1905 Fairground Organ Plays Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody,” and It Works Like a Charm

First built in Paris by Charles Marenghi in 1905, the organ above quick­ly found a home in a Bel­gian restau­rant. And there it remained for many years … until 1967, when it trav­eled abroad, to a Texas fair­ground. Imag­ine the cul­ture shock it must have felt. But that’s not where it ends.

Nowa­days, you can watch the 81-key organ play Queen’s 1975 hit “Bohemi­an Rhap­sody,” quite dif­fer­ent than what­ev­er it was play­ing in Antwerp a cen­tu­ry ago. Alex­ey Rom wrote the arrange­ment for the song, and pro­grammed it using the strip of cards being fed through the instru­ment. Hope­ful­ly this isn’t the last stop on this organ’s grand jour­ney.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book and BlueSky.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Expe­ri­ence Queen’s “Bohemi­an Rhap­sody” in Vir­tu­al Real­i­ty: Down­load the Free App Cre­at­ed by Queen & Google

Inside the Rhap­sody: A Short Doc­u­men­tary on the Mak­ing of Queen’s Clas­sic Song, ‘Bohemi­an Rhap­sody’ (2002)

Gui­tarist Bri­an May Explains the Mak­ing of Queen’s Clas­sic Song, ‘Bohemi­an Rhap­sody’

Queen Doc­u­men­tary Pays Trib­ute to the Rock Band That Con­quered the World

The Music of Queen Re-Imag­ined by “Extra­or­di­nary” Clas­si­cal Pianist, Natalia Pos­no­va

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The Physics of Playing a Guitar Visualized: Metallica’s “Nothing Else Matters” Viewed from Inside the Guitar

Give it a chance, you won’t be dis­ap­point­ed. While the first 30 sec­onds of the video above may resem­ble an ama­teur iPhone prank, it soon becomes some­thing unex­pect­ed­ly enchanting—a visu­al­iza­tion of the physics of music in real-time. The Youtu­ber places his phone inside an acoustic gui­tar, then plays Metallica’s “Noth­ing Else Mat­ters” against a back­drop of clouds and blue sky. Due to what Twist­ed Sifter iden­ti­fies as the phone camera’s rolling shut­ter effect, the actu­al waves of the vibrat­ing gui­tar strings are as clear­ly vis­i­ble as if they were on an oscil­lo­scope.

The com­par­i­son is an apt one, since we might use exact­ly such a device to mea­sure and visu­al­ize the acoustic prop­er­ties of stringed instru­ments. “A gui­tar string”—writes physi­cist and musi­cian Sam Hokin in his short explanation—is a com­mon exam­ple of a string fixed at both ends which is elas­tic and can vibrate.

The vibra­tions of such a string are called stand­ing waves, and they sat­is­fy the rela­tion­ship between wave­length and fre­quen­cy that comes from the def­i­n­i­tion of waves.”

Those with a physics back­ground might appre­ci­ate The Physics Class­room’s tech­ni­cal descrip­tion of gui­tar string vibra­tion, with sev­er­al tech­ni­cal dia­grams. For oth­ers, the video above by Youtube physics teacher Doc Shus­ter may be a bet­ter for­mat. Shus­ter explains such enti­ties as nodes and antin­odes (you’ll have to tell me if you get any of his jokes). And at about 2:25, he digress­es from his mus­ings on these phe­nom­e­na to talk about gui­tar strings specif­i­cal­ly, which “make one note for a giv­en tight­ness of the string, a giv­en weight of the string, and a giv­en length of the string.”

This is, of course, why chang­ing the length of the string by press­ing down on it changes the note the string pro­duces, and it applies to all stringed instru­ments and the piano. Oth­er fac­tors, says Shus­ter, like the body of the gui­tar, use of pick­ups, etc., have a much small­er effect on the fre­quen­cy of a gui­tar string than tight­ness, weight, and length. We see how the com­plex­i­ty of dif­fer­ent stand­ing wave forms relates to har­mon­ics (or over­tones). And when we return to the Metal­li­ca video at the top, we’ll have a bet­ter under­stand­ing of how the strings vibrate dif­fer­ent­ly as they pro­duce dif­fer­ent fre­quen­cies at dif­fer­ent har­mon­ics.

