For decades Living Colour’s connoisseur of all things rhythmic has journeyed to the far corners of the globe to perform, search for rare instruments, and jam with local musicians. Now he’s released a highly personal tribute to the most adventurous time traveler in drumming history, the U.S.-born and raised jazz musician Elvin Jones. Sometimes the most exotic adventures are waiting for you right at home.

Will Calhoun’s Bronx, New York, home is a wonderland of drums, art, music, records, more drums, and more art, much of it acquired during his many tours as a member of the platinum-selling band Living Colour and his personal journeys as world traveler, sound conjurer, and eternal student of all things musical and magical.

Calhoun’s 1930s-era house occupies a Tudor-style block around the corner from his childhood friend Steve Jordan. His home is practically a museum, but also an incredible learning opportunity. Calhoun has traveled from the Republic of Congo in Africa to Recife in Brazil to factories in China in his search for musical wisdom, a journey to unlock secrets buried to time as one civilization has conquered another, the loser’s history lost to the ages but open to curious souls with the means and intellect to unearth knowledge.

Calhoun welcomes us in, and though he’s sporting a dislocated thumb wrapped in a bandage, he still reaches out to clutch my hand. Gold and platinum records hang on a wall, and as we walk through the house, Will describes his drums, percussion, and artwork.

“That tall female-looking drum is more of an art piece,” he explains. “It’s a pregnant woman/drum representing fertility and life, a low-end-sounding drum.” Calhoun taps the instrument; it produces a deep, booming tone. The blond head of another drum, a round, orange-colored one, is made from the skin of a camel’s neck. “It’s a ceremonial drum from Mali, the Dogon country,” Will says. “The camel’s neck is similar to thin leather or goatskin used for making drums and for Dogon music. The neck skin is hard; you have to heat it up to get a better sound, by holding the drum close to a flame. The Dogon would also boil the camel skin; it comes out like a rope, which they used to tie up furniture, weapons, etc. I had to negotiate with a hunter in Mali for that drum.”

An incredibly loud set of Vietnamese woodblocks stands next to the fireplace, and a doumbek from central Ghana lies on the floor. A bay window reveals a log drum from the Republic of Congo. A Moroccan doumbek produces a variety of pitches and resonances. An oblong plate adorned with intricate carvings depicting people, places, and history hangs on another wall. “That’s also from the Dogon people in northern Mali,” Calhoun says. “It explains a hundred-year-old family history and lineage. In Dogon country, ‘hello’ could be three hours long! History matters.” A humongous African wooden bird, a carved Brazilian warrior ship, an ominous ceremonial mask from West Africa, and a small table inlaid with the depiction of a working woman, bought in Belize at a roadside market for thirty dollars, are equally startling pieces.

Next we walk down a narrow staircase, and we’re greeted by a tremendous wall of drums that fills half of the basement. There, stacked one atop another, is a Moroccan wedding drum, a Muffintop snare drum, a ’30s Ludwig snare, a set of Sleishman drums, a set of Smithsonian-bound drums engraved with African symbols, a handmade Moroccan snare, an elephant-wood snare, a Baltimore Drum Company snare, a ’20s-era Ludwig field tom, boobams, a Brazilian-made metal snare, an Italian-made Phidrums snare, and a large silver ThunderEcho Trash Kat.

A deep interest in exploring the past extends well beyond collecting visual-arts artifacts and instrumental crafts and well into the realm of sound, as Calhoun immerses himself in the legendary music of our drumming forefathers, boldly seeing how he can add his own voice to the music as it stretches out into the future. Celebrating Elvin Jones, Will’s new album on Motéma Records, gathers the drum master’s music—and some of his collaborators—not only to pay respect but also to further explore its possibilities. Jones helped revolutionize jazz as a member of the John Coltrane Quartet, then took the art even further as one of the leading jazz drummers in the world from the 1960s to the late 1990s. Calhoun is honored and excited to nudge it into the ears of further generations.

