Motus Mentis

How sad to learn today that Charlie Watts has died. The Rolling Stones have died with him, as far as I’m concerned: it was Charlie, not Mick Jagger, who was really the heart of that band.

I was fortunate enough to meet the legend in person long ago, when I was an assistant engineer on the mixing project for the Stones’ live album Still Life, back in 1982. The whole band, except for Bill Wyman, were there for the sessions. I remember that Charlie never said much; he sat at the back of the control room on a high stool, sipping a long-neck beer. But he was the one all decisions were deferred to. His quiet and august presence, it seems to me now in retrospect, must have been something like how those in attendance have described Washington’s role at the Constitutional Convention.

I can’t mention that album without telling (rather immodestly, and I hope you’ll forgive me!) a little story of my own from that project, a memory I’ve cherished ever since:

When we were making that record, we had to choose between lots of takes from different performances (that’s a big part of the time it takes to make a live album from tour recordings). There was a song — a cover of the old Smokey Robinson tune Going To A Go-Go — that was going to be the single from the album. But the one take that was by far the best had a technical problem with the drum mikes. When we put the track up late one evening, the engineer, the incomparably gifted Bob Clearmountain (who was my mentor in those early years), was dismayed to find that one of the drum tracks — the floor tom, which as it happens is the lead part of the drum pattern for that song — was unusable. Being a drummer myself, after a decent interval I cleared my throat and said “You know, I could play that…”

“Go for it!” Bob said. (It was late, and everyone else had gone home, so we figured we’d just give it a go.) We miked up the drums, and I played the part (it wasn’t particularly challenging). The next day we played it for Charlie; I waited with bated breath.

After a moment, he rendered his judgment:

“Sounds fine to me.” And that was that.

So, if you ever hear that tune on the radio: the floor-tom ride that opens the song, and drives it along throughout, is your humble correspondent.

Rest in peace, Charlie Watts. What a drummer! What a life!