Shuster’s video quick­ly laps­es into cal­cu­lus, and you may or may not be lost by his expla­na­tions. The Physics Class­room has some excel­lent, free tuto­ri­als on var­i­ous types of waves, pitch fre­quen­cy, vibra­tion, and res­o­nance. Per­haps all we need to keep in mind to under­stand the very basics of the sci­ence is this, from their intro­duc­tion: “As a gui­tar string vibrates, it sets sur­round­ing air mol­e­cules into vibra­tional motion. The fre­quen­cy at which these air mol­e­cules vibrate is equal to the fre­quen­cy of vibra­tion of the gui­tar string.” The action of the string pro­duces an equal and oppo­site reac­tion in the air, which then cre­ates “a pres­sure wave which trav­els out­ward from its source.” The pres­sure waves strike our eardrums, our brains inter­pret sound, and there you have it.

via Twist­ed Sifter

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Online Physics Cours­es

Oxford Sci­en­tist Explains the Physics of Play­ing Elec­tric Gui­tar Solos

The Secret Link Between Jazz and Physics: How Ein­stein & Coltrane Shared Impro­vi­sa­tion and Intu­ition in Com­mon

The Math Behind Beethoven’s Music

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” Played on Korean Instrument Dating Back to 6th Century

Gayageum play­er Luna Lee has been on a bit of a viral video roll recent­ly. First it was her cov­er of “Space Odd­i­ty” by David Bowie that earned her 110,000 plus views, and just two days ago we fea­tured her cov­ers of Pink Floyd’s “Anoth­er Brick in the Wall,” “Great Gig in the Sky,” and “Com­fort­ably Numb.” Back in her archives from a year ago, we’ve also found the above video of her cov­er of Leonard Cohen’s “Hal­lelu­jah.”

Although Lee’s rock cov­ers add bass and drums to keep the ener­gy up, this ver­sion just fea­tures three over­dubbed gayageums and a very sub­tle synth string line, leav­ing the bit­ter­sweet melody to come to the fore. No pyrotech­nics here.

The best known of Cohen’s songs and the most cov­ered, thanks most­ly to Jeff Buckley’s ver­sion, “Hal­lelu­jah” was not con­sid­ered a clas­sic orig­i­nal­ly. In this fine sto­ry of the song told by Mal­colm Glad­well on his Revi­sion­ist His­to­ry pod­cast (stream it below), it took 15 years for its genius to be unveiled, by which time it just seemed obvi­ous, like we had known it all along.

Glad­well inter­views Alan Light, who wrote an entire book on the evo­lu­tion of the song, the com­po­si­tion of which “bedev­iled” Cohen the most, result­ing in 80 or so vers­es that Cohen wrote and reject­ed until he found the per­fect com­bo. The song took years to com­plete. (This seg­ment of the pod­cast starts at 18:54 in, but you should real­ly lis­ten to the whole thing as it also explores Cezan­ne’s art and Elvis Costello’s writ­ing meth­ods.) The sto­ry also involves Bob Dylan, a failed orig­i­nal record­ing described as “turgid”, and the end­less tin­ker­ing in Cohen’s live con­certs. The twists and turns that fol­low are both coin­ci­den­tal and trag­ic, and we will let you dis­cov­er all of them by lis­ten­ing to the pod­cast.

Alan Light also spoke to NPR about the song fol­low­ing Cohen’s death ear­li­er this month.

“Sep­tem­ber 11 comes,” he says, “and Jeff Buck­ley’s record­ing of “Hal­lelu­jah” real­ly became sort of an anthem in the after­math, emo­tion­al short­hand for melan­choly and for sad­ness.”

