I’ve never played a musical instrument, not even a recorder as a kid at school. I always figured that the only thing I’d like to play was the drums. I couldn’t face the thought of cutting my fingers on guitar strings and a piano-style keyboard always seemed to difficult to fathom. Why are they all black or white with nothing on them to give a clue as to what not might lurk beneath? In 1973, a single based around a drummer doing his thing was a revelation; drums could be more than something going on in the background.
I don’t know much about Cozy Powell, and it’s not a name that crops up too often these days. I know he died relatively young several years ago, after a career working with a number of major bands. While it’s not the greatest drumming I’ve heard, I still want to have this recording in here as a reminder of the time when I recognised that a bit of percussion could be lifted to a different level in a pop record.
There has been much debate about the best rock drummers and few would argue against the likes of Moon and Bonham and Grohl and Baker and Copeland, among others, but I have to stick with my favourite for my next choice. He became successful as a solo artist, and has since become a figure of ridicule, rather unfairly, in my view. Many of his records may not be to my taste, but that’s no reason to ignore his earlier work. I have a craving for chocolate just now. Good night.