Wednesday, May 4, 2022

Harvey Kubernik Salutes Drummer Jim Keltner on His 80th Birthday

Jim Keltner can probably best be described as a "drummer's drummer."  

Having performed on solo albums with both John Lennon and George Harrison ... and drummer alongside Ringo Starr at any number of live events ... not to mention sitting in with the likes of everyone from Bob Dylan to Joe Cocker to Gary Lewis and the Playboys to The Band ... Keltner has carved out a legacy career for himself as a key player in the history of rock and roll ... but far too often as a faceless, behind-the-scenes entity, preferring instead NOT to seek out the limelight but rather let his drumming abilities speak for themselves.

Our FH Buddy Harvey Kubernik put this piece together in honor of Keltner's 80th Birthday this past April 27th ... and we are happy to share it with our Forgotten Hits Readers today.  (kk)

 

My dear friend drummer / percussionist Jim Keltner celebrates his 80th birthday today. I don't think people realize how many of our favorite recordings he has played on the last 60 years.

  

I first met him in 1970 at Lucy's El Adobe Cafe in Hollywood after seeing him 

drum with Joe Cocker, Leon Russell and Mad Dogs & Englishmen.  I must have interviewed him three dozen times since 1979 for articles and a slew of my books. I've always been grateful for his support of my literary work and very thankful for his music and recording business navigation tips and nutritional guidance. I've been cataloging my archive and pulled out some of our interviews. If you dig The Band, Gary Lewis & the Playboys, Delaney, Bonnie and Friends, John Lennon, George Harrison, Bob Dylan, Phil Spector and Leonard Cohen, check out some of our dialogues. 

 

 

Gary Lewis was studying acting at the Pasadena Playhouse and on his lunch hours he would come into the music store I was working at, Berry and Grassmueck.  One day, he asked me if I would give him drum lessons. After a few lessons, he told me he going to go up front with the guitar and I want you to be my drummer.’ I went from $85.00 a week to $250.00 a week. A big jump. More than triple. One of the first things I did was go down to Felix Chevrolet on Figeroua near the L.A. Coliseum and buy a ’65 Daytona blue Corvette Sting Ray.

 

I joined Gary Lewis and the Playboys after ‘This Diamond Ring’ put them on the map. I played on the next single and album and then did a couple of tours. We did the ‘Hullabaloo’ TV show. We played Hawaii, we did ‘Shivaree.’ We did a KRLA banquet on December 8th of 1965. And we did Las Vegas, Oakland, ‘9th Street West’ on KHJ. We did ‘American Bandstand’ with Dick Clark and a Coca-Cola commercial. We did ‘Where The Action Is,” and a couple of beach movies.

 

Until Gary Lewis, I had been pretty much playing jazz. I was playing at Sherry’s on the Strip, a night club on Sunset Boulevard with Don Randi. Snuff Garrett from Liberty Records made me shave my mustache and get a professional haircut.  Then he took me to meet Leon Russell at the studio. Leon was from Tulsa, and I loved that, because that’s where I was born. I didn’t realize I would be following in the footsteps of the great session studio drummers  Earl Palmer, Hal Blaine and Jim Gordon.

 

Leon Russell was the first record producer and arranger I ever worked with.  I was very fortunate to have him as the first producer I came in contact with because Leon always had a slightly different musical angle that he came from. I think Leon was always looking for something a little bit out of the box. I didn’t know that at the time. Hal Blaine was there, by the way. And I thought he was there to play tambourine. But in actual fact, Hal was there just in case I couldn’t cut it. (laughs). I was coming from Don Randi, six nights a week playing at Sherry’s. And I thought I was on top of the world with that gig. It was the closest thing to jazz that I could get. Not hardcore jazz, but jazz enough to make me have a great time and feel like I was really playing.  

 

At the beginning of the Gary Lewis ‘Just My Style’ recording session, Leon said, ‘Don’t play any fills. Not even one fill.’ And I understood that instinctively. I thought, ‘This is the way rock ‘n’ roll singles are made.’ He asked for a fill just at the beginning. And I did it.

 

Then he said, ‘Can you do that backwards?’ And, I thought, ‘Oh yeah. I can do that. That’s cool.’ So I played the fill backwards and opened the hi hat in the intro. He liked that a lot. So right away we made a connection there. During the playback he turned to me and said, ‘You’re gonna be a great rock drummer.’ And I remember at that moment I felt a real confidence. Right around that time I had begun to realize that playing rock ‘n’ roll was not just for morons. You really had to know what you’re doing.  

 

I always marveled at how Hal (Blaine) and Earl (Palmer) could do it so easily. It never occurred to me that I wouldn’t be able to do that. And then when you are confronted with it, you realize it is not for the faint of heart.