Sounds like that time of dark­ness has come around again, and we still have “Hal­lelu­jah,” need­ed more than ever.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A‑ha’s “Take On Me” Per­formed by North Kore­an Kids with Accor­dions

Pak­istani Musi­cians Play a Delight­ful Ver­sion of Dave Brubeck’s Jazz Clas­sic, “Take Five”

With Medieval Instru­ments, Band Per­forms Clas­sic Songs by The Bea­t­les, Red Hot Chili Pep­pers, Metal­li­ca & Deep Pur­ple

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts who cur­rent­ly hosts the artist inter­view-based FunkZone Pod­cast. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills, read his oth­er arts writ­ing at tedmills.com and/or watch his films here.

Alice’s Restaurant: An Illustrated Version of Arlo Guthrie’s Thanksgiving Counterculture Classic

Alice’s Restau­rant. It’s now a Thanks­giv­ing clas­sic, and some­thing of a tra­di­tion around here. Record­ed in 1967, the 18+ minute coun­ter­cul­ture song recounts Arlo Guthrie’s real encounter with the law, start­ing on Thanks­giv­ing Day 1965. As the long song unfolds, we hear all about how a hip­pie-bat­ing police offi­cer, by the name of William “Obie” Oban­hein, arrest­ed Arlo for lit­ter­ing. (Cul­tur­al foot­note: Obie pre­vi­ous­ly posed for sev­er­al Nor­man Rock­well paint­ings, includ­ing the well-known paint­ing, “The Run­away,” that graced a 1958 cov­er of The Sat­ur­day Evening Post.) In fair­ly short order, Arlo pleads guilty to a mis­de­meanor charge, pays a $25 fine, and cleans up the thrash. But the sto­ry isn’t over. Not by a long shot. Lat­er, when Arlo (son of Woody Guthrie) gets called up for the draft, the pet­ty crime iron­i­cal­ly becomes a basis for dis­qual­i­fy­ing him from mil­i­tary ser­vice in the Viet­nam War. Guthrie recounts this with some bit­ter­ness as the song builds into a satir­i­cal protest against the war: “I’m sit­tin’ here on the Group W bench ’cause you want to know if I’m moral enough to join the Army, burn women, kids, hous­es and vil­lages after bein’ a lit­ter­bug.” And then we’re back to the cheery cho­rus again: “You can get any­thing you want, at Alice’s Restau­rant.”

We have fea­tured Guthrie’s clas­sic dur­ing past years. But, for this Thanks­giv­ing, we give you the illus­trat­ed ver­sion. Hap­py Thanks­giv­ing to every­one who plans to cel­e­brate the hol­i­day today.

Fol­low Open Cul­ture on Face­book and Twit­ter and share intel­li­gent media with your friends. Or bet­ter yet, sign up for our dai­ly email and get a dai­ly dose of Open Cul­ture in your inbox. And if you want to make sure that our posts def­i­nite­ly appear in your Face­book news­feed, just fol­low these sim­ple steps.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Bed Peace Revis­its John Lennon & Yoko Ono’s Famous Anti-Viet­nam War Protest

Willie Nel­son, Pete Seeger, and Arlo Guthrie at Occu­py Wall Street

The Alan Lomax Sound Archive Now Online: Fea­tures 17,000 Record­ings

Hear a 9‑Hour Tribute to John Peel: A Collection of His Best “Peel Sessions”

If you took a job as a radio DJ at the BBC pri­or to 1988, you had to labor under some­thing called “nee­dle time,” a law pro­mot­ed by the Musi­cians’ Union and Phono­graph­ic Per­for­mance Lim­it­ed (and ulti­mate­ly the major record labels) that put a cap on the amount of record­ed music trans­mis­si­ble over the air­waves. Before 1967, the BBC could legal­ly drop the nee­dles of their turnta­bles onto record albums for a mere five hours per day. This may sound pos­i­tive­ly dra­con­ian in our time when music flows freely from all direc­tions, but it did cre­ate jobs for in-house radio-sta­tion musi­cians who could cov­er the hits of the day — and, more impor­tant­ly, gave rise to DJ John Peel’s leg­endary Peel Ses­sions.