Calhoun surrounds himself with a stellar cast on Celebrating: bassist Christian McBride, saxophonist Antoine Roney, pianist/keyboardist Carlos McKinney, and trumpeter Keyon Harrold. Innovative keyboardist Jan Hammer, a member of Jones’ trio, joins Calhoun for a reprise of “Destiny,” and the late Senegalese master percussionist Doudou N’Diaye Rose, his sons, and Calhoun perform a blowout version of the traditional Japanese folk song “Doll of the Bride.” Album highlights include “EJ Blues,” a staple of Elvin’s live performances, and “Whew,” which originates from Jones’ 1969 album, Poly-Currents. Wayne Shorter’s “Mahjong” appeared on the saxophonist’s 1965 release JuJu, and Elvin’s wife, Keiko, composed “Shinjitsu.” The thoughtful “Sarmastah” is Calhoun’s sole original composition on the album.

While Calhoun has kept busy crafting his Elvin tribute, he and his bandmates in Living Colour have written and recorded an album of new material, Shade. The pioneering rock group sounds rejuvenated and inspired; Will’s mammoth groove, massive drum sound, and cracking rhythms propel the titanic guitars of “Black Out,” the riotous pummel of “Glass Teeth,” the slow-mo funk slammer “Invisible SS,” the punk rocker “Patterns in Time,” the funk rocker “Come On,” and Biggie Smalls’ “Who Shot Ya.”

From Celebrating to Shade, Will Calhoun provides a role model for grooving, creative, thinking drummers the world over.

MD: Why an Elvin Jones tribute album now?

Will: It’s actually late now, both for me and generally speaking. Sometimes the industry creates obstacles for art. You may want to express yourself in a certain way, but the industry is thinking about press, downloading, release dates—the formatted formula to being an artist, which if you’re thinking spiritually is not realistic. Art comes when it comes. I try to accomplish as much as I can in my rare downtime. I wanted to do something really meaningful on the Elvin project; I didn’t want to wing it. I strategized the project: interviewed musicians who had played with Elvin, met with his widow, Keiko. I researched all of Elvin’s music. I listened to his John Coltrane material, and I really love the album Elvin Jones Is “On the Mountain” with Gene Perla and Jan Hammer. That record is brilliant. I used to see Elvin and Gene do clinics at Drummer’s World, so I knew Gene had a close relationship with Elvin, so I spoke with him too.

MD: Your approach to Elvin’s music is quite different.

Will: I always heard Elvin in my mind in an electric setting, without necessarily compromising his music by playing with loud guitars; Elvin always sounded electric to me. “On the Mountain” was performed with acoustic drums, acoustic bass, Fender Rhodes, and Moog. It’s an acoustic/electric record. Christian McBride came on board, as did Elvin alumni Antoine Roney and Carlos McKinney.

MD: For those who don’t know, what is Elvin’s contribution to our art? Why should young drummers, for instance, care?

Will: Elvin is an important part of drumming history. He came along at a time when jazz drumming had an established, carved-out language. Elvin changed the rules. No disrespect to Max Roach or Art Blakey, who were geniuses—Elvin’s thing was just different. Difference creates depth to an industry. Like a Tesla car, Elvin was a game-changer at a time when the standard approach to jazz consisted of a certain kind of language.

MD: When Elvin played live, something descended into the room; the atmosphere was physically altered.

Will: I saw Elvin play many times during my life. We did a clinic together once with Giovanni Hidalgo at [New York City rental/rehearsal/performance venue] SIR in the early 1990s. I was blown away. He was incredible! I played first, then Giovanni, then Elvin, and then the three of us played together. One of my best friends is Bemshi Shearer, whose mother is Lois Shearer, one of Elvin’s best friends. After seeing me play with Living Colour at CBGB before we released our first record, she told me that my drumming reminded her of Elvin. She was where I first heard all these stories about Elvin.

MD: You’re playing Elvin’s tunes on the record, but you don’t play anything like Elvin, intentionally.

Will: I played the record for Bemshi, and she noted that I made the record my way. Elvin influenced me as an artist, not only as a drummer.

TUNING FOR ELVIN
MD: For the Elvin Jones project, did you tune your drums differently from the way you do for Living Colour? The drums are very wide open.

