Billy Kilson (October 2006 Issue)
Playing With Fire

by Ken Micallef

At a recent concert led by pianist Kirk Lightsey at New York’s Jazz Standard, Billy Kilson played swinging standards and hushed ballads with a fire usually reserved for Cuban fusion or extreme jazz-rock. Displaying remarkable control, power, and dynamics, Kilson also performed with great sensitivity. When vibraphonist Steve Nelson hinted at a double-time surge, Kilson instantly pounced and the band bolted.
    Alternately, Kilson’s brushwork was lush and resounding, his sweeping, concentric figure 8’s creating a massive bed of sound. When the band played Herbie Hancock’s “One Finger Snap” to close the set, the drummer created a lithe Latin pattern between sound sources before erupting in one of his trademark combustible solo explorations. If ever “blowing the roof off the sucker” was an apt description of a drum solo, Kilson lived up to the billing with flurries of single-note power, cross-sticking quakes, and a general feeling of intense agitation in service of the music.
    Kilson has uplifted the bandstands of Dave Holland and Ahmad Jamal, cruised a “La La Land” pulse with Bob James and Larry Carlton, and in his current role, upends smooth jazz convention with trumpeter Chris Botti. Fans of Botti’s successful albums may be attracted to his music’s mellow moods and slick BMW grooves. But with Kilson driving the ship, candy-colored Muzak becomes a torrid stage for improvising � la Miles Davis’s Live Evil era. That same ideal of ’70s fusion-daring recently inspired Kilson to record his second album as a leader, Pots & Pans.
    Like the best bits of Return To Forever’s Hymn Of The Seventh Galaxy, Billy Cobham & George Duke’s Live In Europe, Bill Bruford’s One Of A Kind, and Earth, Wind & Fire’s Live distilled into a single record, Pots & Pans is the progressive record every drummer would love to make, if only they had the skills, musicians, and confidence. Billy Kilson is a wellspring of experience and confidence, whether playing a simple backbeat or one of the manic and mighty odd-metered rhythms found on Pots & Pans. Fortified by the lessons of his teacher, the late Alan Dawson, Kilson consistently plays with a level of fire and precision that recalls everyone from Roy Haynes to Billy Cobham.
    Pots & Pans is a drummer’s record in the best sense of the word. Kilson was unabashed in his desire to make a record that ignores barriers and burns down the stylistic house. “Call” begins the album with a Lenny White ripple of rolling rhythm, followed by a brazen drum solo–both occurring before the one-minute mark. “Fuyu Hanabi” simmers over a propulsive groove that recalls Weather Report, breaking into the Steve Gadd–style stickings of funk burner “Rabbit Kat.” “Guardian Soul” is a solo drum piece created with cymbal swells and powerful, African-inspired mallet work. “Leftside” combines a Japanese traffic jam with a Metallica song. And “Nuevo Dingwalls” is heavy metal bebop with a wicked odd-metered heart.
    Whether smoking a “Teen Town”–styled pocket with pianist Taylor Egeisti, locking in with bass guru Ron Carter, or frying skulls clean with his own brand of fusion mischief, Billy Kilson always comes to play. His exuberance is contagious, as is his dedication to the kid inside the man. Kilson believes that we should all get in touch with our inner child, that small voice that made us pick up the sticks in the first place. Pots & Pans may inspire your own childhood regression back to a time when all things were possible and the drums were the only thing that mattered.

MD: What kind of album did you want to make with Pots & Pans?
Billy: My first CD, While Ur Sleepin’, was cool. But Pots & Pans is aimed at drummers–as well as the kid in me. I took everything I’ve learned from working with Ahmad Jamal, George Duke, Najee, Freddie Jackson, all the way up to Dave Holland, and tried to incorporate it all. I thought, “What if I just have fun with this? What would I like to listen to as a drummer?”
    The music evolved as we started rehearsing. It began going in that Return To Forever direction, but I hadn’t really thought of that. But once we started playing, I was hearing Headhunters, Weather Report, and RTF, which is in me. Of course, funk is my first influence, then the fusion stuff. Fusion led me to Miles and Coltrane.



   As for the tunes, I wrote down these little bass lines and melodies and didn’t record any kind of drum patterns to them. I just wanted to see what would happen organically from the drum throne when the band played. So when I got to rehearsal I had to figure out what to play.
MD: Some records sound like they were recorded by session players, but this sounds as if it was done by a road-hardened band.
Billy: And that’s not easy to do. I valued these guys’ input and honesty. We pulled it off as a band because we’re into everything from Miles and Trane to Slayer, Wayne Shorter, Radiohead, and hip-hop. And, of course, the guys all understand fusion.
MD: You weren’t concerned about making what would be labeled “a drummer’s record”?
Billy: Not at all. I didn’t set out to make a drummer’s record, but I would love the public to respect the drums the way we respect the piano. Take a Herbie Hancock or Chick Corea CD. They’re burning and playing amazing solos throughout the CD. It’s all about the piano, whether it’s acoustic or electric instruments. But when a drummer makes a CD, people say he’s overplaying.
    Why is jazz not the popular music of the day? Thirty years ago, fusion bands filled stadiums. Today, we don’t have a lot of drums in popular music anymore. A lot of live drummers are playing to tracks. Drummers don’t have the musical “space” to explore like they had in the past.

Back