Blowin’ in the Crosswinds
“The complexity of playing simple” is what Billy Cobham calls that thing that happens when he sits down behind the drums. “How can I play simply in the most complex situations?”
Some who’ve watched him perform over the past five decades might be raising an eyebrow or two right now. If Billy Cobham’s drumming isn’t complex, whose is? At full throttle, he is ferocious; the noise he creates is thunderous, his limbs are a blur. Even in a quieter, more contemplative setting, he seems to be everywhere at once. His timing is off the charts, his ability to stay a step ahead and anticipate a coming change unmatched.
If what he’s doing is simpler than it appears, it’s not because Cobham has been tricking the listener with sleight of hand(s); it’s that he’s a master of focus, the channeling of intuition. His gift is making less sound like more, and a lot sound like even more than that. He knows when laying back is a shrewder choice than exploding in every direction, and he knows, without overthinking it, what he can do and what he doesn’t want to do. His goal is to be a connector, a complete musician.
That’s the philosophy that Cobham brings to Crosswinds: Time Lapse Photos, his new album, recorded at Fort Wayne, Indiana’s Sweetwater Studios and produced by Mark Hornsby (see sidebar). Although it shares a title with his 1974 Crosswinds album—his second solo release after leaving the Mahavishnu Orchestra, the John McLaughlin-led band that pretty much defined the fusion genre and put Cobham at or near the top of all of those “world’s greatest drummer” polls—it’s not exactly a remake. Instead, is a rethink, a different way of approaching the compositions on that earlier album, filtered through 45 years of growth. The subtitle is the key to understanding Cobham’s intention.
