Sympathy for the Drummer; Why Charlie Watts Matters. By Mike Edison

Sympathy for the Drummer, Why Charlie Watts Matters, by Mike Edison explores why the Rolling Stones couldn’t have existed without their publicity-shy drummer, Charlie Watts. Along the way, the author light-heartedly details the importance of all drummers. 

Full disclosure; I’m a drummer, but not much of a Rolling Stones fan. I like a dozen or so of their tunes, stretching across their career, but I don’t really know that much about them. I can name all the current and former members, but that doesn’t make me a fan, I’m just minimally observant of pop-culture over the decades.

Being a drummer, I know a little more about Charlie Watts than the average non Stones fan. I’ve always appreciated his approach to the drum-set. He serves the song first and foremost. I’ve never listened to a Stones track, and thought, “that drum part sucks.” No, Charlie’s loping, about-to-lose-it playing is always just right for the song. He knows when to lay back, and when to step on the gas. He is a master of the magical space between swing and straight time. I’ve been drumming for 50+ years; It’s harder than it sounds. (Anyone who slams Charlie’s playing is showing their ignorance about what makes a great song.)  

But I was ready to learn more.

I enjoyed the book. Quite a bit. Edison -- a drummer himself -- impressively researched the Rolling Stones and their early influences. Charlie and his bandmates were in awe of the early American Blues and R&B scene. I consider myself fairly knowledgeable about rock’s roots, but I still learned a lot.  For example, I did not know about Fred Below, who was the drummer on Chuck Berry’s biggest hits. He also played on many recordings by Muddy Waters, Howling Wolf, Buddy Guy and Jr. Wells. Charlie claimed he owed his living to Fred Below. That’s a drummer worth examining a bit more closely. Even beyond that, Edison makes succinct and wry observations about drummers from Gene Krupa to Dave Grohl. He knows drummers and drumming. The book is a fun romp through the history of the drumset -- from blues through Metal -- and of course, Mr. Watts’ place in that history. 

I knew Charlie was a jazz aficionado, his traditional grip and jazz-sized drum-set telegraph that (Gretsch, no less; a popular brand among classic jazz drummers).  But I didn’t know to what extent. Jazz legend Charlie Parker is one of Charlie’s personal heros. He has released several albums paying homage to his various jazz idols. Nor did I know of his general disdain of the rock ‘n’ roll life-style, despite it being fully embraced by his band-mates. He shies away from the media, and has been married to the same woman since 1964. 

Edison takes aim at the dubious virtue of virtuosity. Charlie Watts is clearly not a technical virtuoso. Despite his admiration for jazz players, Charlie’s technique is minimal, albeit perfect for the Rolling Stones. The author attempts to redefine “virtuosity” as less about technique and more about groove. True, a virtuoso’s main message is often “Look at me!” Conversely, groove-masters say “listen to this music.” That may be true in many cases, but it’s not universal. Under Edison’s new definition, Charlie Watts clearly qualifies as a virtuoso. Even his modest drum-set embraces that concept.  I’m inclined to agree, but it’s a false dichotomy; it’s possible to admire both. But Edison falls hard on the “groove” side. In fairness, a true technical virtuoso will have to master groove to a large degree (think Steve Gadd), yet the opposite isn’t necessarily so (think Ringo, or Watts). 

Which is why Edison repeatedly pokes at Buddy Rich. When writing a book that will be largely read by drummers, it is unwise to slam Buddy Rich, and Edison goes out of his way to take several jabs at him. While I actually agree with his points, doing so doesn’t further his thesis, and only serves to turn off a large number of potential readers. It doesn’t make the book better. 

Not surprisingly, he is also disdainful of “Prog-Rock.” But here, he refrains from naming names (perhaps because many famous Prog-rock drummers are still alive?), yet his point is still made. 

Stylistically, Edison’s prose is Gonzo-esque. A bit too much so.  The over-the-top hyperbolic superlatives wore on me. It worked for Hunter S. Thompson, but with Edison, it comes off as contrived. The rapid-fire colorful analogies are fun at first but slowly turn into groans. (Here’s one that made me laugh out loud, though: “[The drummer] drove that song like it was a stolen car.”) About the 50th time he called musicians “cats,” I started yelling at the book. Even the profanity  got wearisome and felt gratuitous (and I’m no fucking prude). 

All those down-sides are easily outweighed, however, by the entertaining details about Charlie’s playing, his influences, and his band. 

So why does Charlie Watts matter?

• His laid-back grooves provide an unshakeable foundation, which allows room for Mick’s antics.
• His push-pull interaction with Keith Richards gives the Stones their unique feel.
• His modesty (on stage and off, both playing and personality) balances and enhances the brash swagger of Mick and Keith, and is a necessary part of the Rolling Stones’ magic. 
• Watts is an integral part of the equation of a band whose whole is greater than the sum of the parts -- like all great bands. 

Reading the book inspired me to listen to a handful of Rolling Stones records again; it had been a long time. Am I now a bigger Stones fan than before? Well, no. There are many things about them I don’t care for, but the drumming is not among them. I liked the book more than I like the Rolling Stones. Am I now a bigger Charlie Watts fan than before? Very much so.

Rolling Stones fans will get a host of insights into what makes the band tick. Drummers will learn about the evolution of Charlie’s playing and his influences. Everyone will gain a better understanding about the importance of all drummers.

Bottom line: Mike Edison proves that Charlie Watts really does matter. 

But Keith Richards said it best, in just five words: “No Charlie, No Rolling Stones.”