated for a Best R&B Instrumental Performance Grammy.

For some, Sanborn’s solo material will always be ‘smooth jazz’, but I’d point to four aspects of his music that elevate it above similar material, particularly on Hideaway – his tone and his note choices, both born of the ‘50s and ‘60s St. Louis jazz and R’n’B scenes; his writing; and also the playing of top-notch guests. On Hideaway, the stars are drummer Steve Gadd (Gadd fans, this is the album for you), bassist Neil Jason and keyboard player Don Grolnick.

The title track remains a classic. Sanborn lays down rich Fender Rhodes soul chords while Gadd constructs a perfectly judged post-disco drum part heavily involving cross-stick and floor tom, laying just behind the beat, with an unexpected, explosive fill just before the fade. Jason is given free rein and comes up with an outrageous bass performance.

Hideaway also benefits from Steely/Doobies man Michael McDonald co-writing two tracks. Sanborn doesn’t have anything much catchier than ‘Anything You Want’ and ‘Again An Again’ in his repertoire. ‘Carly’s Song’ and ‘Lisa’ are memorable ballads with beguiling harmony, while Gadd provides another brilliant commentary on ‘If You Would Be Mine’.

Rick Marotta appears to expertly marshal ‘Creeper’ through its slow half-time groove – guitarist and frequent Sanborn collaborator Hiram Bullock was so taken with it he later wrote a sequel called ‘Son Of Creeper’.

Hideaway’s packaging helps too – its minimalist cover is a winner, as is the photo featuring Dave reclining in his apartment with a Magritte over his left shoulder and paramour draped over his right. Warner Bros. were just realising he wasn’t the worst looking guy in the world.

The only downside: in a classic bit of Warners penny-pinching, they add the very dull (and certifiably smooth-jazz) ‘The Seduction’ from the ‘American Gigolo’ soundtrack to the streaming and CD versions but in the process edit down ‘Anything You Want’ and the title track to ‘single’ length. Best try to find Hideaway on vinyl.