“A lot of the things that I lis­tened to and that had a big influ­ence on me I first heard on John Peel,” said artist and music pro­duc­er Bri­an Eno, who describes Peel’s first play­ing of a Vel­vet Under­ground record near­ly fifty years ago as “like a light­ning bolt for me.” In an inter­view we fea­tured a few years back, Eno named the “two things that real­ly make for good records: dead­lines and small bud­gets,” one of his many elo­quent state­ments on not just the impor­tance but the neces­si­ty of lim­i­ta­tions to art. The lim­i­ta­tion of nee­dle time made Peel get cre­ative as well, over­com­ing his inabil­i­ty to spin all the records he want­ed by invit­ing the musi­cians he’d dis­cov­ered into the radio sta­tion to lay down tracks right there in its stu­dios.

The fruits of these Peel Ses­sions often came out with an ener­gy alto­geth­er dif­fer­ent than that of the orig­i­nal album, and dur­ing Peel’s 37 years on BBC Radio 1, he over­saw the record­ing of over 4000 of them. They and oth­er efforts at the inno­v­a­tive edges of pop­u­lar music made Peel a cul­tur­al force, and indeed one of British music’s most influ­en­tial fig­ures, whose broad­casts gave thou­sands of lis­ten­ers their first taste of the likes of David Bowie, Joy Divi­sion, Bob Mar­ley, and Nir­vana. Peel died in 2004, but his lega­cy has lived on in sev­er­al forms, includ­ing the John Peel Cen­ter for Cre­ative Arts and the annu­al John Peel Lec­ture, deliv­ered last year by Eno him­self.

Lon­don-based online radio sta­tion NTS, in its own way very much a con­tin­u­a­tion of Peel’s project, has put togeth­er a trib­ute to Britain’s most astute DJ in the form of a nine-hour broad­cast of some of the best Peel Ses­sions. Bro­ken into four parts, it gath­ers per­for­mances cap­tured at the BBC from artists like Gang of Four, The Fall, My Bloody Valen­tine, The Pix­ies, Aphex Twin, Cabaret Voltaire, and many oth­ers. “Blimey, he was real­ly at the cen­ter of every­thing,” says Eno. “He was putting so many things togeth­er. He was the first per­son who real­ized pop music was seri­ous, and that it was a place peo­ple could real­ly meet and talk to each oth­er. It became the cen­ter of a con­ver­sa­tion.” A dozen years after Peel’s pass­ing, the con­ver­sa­tion con­tin­ues.

via Elec­tron­ic Beats

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Stream 15 Hours of the John Peel Ses­sions: 255 Tracks by Syd Bar­rett, David Bowie, Siouxsie and the Ban­shees & Oth­er Artists

Revis­it the Radio Ses­sions and Record Col­lec­tion of Ground­break­ing BBC DJ John Peel

Bri­an Eno on Why Do We Make Art & What’s It Good For?: Down­load His 2015 John Peel Lec­ture

Prof. Iggy Pop Deliv­ers the BBC’s 2014 John Peel Lec­ture on “Free Music in a Cap­i­tal­ist Soci­ety”

The His­to­ry of Spir­i­tu­al Jazz: Hear a Tran­scen­dent 12-Hour Mix Fea­tur­ing John Coltrane, Sun Ra, Her­bie Han­cock & More

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

How Can You Tell a Good Drummer from a Bad Drummer?: Ringo Starr as Case Study

Yes­ter­day Josh Jones made the case for appre­ci­at­ing the sub­tle genius of Ringo Starr. And as if to sec­ond that, Dirk K. sent this video (above) our way.

Asked what sep­a­rate good drum­mers from bad, drum­mer Bran­don Khoo gives a short demon­stra­tion that puts Ringo’s tal­ents in the right light. It’s not about the flash, the shock-and-awe dis­play of tech­nique. It’s about his ability–as Dave Grohl echoes below–to “sit in the song” and “find the right feel,” true to the phi­los­o­phy that some­times less is more.