Will: I always tune open, even in rock situations. I try to bring the jazz aesthetic to my commercial projects. I also chose a really open-sounding recording studio with a big live room and thirty-foot ceilings. We used old German mics, but not a lot of close miking. We placed microphones around the drums. Things aren’t so individually miked. I was going for an old-school approach. More ambient miking.

MD: Did you change your rock tuning?

Will: Yes, slightly. The toms are higher in pitch. It’s the same tuning I used when I played with McCoy Tyner at the Blue Note recently. I play two 18″ bass drums—one for fullness, and the other for indigenous ancestral tones. Both bass drums and toms are tuned higher. Ironically, my snare, which is 13″, is tuned lower than my rock snare drum.

MD: How did you choose or design your Mapex drums?

Will: When I chose the shells at Mapex in China, I wanted to build a drumset that had the depth of straight-ahead [jazz] but that would also work when I play world music. I wanted to be able to step on the gas a little bit if I needed the music to get heavier, and not feel like I’m being overbearing. When some jazz kits are tuned really high it can sound like the drums are distorting. So I wanted these drums to have a couple extra gears to shift into if I needed it.

MD: What else contributed to the drum sound on Celebrating Elvin Jones?

Will: First of all, clear Evans J1 heads. When you tune coated heads up high you can become married to that sound. Clear heads stretch a bit more for me. If you want to go down a half step or two on your tuning and still play the same music, you can with clear heads. If you go down a half step with coated heads, it’s very noticeable. It’s very articulated. With clear heads you can tease the sound a little bit between the top and bottom heads to still get the higher sentiment, but at a lower frequency.

MD: How many plies are in the Mapex Saturn shells?

Will: The snare and tom shells are four plies of maple and two inner plies of Walnut. The shells are actually quite thin at 5.1 millimeters, to increase their resonance. The bass drums are six plies and thicker to help increase the power. The bearing edges are flawless.

FINDING ELVIN JONES
MD: What are some of your favorite Elvin moments from specific albums?

Will: “The Drum Thing” with John Coltrane from Crescent. It’s so unusual and unique; it’s almost like seeing someone coming out with a fashion that hasn’t been released yet. It’s very African, very ambient, very hip, cool, and it swings.

MD: In the liner notes to Celebrating Elvin Jones you write, “Elvin Jones’ unique and uncompromising contribution to jazz and the world of music are invaluable. He has influenced my approach to music in all genres.” Can you elaborate on that?

Will: Elvin bent time. He sometimes played rhythms with his hands while his other two limbs were doing something totally different. He made me think about rhythm and music and time in a different way. Elvin’s concept of time wasn’t one metronomic piece. Elvin’s time was continuous. The 1 is there, but everything isn’t pronounced all the time. There’s life to his time feel; it’s elastic. Elvin taught me how to use elasticity within the hi-hat, kick, snare, and toms. Within the time frame, the music might be in 4/4, but you can wrap that 1 around four times before you get to 2.

MD: Also in the liner notes, you reference Elvin’s rhythmic connection to the Congo [the two countries that border Africa’s Congo River—the Democratic Republic of Congo and the Republic of Congo].

Will: Congo drumming…I don’t like when the word primitive is used as a description; it’s like you’re referencing whales and elephants. But Elvin’s time and approach to the drumset is very similar to Congolese drumming. It’s profound, melodic, and specialized. Sometimes Elvin sounded like a warrior. He had these almost war-dance kinds of sounds. The way he hit the toms and the structure of his rhythms was very much a warrior kind of approach, and he swung really hard.

ELVIN, TRACK BY TRACK
MD: One of the tunes on the album is “EJ Blues.” On which Elvin record does that appear?

Will: I’m not sure; that’s on a lot of the bootlegs that I have. I would take my Walkman to the Village Vanguard and record Elvin when he performed. “EJ Blues” was usually a set opener. I always loved that song. When I met [saxophonist and former Jones band member] Sonny Fortune, I discussed the songs that were on my cassettes. He helped me to understand Elvin’s repertoire. I have a few cassettes of Elvin playing at the Village Vanguard from the early ’80s.

MD: Your solo in “EJ Blues” is really slamming and clear. Great combinations. And you open “Whew” with a brief solo.

