Drummers You Just Can’t Beat: # 28 – Billy Cobham
Drummers You Just Can’t Beat is an occasional series here at Off The Tracks— and now also part of “Sounds Good!”
Billy Cobham, who turned 80 this year, is The Drummer of Fusion. Overall, it’s a genre that largely leaves me cold, but when it’s done right, it can be extraordinary. Billy Cobham is an extraordinary drummer.
I think I probably first heard him on Miles Davis’ Tribute To Jack Johnson — one of my favourites from the Miles “funk” period. Cobham was there on some of the sessions for Bitches Brew, and on Live Evil and other documents of that time (Big Fun) and then he really became known through his association with John McLaughlin (presumably they met on Miles sessions) and the band the Mahavishnu Orchestra, who, alongside Return To Forever, really made fusion the thing that it was across the 1970s.
I bought The Best of Billy Cobham — after hearing some of his Mahavishnu and Miles work. This single-disc compilation really gives you his absolute very best. It’s an album I adore to this day.
Reconnecting With Billy Cobham: His Best Solo Works
There are a small handful of astonishing tracks — Stratus obviously, the slink of Red Baron, then sheer mindfuck dizzy-busy-ness of Quadrant 4, and yeah, there were players like Lenny White and Alphonse Mouzon also pushing it hard, but no one really comes close to what Cobham was doing, combining the jazz-thinking and skill of Max Roach with the power and assault of those key 60s/70s rock players. He is almost the Jazz John Bonham. Or the Funk Buddy Rich. But there’s also an ability to sit back so deep inside the groove for long periods before he starts firing shots and digging in deep with the chops.
One of the best examples of his influence is the early playing by Phil Collins. His first Genesis and Brand X drumming recalls the power, groove and soul of Cobham at his finest. You’ll hear Cobham’s technical perfection in the playing of Bill Bruford (King Crimson) and Danny Carey (Tool) also.
And that is the huge legacy that Cobham has and holds — this enduring influence. Well, that and the monster playing he offered the world. Such an influence on so many great modern players. A guy who actually changed the game. Like Stewart Copeland, like Steve Gadd, like Chris Dave more recently, someone who helped invent new pathways.
It’s staggering and can obviously be too much at times — but like Buddy Rich when it comes to big band playing, it is also utterly undeniable. Cobham’s playing is dynamic, explosive, mechanical, dextrous, creative, propulsive, engaging, and then on top of all of those very human, relatable and emotional qualities it is simply head-scratchingly otherworldly. Part human, part octopus. Part robot, part deep-soul.
You can hear him on a variety of records with everyone from George Benson to members of the Grateful Dead. You might want to hear him when he jammed with James Brown and you must hear his work with Miles and Mahavishnu; not all of it is listener-friendly (at least not straight away) and that of course is a huge part of its power, and its magic.
Cobham is up there on the Mount Rushmore of 70s drummers. And his contributions to drumming, to fusion, and therefore to music in general deserve every accolade and all of the attention he’s had. And probably a bit more beside. Only when we get to memorialising him will we understand the true level of his impact and influence.