Thanks Dirk for send­ing this our way. And thanks Ringo for putting on a great show in Marin on Sat­ur­day night.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book and BlueSky.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

John Cleese, Ringo Starr and Peter Sell­ers Trash Price­less Art (1969)

Watch the Evo­lu­tion of Ringo Starr, Dave Grohl, Tré Cool & 19 Oth­er Drum­mers in Short 5‑Minute Videos

Hear the Bea­t­les Play Their Final Con­cert (August 29, 1966)

The Neu­ro­science of Drum­ming: Researchers Dis­cov­er the Secrets of Drum­ming & The Human Brain

Iso­lat­ed Drum Tracks From Six of Rock’s Great­est: Bon­ham, Moon, Peart, Copeland, Grohl & Starr

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Hear the Brilliant Guitar Work of Charlie Christian, Inventor of the Electric Guitar Solo (1939)

On a recent vis­it to Seattle’s Muse­um of Pop­u­lar Cul­ture (for­mer­ly EMP), I found myself trans­fixed for well over an hour by the Gui­tar Gallery, a ver­i­ta­ble shrine for gui­tar play­ers, with “55 vin­tage, world chang­ing gui­tars from the 1770s to the present.” In addi­tion to illus­trat­ing a few hun­dred years of music his­to­ry, the exhib­it rep­re­sents the slow devel­op­ment of the elec­tric gui­tar, and the many ungain­ly stages in-between. What we learn in study­ing the his­to­ry is that gui­tar inno­va­tions have always been play­er-dri­ven.

Gui­tarists have mod­i­fied and built their own gui­tars, and many have tak­en mod­els and adapt­ed them so ful­ly to their style that they become icon­ic main­stays as oth­er mod­els drop away. Such is the case with the ES-150, Gibson’s first “Elec­tric Span­ish” arch­top gui­tar, and its most famous play­er, Char­lie Chris­t­ian, who has inspired some of the best-known gui­tarists in jazz, like Bar­ney Kessel and Wes Mont­gomery, and who also may have invent­ed the elec­tric gui­tar solo. Gib­son goes so far as to bestow on Chris­t­ian the hon­orif­ic of “the first gui­tar hero.”

Before Chris­t­ian, gui­tar soloists in jazz ensem­bles and orches­tras were rare, since the acoustic instru­ment couldn’t be heard loud­ly enough over horns, wood­winds, dou­ble bass, and drums. The first elec­tric gui­tar, the “Fry­ing Pan,” arrived in 1931, built for Hawai­ian jazz lap steel play­ers. Rapid devel­op­ment of the elec­tric pick­up pro­ceed­ed through­out the decade, and Chris­t­ian bought his ES-150 the year after it went into pro­duc­tion in 1936.

By 1938, when he had found steady work at a club in Bis­mar­ck, North Dako­ta, “a local music store dis­played the Gib­son ES-150 with a sign read­ing ‘As fea­tured by Char­lie Chris­t­ian.’” By this point, writes Riff Inter­ac­tive, Chris­t­ian was “a region­al hero.”

In 1939, Chris­t­ian joined the Ben­ny Good­man orches­tra, but the sto­ry of his audi­tion tells us as much about the elec­tric guitar’s impor­tance as it does about Christian’s play­ing. It seems that “Good­man was ini­tial­ly unim­pressed” by Christian’s strum­ming of an “unam­pli­fied rhythm gui­tar behind ‘Tea for Two.’” (hear him play the song, elec­tri­fied, below.) But when jazz impre­sario John Ham­mond snuck him and his elec­tric gui­tar onstage with Goodman’s Quin­tet lat­er at the Vic­tor Hugo Restau­rant, “Chris­t­ian matched Good­man riff for riff and impro­vised over 20 cho­rus­es. He was hired on the spot.” He could play some of Djan­go Rein­hardt’s most dif­fi­cult songs note-for-note, and “many of the fig­ures he worked into his solos evolved lat­er into Ben­ny Good­man tunes.”