Will: “Whew” appeared on Elvin’s album Poly-Currents. That little drum preface is me warming up before the take. I usually don’t leave those in, but this time I did. Just me kicking into the track. It’s like you’re fixing your shirt; it’s part of the reality of getting prepared to start the song.

MD: Coltrane’s “Harmonique.”

Will: That’s a classic.

MD: Then your composition “Sarmastah.” Some hip brushwork there, and a great pulse.

Will: Elvin was the king of playing really slow swing time, and with brushes. I always enjoyed him playing that kind of time. The most humorous part of an Elvin Jones gig was watching him play really slow ballads. He would moan. He had that gravelly moan—you could hear it. He played such slow time you’d think, Okay, he’s going to lose it. Then he’d play a big fill, and bam! It would blow wineglasses off the tables in the Vanguard. Elvin would moan, then right back into the time. It was one of the most entertaining aspects about watching him play. I wanted to do something similar to where Elvin plays really slow, so I composed “Sarmastah.” I’m also playing a twelve-string guitar on this track. Many people may not be aware that Elvin was a good guitar player.

MD: New York City musicians don’t really play that kind of slow tempo anymore.

Will: To lock in that slow tempo during the take I made a loop. Everybody has their mental version of playing slow, right? When we cut “Sarmastah” the guys were going a little bit left, so I made a loop. You can play whatever you want, but that’s where the time is. I didn’t have them play to the loop; I had it in my headphones. I made a cheesy digital loop from a drum machine. After we recorded it I played the tune back, took out my drums and put the loop in—the guys were all in time.

“Sarmastah” means mystic. And Elvin mystified me with this thing! Sometimes Elvin would go “ting, ting, ta-ting,” very slowly. One time he sounded like he actually stopped the time for a couple seconds. People in the club were put into a state of sonic suspended animation. I thought, I can’t play a slow tempo like Elvin, but I can do something similar. I was fooling around with this melody on acoustic guitar and Antoine Roney jumped on it and said, “Let’s cut it right now.” It’s a mood piece.

MD: You also cover Wayne Shorter’s “Mahjong.”

Will: I’m playing a Manding rhythm there. The hi-hat and bass drum have one sound; one pedal is hitting the hi-hat and smaller bass drum at the same time. The other bass drum plays the other two notes. It’s a high-low-low rhythm. Three notes in the phrase. The hi-hat is on the 1 and 3 [in 6/4]. It’s a straight West African rhythm.

MD: You’re mostly playing rims in “Mahjong”?

Will: Mostly on the rims. Also toms and some ride cymbal; that’s what the smaller drums would play in a Manding percussion section. Some guys in the percussion section would just play the crack, or main downbeat, in the first part of the pattern with a stick. Other guys would play the lower bass-frequency rhythm. That’s how the percussion section would sound if you broke it down. I’m playing the Manding on the kit where you get to hear the entire rhythm. I was trying to replicate that moving-across-the-Serengeti vibe, but not too busy and not too defined.

MD: “Shinjitsu” is anthemic and powerful, but brief; you’re playing mallets and your Boomywang there.

Will: Keiko Jones wrote that, and Elvin played it at every gig. It was taken from a Japanese folk song. Elvin would play that song for almost twenty minutes in concert. It’s so “Elvin,” I couldn’t not put it on the record. In his version there was a big section he soloed over. He would do that whole mallet thing. I wanted to play the melody only as a blessing, because he would always play that at his shows. I have another song with a similar vibe on the record, “Doll of the Bride,” so I paid my respects to Elvin by just playing the melody of “Shinjitsu.”

MD: Are you playing hand drums and drumset in “Shinjitsu”?

Will: No, that’s Doudou N’Diaye Rose and four other sabar hand drummers. Then I join in playing a two-bass-drum ostinato while soloing with my bare hands on the snare and toms. I’m trying to make the connection to Doudou N’Diaye Rose’s concept, which is 40,000 years old. I recorded him with four of his sons in Senegal. I met him, went to his house, and he was super-kind. He said, “Young man, what would you like to do?” I said I wanted to record his patterns, which I didn’t understand. He very slowly broke down many ancient rhythms. I was in Senegal playing a jazz festival. Doudou was very polite; he asked me what my thing was all about. I said, “Me? Are you kidding me?” I was there to see him! He was blown away by my Korg Wavedrum. He freaked out when I brought out the effects pedals and started playing with distortion and delay. He told one of his helpers, “Get me one of those!” They had no idea. I have video of Doudou playing my Wavedrum with his African stick.