 

I came from the jazz world. I came up at a time when, as Charles Lloyd says, ‘Giants roamed the earth.’ And bassist Albert Stinson, my best friend, was already one of those giants, barely out of his teens. I learned so many things from Albert. Way too much to talk about and how he affected my life. I used to hang on every word. The first of several geniuses who I was so fortunate to have in my lifetime.          

In spring and summer of 1968, I was playing with the Charlie Smalls Trio. Charlie sang and played piano, and he wrote ‘The Wiz’ a few years later. Wilton Felder was the bass player and we had two great girl singers. We worked the Daisy Club in Beverly Hills several times. We were scheduled to play the night Robert F. Kennedy was shot. Kennedy was coming to the Daisy that night for his victory party.

 

At some point, I noticed our band break was taking too long. I asked Wilton, who was sitting in the back reading his bible, what he thought was going on? ‘How come we’re not playing? He said, ‘I don’t know. Everyone is up in the coat room.’ They were gathered watching a little television. Someone came out and said, ‘It’s over for tonight. Bobby Kennedy has been shot" … I don’t remember anything else after that.

 

The very next day they talked about Sirhan B. Sirhan, and his address in the Altadena-Pasadena area was in the newspaper. He lived nearby. Two streets down. I called out to my wife Cynthia, ‘Hey, the guy who killed Kennedy lived on Howard Street.’ And then in an article they mentioned he worked as a box boy at Weidner’s health food store on Lake Street. And I’m going, ‘What? I used to stumble  over him on weekends as he was bent down stocking the shelves in the little aisles.  It bowled me over. What kind of weird coincidence is that? I’m supposed to play for Bobby Kennedy that night and the guy who is the box boy at my health food store takes him out!

 

In October of 1968, I got a call to sub for Jimmy Karstein at Snoopy’s Opera House, a little club in the valley, with Delaney and Bonnie. At the time I was recording with Gabor Szabo and playing gigs with him at places like Shelly’s Manne-Hole in Hollywood and The Light House in Hermosa Beach. Then in February ’69, they asked me to do Delaney and Bonnie’s ‘Accept No Substitute’ album at Elektra.

 

Leon played piano on everything but ‘When This Battle Is Over,” which was Dr. John, Mac Rebbenack. It was a song Mac wrote with Jesse Hill. There was a fusion of the Southern people beginning to play with the Hollywood cats. Everyone at the time was being influenced by that scene. George Harrison loved the Delaney and Bonnie LP when he heard an advance acetate of it and tried to get it on Apple Records. Delaney and Bonnie had tremendous magic and chemistry. I was playing with Delaney and Bonnie at Thee Experience club on Sunset and Jimi Hendrix came in two different nights to jam with us. 

 

Then, in 1970, a bunch of us did Joe Cocker Mad Dogs and Englishmen. Jimmy Gordon and I played drums together. It was a very strong band and the record that came out was very successful. 

 

By that time, I had played with Leon quite a lot and knew his style. It was real easy to play with Leon in those days. He played very percussive, and with an amazing gospel feel. In 1972, we did Leon’s big hit, ‘Tight Rope,’ from his ‘Carny’ album.

 

Around that same period I played on Dave Mason’s ‘Alone Together’ LP on Blue Thumb Records. The producer was Tommy Li Puma. I always loved Dave’s playing and singing. I also really liked the way Jim Capaldi played with Dave in Traffic. Jimmy Gordon played on ‘Only You Know and I Know’ and interestingly, I had played on Delaney and Bonnie’s version earlier.  On ‘World In Changes,’ I got to play my ride cymbal that I had just bought from Pro Drum Shop on Vine. It was a cracked K. Zildjian that Tony Williams had traded in for a new one while he was in town with Miles Davis earlier.      

 

Carl Radle, Jesse Ed Davis and I had recorded some Dylan tunes with Leon as  the Tulsa Tops, which we did at Leon’s home studio in North Hollywood. ‘A Hard Rain Is Gonna Fall’ is my favorite. Later, while I was living in London, Leon called me and asked if I could come to New York to record with Dylan. We did ‘Watching the River Flow’ and ‘When I Paint My Masterpiece’ on March 17th, 1971. A couple of years later, I played with Bob on his recording of “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door’ that we did on the big sound stage at Warner Bros in Burbank. Roger McGuinn played pump organ on that session and to this day I cry when I hear Bob’s version. It’s been covered so many times, but Bob’s is the only one that gets to me.

 

In 1971, I did the ‘Bangla Desh’ studio single with George Harrison and Phil Spector at Wally Heider’s Studio 4 in Hollywood and that August we all did the two Bangla Desh shows in New York. And it spawned a great live album set that George and Phil put together.

