There is a nice line in John Hiatt’s 1988 song “Slow Turning”, where the protagonist is in his car trying to listen to the radio but suddenly turns around: “I’m yelling at the kids in the seat. back / Because they hit like Charlie Watts.
Hiatt’s rumbling lyrics are filled with joyous respect for the Rolling Stones drummer, who died on Tuesday at the age of 80. But, of course, Watts was no firecracker. In fact, he was the opposite of two thunderous peers, Keith Moon of The Who and John Bonham of Led Zeppelin, whose kinetic kit work often overshadowed the songs.
Watts came to rock ‘n’ roll from the jazz side of the tracks, a neighborhood he had walked through repeatedly throughout his six-decade career. This background is loaded with meaning: you anchor and serve the rhythm, keep meticulous time and leave the histrionic to the dilettantes.
Indeed, one look at Watts’ unfazed face in any Stones video or documentary – especially in relation to peacock Mick Jagger – and you’d think the wrong drummer showed up for the session.
‘One of the best’:Paul McCartney, Elton John and more mourn the Rolling Stones’ Charlie Watts
But Watts was the perfect stick man for the Stones, delivering delicious toppings and a hard backbeat, from that 1964 UK No.1 debut hit, “It’s Over Now”, to the 2020 pandemic tome “Live in a ghost town “. “
Five songs that wouldn’t have been so strong without Watts on this drummer’s stool:
“Get out of my cloud” (1965)
This is the song that made me a preteen begging my parents to say OK to drum lessons. Thanks, Charlie. “Cloud” begins with Watts setting the beat syncopated out of the door, kick drum, top hat, snare all working in harmony, followed by rat-a-tat fill that brings the band, then Mick.
Watts repeats this pattern throughout the song pretty much every other bar, keeping the song moving in a totally organic way. Take the drums off a lot of tracks, and the song often still holds up for the most part. Take them out of “Cloud”, and you’ve got a rainy mess.
Rolling Stones drummer Charlie Watts has died at age 80:Playing the drums was all he wanted
“Shake Your Hips” (1972)
This cover art was a heartfelt tribute to blues pioneer Slim Harpo, who wrote the 1966 original and whose name is verified by Jagger. The recording is deliberately imbued with minimalism, with Watts playing a stripped-down percussive shuffle that looks like nothing more than wooden drumsticks on the edge of a drum or some sort of block of wood.
And that’s pretty much where it stays, with only the occasional emphasis on a real drum judiciously thrown to punctuate a lyric. It’s a question of feeling; too mechanical and you lose the blues, too loose and the song gets sloppy. Watts, sounding like a man sitting on a porch, threads the needle perfectly.
“The Beast of the Burden” (1978)
Guitar chords open up this track, but within a few bars Watts arrives with his heartwarming snare and top hat lope that deservedly stays high in the mix throughout.
It’s hard to overstate how important Watts is to both the sweetness and laziness of the song. Sometimes it just seems a fraction behind the beat, almost creating a stumble effect that makes you want to relax and take a trip down the yet unexplained direction of the melody.
“Burden” is basically a delicious piece of soul music by Jagger and Richards, but Watts needs to give it a laconic swing thatMakes it as indelible as some of the classic Motown and Stax songs.
“Slave” (1981)
Certainly, it’s the depth of this song’s monstrous groove that gets you stomping from first to last note, from the simple Keith Richards riff to the sultry basslines of Bill Wyman. But it’s Watts who keeps things funky, mixed with quirky accents while keeping time meticulous. This is where the deceptive simplicity of the veteran drummer shines through, offering a lesson in “less is more” sound objects.
A less confident performer would have been tempted to throw a myriad of fills as Jagger screams and guest saxophonist Sonny Rollins – a jazz titan Watts surely would have been delighted to play behind – blows up a storm. Watts has the impression of being present at the birth of the cool.
‘Sad Sad Sad’ (1989)
“Sad” is actually just one of many songs (corner “Mixed Emotions”) from the album “Steel Wheels” which sees Watts drumming like a steam engine pushing against the red line.
In a way, it’s the classic sound of Watts, that four-floor rhythm that has anchored so many rock classics through the ages. But Watts brings to this simple drum beat a percussive force and impeccable timing that literally propels Jagger & Co. to new heights.
Anyone who’s spent any time on the drums can tell you how hard it is to keep that pace – physically if not psychologically, given that the rest of the band is counting on you to be unfazed.
Watts never wavered, from elegant first to last.