MD: What’s happening in your drum solo after the brass section in “Doll of the Bride”? Is that you with Doudou?

Will: That’s the cadence that Elvin wrote. You can find fifty versions of “Doll of the Bride” on YouTube. That song is forty minutes long. Elvin solos a while out front, then he plays the cadence, then a Latin part comes in. There’s also a pre-cadence. That’s how Elvin did it. My fifteen-minute version is condensed! It was an entire set of music when you’d go see Elvin perform.

MD: “Destiny” is up-tempo and burning. Kind of the rock tune of the record.

Will: That’s one of my favorite Elvin recordings ever, from Elvin Jones Is “On the Mountain.” A brilliant combination of Gene, Jan, and Elvin. It’s great to hear Elvin playing with the Fender Rhodes and Moog. Jan Hammer was also a game-changer. That’s an incredible album. And “Destiny” always got under my skin. I know it by heart. The song is a unique arrangement, and the duo between Jan and Elvin is great. It’s so hip, and I love that cadence. And the way Gene wrote the tag with the time changes—simply brilliant.

When I was mixing the Living Colour album Shade, up in Rhinebeck, New York, I called Jan, who lives nearby, and asked if he would record “Destiny” with me. He said “Yeah.” It was incredible. Jan recorded it, edited it, and mixed it for me. Jan mixed Jeff Beck’s Wired. He also recorded and mixed Tony Williams’ Joy of Flying. We cut it with Christian McBride on bass. A few weeks later I was playing 55 Bar with Mike Stern, and while I was setting up my drums, Gene Perla walks in and says, “Jan says you covered my song, and he said it’s incredible. I want a copy!” It was great to hear Gene say that.

LC BACK IN THE SHADE
MD: What’s the approach on Shade?

Will: It’s very blues based. All the songs are written by the entire band. We recorded a cover of Robert Johnson’s “Preachin’ Blues.” Ed Stasium, who mixed our first two records, mixed Shade, which is a good thing. We needed to bring some of that sound back to Living Colour, the sound that put us on the map. We got away from that sound for a bit, and we went through problems in-house as well. Ed helped spell out who we are. Niko Bolas and Chris Lord-Alge also mixed a few tracks. Andre Betts produced the record, and he brought an urban, edgy element to the recording.

Those four guys and the band are trying to maintain who Living Colour is and where we came from. Those first albums, Vivid [1988], Time’s Up [1990], and Stain [1993], are classics, and we shouldn’t get away from those sonically, although we’re in a new era. We’re moving forward while keeping the older, traditional production. So I’m excited about the mixes and the new music.

MD: Is there a theme to the new album?

Will: It’s political, it’s blues, it’s funky, it’s rock. We covered Biggie Smalls’ “Who Shot Ya” and shot a video for that. Among other things, the lyrics deal with gun laws, which is not only about white police officers killing black people. There are a lot of other issues—apathy, freedom, love, and life.

IMPROVISING WITH WAVES AND A KAT
MD: In an online tutorial video, you’re playing the Korg Wavedrum and another electronic device that looks like a suspended thunder sheet. You’re getting incredible sounds from that setup.

Will: That’s the Alternate Mode jamKAT. I use that, the Korg Wavedrum, and the Roland HandSonic. When soloing I play a drumset, but I always go into that jamKAT world. People are always mesmerized by its sounds. I’m not patting myself on the back, but I purposely want to get in front of a rock ’n’ roll crowd with the jamKAT and the other pieces; I want them to experience the music I create with those devices, which I consider to be timeless, title-less music in a sense. It’s electronic, it’s African, it’s ambient, it’s European, Brazilian, it’s dance and disco, hip-hop, underground metal, avant-garde. I create all these sounds and build loops.