 

To me, music from that era, from everywhere was special. Don’t forget, it was very early on. The Beatles had just changed everything, The Rolling Stones were starting to change things, and English rock started to have a big effect on American rock ‘n’ roll, even though they were taking cues from our roots music. And it was right at the beginning of the FM thing. FM became very popular, and there were albums to be played instead of just singles. So a whole lot of things started changing.

 

The music, which was now being written more by the artists instead of outside writers, really began to resonate with the people. That period is genuinely thought of as an unusually fertile time for great songwriting.  

 

Jim Keltner and Harvey Kubernik Interview on The Band June, 2017

 

I met the Band through my dear friend and the amazing bassist, Carl Radle. We were with Gary Lewis and the Playboys. Leon Russel was the producer and arranger. We were all from Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Carl took me up to Sammy Davis, Jr.’s house high up in the Hollywood Hills where the Band were doing their second album for Capitol. They had a studio set up in the pool house. I think they had an eight-track machine. Carl knew Levon and the guys and he was the one who turned me onto the Music From Big Pink album. That album blew my mind. I listened to it all the time. I thought they were all Southern guys. And it was kind of a shock when I met them. Levon was the only guy from the South.

 

If you are a singing drummer you have a great advantage. I’ve always played to the vocal and I found out that Ringo and countless other drummers, I’m sure, do as well. 

 

Levon was able to push or pull the groove anyway he felt it by singing and playing at the same time. The way he felt space was magnificent. His biggest influences were the blues bands he heard as a young man. The geniuses from the Delta and around where he was from. 

 

So to hear that Big Pink LP and then go to a couple of tracking sessions in Hollywood for their next album and to hear Levon singing and playing with one of the greatest singing bass players, Rick Danko, who always made me wanna cry.  Such a sweet soulful voice. And Ricjard Manuel was the voice that sounded like it was coming straight from heaven. Garth Hudson, creating a totally unique sound for the Band. His keyboards seemed to have a voice just as soulful and timeless as Rick and Richards, And, of course, those epic songs and perfectly formed guitar parts and solos of Robbie Robertson. 

 

In 1989, Ringo had Levon and me and Rick Danko playing all together on his first All Starr Band. We had Billy Preston and Dr. John on keys, Joe Walsh and Nils Lofgren on guitars and Clarence Clemmons on tenor sax. Every night was such a treat to hear all those guys doing their solo spots. Rick and Levon doing “Up on Cripple Creek,” “The Weight, and “ The Shape I’m In.”     

 

I was in New York in July, 1969, with Delaney and Bonnie. One night I ended up at the Hit Factory, I think, could have been A&R studios. John Simon and Robbie and the guys were mixing The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down. They had recorded the track a few weeks earlier at Sammy Davis’ house in L.A. 

 

I can’t even begin to describe what that scene was like. I was sitting in the back on a couch, watching this happen. There were four of five pairs of hands all over the studio console.  The  song seeped into my soul so much so that later when I would hear it on the radio and remember that evening with those guys as they mixed it, I would just cry. It still gets to me when I hear it.

 

Levon makes you believe this guy Virgil Kane and his deep southern pride. I am so glad I met Levon as early on as I did. His good-hearted soulfulness helped change my outlook on music and people. I will never tire of hearing the Band play and sing those great songs.

 

“All Along The Watchtower’ was always one of my favorite songs to play with Neil Young. Amazing song. Playing it with Neil was always a huge amount of fun because of the way he plays. The song just allowed him to soar, completely fly. And it allows for a big, massive wide beat. It has so many powerful elements. Playing it with Bob Dylan was the ultimate, of course. 

 

Jim Keltner and Harvey Kubernik on Bob Dylan’ Trouble No More box set and the 1979 - 1981 Dylan tours    

 

I received a phone call from Bob wanting to know if I’d like to hear his new album and maybe go on the road with him. I wasn’t really much interested in touring, but I always loved playing with Bob.  

 

Earlier in the seventies, the recordings I did with him like ‘Watching the River Flow’ and ‘Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door’ for the Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid movie were so good, I just had to go see what he was up to now. 

 

So I went over to his studio in Santa Monica to listen to the album. I was put in a little room with a chair and some speakers. There was a box of Kleenex on the table next to me, and by the third song I started to cry and cried practically all the way through the end of the tape.  

 

When it was finished I went upstairs to a room where Bob was typing. I told him ‘Wherever you’re going, and whatever you’re going to do I want to go do it with you.’  

 

I didn’t realize at the time, of course, what an effect it would have on my life.  

 

I loved the rehearsals for the tour.  The first one was 9/11/79.

 

Every day the most incredible fresh food was delivered for lunch. Occasionally, Bob’s longtime boyhood friend, Louie Kemp, [Kemp Fisheries] would send these big card board boxes of fish ... salmon, lox, and smoked fish. One big box contained a huge smoked trout. I, to this day, have never tasted anything so fantastic! 

