eyyyyyyye yayayay: 77 drummers

(More photos can be found at the Flickr Boredoms photo pool.)

Yesterday I saw the greatest Krautrock band in the world, and it had 78 members, all but one drummers. I am speaking, of course, about the Boredoms‘ much ballyhooed 77BOADRUM, the Branca-style performance by the Osaka noise act of a 77 minute piece performed live on July 7, 2007 featuring a lineup of 77 drummers. In a word, it was insane.

Some backstory, first. The gig was held in Brooklyn, at the Empire-Fulton Ferry State Park, which is nestled — and, overused as it may be, that is the right word — between the Brooklyn (to the south) and Manhattan (to the north) Bridges. It makes for an extremely picturesque setting, especially as the sun sets over Manhattan just across the East River. Doors to the park opened at 4pm, with the performance — after an opening set from 17 Dots favorites Gang Gang Dance — due to begin at 6:30.

I arrived later than I should have — about 5:30 or so — not sure what to expect in terms of crowds, only to blunder into a line that stretched for at least two miles. Asking around, it seemed that even the folks who were about halfway up the line had been waiting for more than three hours. (And in the end, crazy as it sounds, most of those people didn’t even get in, which is especially odd as the park itself was not too crowded. Although I’m sure if they had packed it full you’d be hearing the opposite complaint. Lose-lose.) I still got in as my friend Jared was one of the performing drummers, so big thanks to him for that.

My expectations for the performance were very low: clearly the spectacle factor is high, but what are the odds that this thing would actually be, you know, good? Add in the fact that the rehearsals earlier in the day — the first and only rehearsal, mind you — had been, to quote a friend who witnessed it, “rough,” and it seemed highly probable that the whole thing could really disappoint.

The structure of the set was this: watch what the drummer to your right plays, and one measure after he/she begins playing, copy it. That was the basic gist, except on special occasions, when Eye of the Boredoms — standing on an elevated stage in the middle of the spiral-jetty layout (click here) — would raise a trident (!!!!!!!!!) indicating certain maneuvers, or when he would use his hands to direct the loudness and softness of each drum thwack. That was the extent of the preparation.

The piece began with the sharp dissonance of 77 ride cymbals clamoring to life. It was an awkward beginning. From my vantage point right up against the drum circle, you could see the nervousness and fear passing from drummer to drummer, each of them anxiously keeping their eyes on the performer to the right, not wanting to be the first to make a flub. (There would be many of those.) The noise was deafening.

After roughly two minutes of this, the Boredoms then began pounding their floor toms on the one-beat of a 4/4 rhythm, a real tribal sound, like the last thing you would hear before being sacrificed by unfriendly island natives. The pounds slowly made their way around the spiral, everyone’s eyes glued to drummer number 77 as he was the last to mash his cymbals.

During this section, quite a few drummers broke rank to throw their own little stamps on the piece. It was the real life caricature of every bad drummer joke ever. Little fills, cowbells smacks, cymbals when there weren’t supposed to be — it devolved just a bit, and we in the crowd were left trying to figure out what was planned and what was simply ego. With musicians, the answer to that should be more than obvious.

A more intricate beat began to emerge — nothing too crazy — and the drummers really started to relax. It was like for the first time they could hear themselves, really get a sense of the whole, let go of those jitters. This is when the piece really began to take off. It was also around here that Eye began adding vocals: heavily reverbed shouts and calls with some synths and odd tones thrown in here and there. It wasn’t a melody, but it was a welcome counterpart to the rhythm-only sound.

And then, out of nowhere, it all went fucking nuts. Eye, standing in the middle of the spiral, very ceremonially pulls out a gigantic trident maybe six feet tall. It’s silver, with short, thick tongs on the top. He puts it in the air to make sure everyone can see it, and then he very slowly pushes it up into the sky… and then an EXPLOSION. As if he called the gods of thunder down into the park, every single drummer went CRAZY, everyone playing as hard and as fast as they possibly could. I remember that about ten seconds after it started, I frantically glanced down at my arms because it felt like bugs were crawling on them before I realized: no, that’s just the vibrations from the music driving my nerves mad.

Behind Eye, jutting out in opposite directions like European road signs at a crossroads, were six large bars, maybe four feet long each, that looked like giant xylophone keys. Each was colored differently, and when Eye would strike one with a drumstick, it would emit a loud tone that sounded exactly like the guitars on the first Neu! album. And so out of these six tones, Eye began to construct melodies. Really, really good melodies, that recalled Can, Eno, Kraftwerk, Neu, etc. That whole generation of driving but insular rock music.

As this is going on, the lead drummers begin eeking out an honest-to-God Krautrock beat. That hyper-flat snare sound, the steady rhythm on the tom. It spread around the spiral quickly, and before we knew it we were sitting in the midst of the Autobahn or something. It was incredible. (Not coincidentally, it was at this point that a giant dancing circle broke out, as the hippies in the crowd made their presences known.) This continued blissfully on for at least ten or fifteen minutes, every one of them incredible.

The whole park and area was just abuzz. At some point I had backed up from the very front, wanting to get a look at how this thing appeared in total. It was a significantly better experience. Up on the Brooklyn Bridge, some couple hundred yards south and above, people had gathered on the walkway, and were peering down on the whole shebang. (Hoping Flickr comes through with some photos from that vantage point.) And outside and in a neighboring park, people who couldn’t even see were hanging out just to listen.

The piece kept moving on, subtly mutating, at times becoming more urgent, at others more passive. Towards the end, the 77 drummers managed to replicate the sound of a tremendous storm lashing up on shore as they made their snare crashes swell and ebb with the guide of Eye’s hand. It was stunning to hear.

There were lots of camera crews around and all of that, so I’m sure some sort of product will be released in conjunction, and if this happens, by all means try to see it. This was one of the best and most rewarding musical experiences I have had in a very long time. I went in with zero expectations and was completely blown away. Thing is, even if I had been expecting the world, I still would not have been disappointed.

(Note: The Daily Swarm has some more great YouTube clips)

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