There is plenty to eat to the beat in the delicious drummer documentary feast Count Me In, directed by Mark Lo. Written by Lo, Claire Ferguson, and Sarah Jobling, the film gathers together an array of amazingly accomplished drummers and lets them rip. It features interviews mixed with performance clips, with different sections being devoted to different parts of the craft and its history. The film begins with an amazing drum circle in the telescope of Griffith Park Observatory, that is a headbanger all the way.
During the 81-minute runtime, an unusual but verifiable pattern emerged: a bunch of drummers in 60s England were inspired by a bunch of old American jazz drummers. Those English drummers took American jazz and repurposed its tricks to rock music, which in turn inspired another wave of American drummers. Among the featured drummers are Chad Smith of The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Stephen Perkins of Jane’s Addiction and Porno For Pyros, Nicko McBrain of Iron Maiden, Samantha Maloney of Hole and The Eagles of Death Metal, Clem Burke of Blondie, Stewart Copeland of The Police, Roger Taylor of Queen, Cindy Blackman-Santana of Lenny Kravitz, Nick Mason of Pink Floyd, Rats Scabies of The Damned, Nick “Topper” Headon of The Clash, and Emily Dolan Davies who drummed for Bryan Ferry and Kim Wilde(!). The film’s music is composed by Andy Gray, who produced the Human League. He has scads of interesting things to say about drum machines.
Clem Burke died a few days ago, around the time I watched Count Me In. I got to see him drum for members of The Stranglers and The Sex Pistols during one of the best shows I have ever seen. Blondie was the first group I remember as a child that my parents didn’t have any records of it. The incredible Clem would wrap himself up in his own private tornado to Oz when hitting the skins; you could see him plugged in to that whole other dimension he was sitting in the middle of.
“…gathers together an array of amazingly accomplished drummers and lets them rip.”
You see this phenomenon over and over again with the concert footage in the movie. During performance, the drummer is enveloped in a lunar womb that keeps taking them higher and higher as the beats surround them. The looks of mesmerized bliss on their faces are not so much from narcotic snacking as they are from the sensation of moving space while keeping time.
The way the musicians describe the happiness they get from playing, as well as hearing great playing, will make your heart feel; it is moving. Very few documentaries make you feel so happy without actually having the word happy in the title. Lo and company took on an enormous subject, bit off way more than they could chew, and then fed us every bite. I am as flummoxed as Ginger Baker over how smoothly everything rolls out in perfect clarity. If you weren’t an expert on the subject, then you will be one by the end of the picture.
You really haven’t lived until you have heard McBrain speak of his discovery of drumming. This includes, as a child, several demolitions of his mum’s cooker with a pair of knives until he got an actual set. Everyone has great stories that yield so many unexpected insights. This film has completely changed my opinion of drummers, whom I have long viewed as occupational hazards whose equipment and unconscious bodies take up far too much space in the van. Thanks to Count Me In, I now truly understand what magical creatures these artists are. There is more richness here than you can shake a stick at.
"…more richness here than you can shake a stick at."