I’m also using these platforms to create art. I turn off all the stage lighting and solo with jamKAT loops using light sticks. I did it for fun with Living Colour, then I filmed it and began experimenting. I played a solo set in California with the jamKAT, and a guy from the video/art company SceneFour asked to film and photograph my solos, which we did. You only see the streaks of light. Not me, not the kit. So we took hundreds of photos of the performance and then chose thirteen. These pieces became my latest art series, titled “AZA.” Anyone can visit WillCalhounArt.com, browse, and purchase personally signed canvas pieces from the collection.

CALHOUN’S CONSTRUCTIONS
MD: What are you currently doing on the set to improve? Do you even think purely as a drumset player anymore?

Will: Yes, but not in a singular way. I think of the drumset as a tool. It’s like a frying pan—a great object that you can create many styles of meals with. I practice on a Moongel Workout Pad. I practice Ted Reed’s Syncopation full speed ahead. I still practice rudimental things on the full kit. I still love watching and listening to Tony Williams. I went to Berklee, but there was a long line of students waiting to study with Alan Dawson, the genius. I was in Berklee for four years and I never had the opportunity to study with him. I studied with Tommy Campbell, John Ramsay, and others who studied with Alan Dawson, but I wish I had studied with him. But I was a student, I was broke, and Alan’s lessons were a bit of distance away from Berklee. My most challenging practicing is studying Lenny Nelson’s videos. He’s a brilliant Bostonian whose knowledge of the instrument is beyond normal human consumption.

MD: You were at Berklee after Jeff “Tain” Watts and Marvin “Smitty” Smith?

Will: Yes, at the tail end of that era. They got the last of the good soup! The school changed a lot, plus it’s $60k a year now.

MD: What kinds of chops-builders do you give your current students?

Will: The metronome is king. Set it to two different paces, and record everything you practice. I believe in practicing exercises in groups of tens, twenties, fifties, or hundreds. Then you make a graph. I give my students an exercise at 68 bpm on the metronome, playing alternating left and right 8th notes in unison with the sound of each metronome tick. Record that and listen. Draw a line down the middle of a piece of paper. Depending on whether each stroke is early or late with the metronome tick, you put the mark before or after the line. After ten strokes and you’ve notated each strike, that will give you an idea of where exactly you need to get your time and sticking together.
Also listen to the sound, making sure the volume of each stroke is the same. Play everything evenly. I start out from there, then increase the level of difficulty. Playing loud, playing soft, playing with accents. You have to learn vocabulary words before you can build sentences.

MD: Where do you teach?

Will: At Universal Music Production Center in Hackensack, New Jersey, and at Drummers Collective [in Manhattan], by request only.

MD: What books do you use with students?

Will: Ted Reed’s Syncopation, Fine and Dahlgren’s Accent on Accents, Robert Starer’s Rhythmic Training.

MD: Did you enjoy your Berklee experience?

Will: Yes and no. They present the tools; you have to build the house. You have to figure it out. I learned from Boston, a city where there are great book and record stores, from doing sessions, from professors who gave a damn, from John Ramsay and Tommy Campbell, and most importantly l learned from my friends at Berklee: Billy Kilson, Gene Jackson. I learned from great drummers who helped me. Living in the dorms was a bit rough, but you make it work!

I come from a very academic family. I didn’t want to attend college; I wanted to hang in New York. The city was incredibly happening in the ’80s. But I have my mother’s vision—she’s an academic—and it was a great education. I graduated with a degree in recording engineering [now music production and engineering]. I’m glad I did my four years and got out of there!

MD: How do you speak to the business of being a musician now?

Will: Now you have to know the terrain. Before you could just be a musician and hire a manager. Now you have to cook the food and serve it. More than ever, musicians have to understand the internet, contracts, the law, intellectual property, your worth, what you can resell, publishing, copyrights. It’s become more defense than offense. Now you don’t need a record deal—you can sell online. It’s changed from an industry creating your community to you creating your own community.

MD: Your many years of study have enabled you to play so many different styles of drumming.

Will: Thanks to Living Colour, I was able to begin my research while traveling the world. I enjoy being in Living Colour, where I can play rock ’n’ roll and everything else!