 

Bob assembled a stellar cast of musicians and singers. Tim Drummond, one of my very favorite bass players, [guitarist] Fred Tackett, Spooner Oldham on organ, and one of the greatest Gospel piano players I ever heard, Terry Young.

 

And the incredible singers: Clydie King, Helena Springs, Regina McCrary, Carolyn Dennis, Mona Lisa Young, Gwen Evans, Mary Elizabeth Bridges, and Madelyn Quebec.   

 

We ran through all kinds of different songs. His brand new ones from Slow Train and even some old classics like ‘All My Tomorrows’ by Sammy Cahn and Tommy Edwards’ ‘It’s All in the Game.’ We even played a very cool version of ‘The Ballad of High Noon’ from the movie with Gary Cooper and Grace Kelly.  The idea was to get used to playing together without running the show into the ground.

 

Playing Bob’s music in front of so many people on the road was a very powerful experience. I didn’t know it at the time but I eventually realized that we had all been part of one of Bob’s most important and creative periods. The last concert was 11/21/81 in Lakeland, Florida. 

 

I’m thankful to have played a part. Not only because of the music and the band and all of the people involved but because my life soon changed from a very destructive path I was on to working hard at keeping my family intact and to be able to continue playing music with the lights on. No longer dim and ready to go out.

 

I was staying with Eric Clapton at his home in Surrey when the phone rang early one morning. I picked it up since I was the only one awake. It was Phil Spector. He asked if I wanted to come down and play. So I said ‘sure.’ I borrowed a drum set from my good friend Colin Allen, who was in a band Stone The Crows. He helped me out a lot in those days. At John Lennon’s studio in Ascot the first song we cut was ‘Jealous Guy.’  Then later we did ‘I Don’t Want To Be A Soldier Mama.’ I felt as if I was in a dream, especially later during playback in a room with John, Yoko, Phil Spector, Klaus Voorman and Nicky Hopkins all listening.

 

In 1971 we recorded the ‘Bangla Desh’ single with George Harrison and Phil Spector at Wally Heider’s Studio 4 in Hollywood. That August we did the two Bangla Desh benefit shows at Madison Square Garden in New York.

 

In 1973, John’s ‘Rock and Roll’ album started out with the big band that Phil Spector put together in L.A. Hal Blaine and I did double drums on that.

 

I ended up on Leonard Cohen’s ‘Death of a Ladies’ Man’ sessions by virtue of my association with Phil. He always gravitated toward the great songwriters and singers.  I wasn’t that familiar with Leonard at the time. But just the fact that Spector was producing was enough for me.    

 

Gold Star was one of those magical rooms. It was four doors down from the famous Drum City on Santa Monica Boulevard. Local 47 Musicians Union was just south of Gold Star on Vine Street. And Pro Drum Shop was directly across the street.   

 

On the Cohen sessions I went into Gold Star and after a while, sitting behind my drums, at one point was wondering where Leonard might be.

 

I was looking to the front, having been set up in the middle of this huge band. Phil always liked that kind of set up. It certainly worked for him many times.

 

As I was messing with my drums, I saw a hand come up near my hi hat cymbal on my left side. I looked and this hand was holding a tooth pick with a smoked oyster at the end. I looked further around and it was Leonard. I had never seen him before but I instinctively knew that it was him. Dressed immaculately. He had a suit on. He was a dashing cat in those days. A sophisticated type of dude. And that just sealed the deal when he handed me that smoked oyster. And then he handed me one of those little tiny paper cups with some Chivas Regal scotch. I thought, ‘This is really friggin’ cool.’ We all got a little tipsy but not smashed.

 

Hal Blaine and I had a ball playing double drums on the Cohen sessions. Don Randi was there as well. I played in his trio at Sherry’s, a jazz club on Sunset. I loved playing with Don. I considered that I had really made it when I got that gig at Sherry’s. Six nights a week on the Sunset Strip.

 

Jesse Ed Davis, who was one of my all-time favorite guitar players, is on the Cohen album. He was the go to guy on a lot of records in those days.  

 

One of the fun things about playing for Phil was that he would always have a percussion section: Terry Gibbs, Emil Richards, Gene Estes, Julius Wechter and Bob Zimmitti, among others.  

 

After Cohen’s ‘Death of a Ladies’ Man’ dates, I continued working with Phil at Gold Star on the Ramones’ ‘End of the Century’ album, and the Paley Brothers.  By 1979 I joined up with Bob Dylan for recording and touring.  

 

I wish I could have played more with Leonard. I have always played to the vocal -  that breaks the session drummer rule - but that’s always what I’ve done. I love hearing a provocative lyric in my headphones. The greatest part of that for me is that sometimes I can get real emotional and even cry. Later, I met Leonard’s son Adam and played on one of his albums.