“Some argue he wasn’t the first” elec­tric soloist, writes the site Jus­tice through Music, but “he made the elec­tric gui­tar lead solo ‘pop­u­lar,’ and in essence ‘invent­ed’ it,” lead­ing the way for “Eric Clap­ton, Jim­my Page, Bud­dy Guy, Eddie Van Halen and all the great gui­tar shred­ders.” Jazz crit­ic Kevin White­head agrees, telling Ter­ry Gross that Chris­t­ian “was the sin­gle great­est influ­ence on the sig­na­ture 20th cen­tu­ry instru­ment, the elec­tric gui­tar, even though he died at age 25 and did all his record­ing in under two years.”

Begin­ning in his home­town of Okla­homa City as a ukulele play­er, Chris­t­ian picked up many of his “sling­shot rhythms” on the gui­tar from sax­o­phon­ist Lester Young (hear him play with Young just above). “Ampli­fied slide gui­tarists in white west­ern swing bands showed Chris­t­ian how elec­tric gui­tar could project,” White­head notes. “He wasn’t the first elec­tric pick­er who played on the frets. He dug Chica­go pio­neer George Barnes. But Chris­t­ian had the most impos­ing sound.”

We have a rep­re­sen­ta­tive sam­pling of the impos­ing sound of Chris­t­ian and his ES-150 in the record­ings here. At the top of the post, hear him live with Good­man (who intro­duces him as “our new dis­cov­ery, Charles Chris­t­ian”) in 1939, play­ing “Fly­ing Home.” Fur­ther down lis­ten to “Rose Room” with Goodman’s Sex­tet, with whom he made most of his records, White­head tells us, “compet[ing] for space with oth­er good soloists.” Fur­ther down, hear Chris­t­ian play “Stompin’ at the Savoy” live at Minton’s in 1941 and “Tea for Two” with Jer­ry Jerome in 1939.

Fur­ther up, in “Solo Flight” with Goodman’s orches­tra, Chris­t­ian demon­strates his “impec­ca­ble” tim­ing and “heavy, front-loaded attack” in a two-and-a-half-minute show­case. Christian’s phe­nom­e­nal play­ing “inspired untold jazz, blues, and rock-gui­tar play­ers.” In some of his last record­ings, before his death from tuber­cu­lo­sis in 1942, he “laid the ground­work for the new music that Chris­t­ian start­ed call­ing bebop.” Hear him reshape the sound of jazz with Dizzy Gille­spie, Thelo­nious Monk, Don Byas, and Ken­ny Clarke above in “Groovin’ High.” “You can hear a lot of guitar’s future com­ing” in these record­ings, White­head argues, “Chuck Berry includ­ed.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Behold the First Elec­tric Gui­tar: The 1931 “Fry­ing Pan”

Jazz ‘Hot’: The Rare 1938 Short Film With Jazz Leg­end Djan­go Rein­hardt

The Sto­ry of the Gui­tar: The Com­plete Three-Part Doc­u­men­tary

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Watch the Evolution of Ringo Starr, Dave Grohl, Tré Cool & 19 Other Drummers in Short 5‑Minute Videos

I’ve always been more than hap­py to admit that I think Ringo Starr is a fan­tas­tic drum­mer and don’t find it much worth argu­ing over. Then again, more and more peo­ple seem to have come around to that point of view. Or at least that’s been my expe­ri­ence. Maybe it has some­thing to do with the length of expo­sure. Once you’ve lived with the Bea­t­les’ music for, say, twen­ty to fifty years, you’d had a lot of time to reflect on your favorite songs, or favorite moments (like the break­downs in “Hel­lo, Good­bye” and “Straw­ber­ry Fields,” for exam­ple). A lot of time to appre­ci­ate just how well so many of those songs, and Ringo’s drum­ming, have aged.

But not all of them. I haven’t always found the very ear­ly Bea­t­les albums to hold up well for me. There’s some­thing about… well… okay, maybe Ringo wasn’t always a great drum­mer. But he became one. The thing about a ret­ro­spec­tive appre­ci­a­tion is that it’s high­ly selec­tive.

How­ev­er, if we were to select ele­ments of Ringo’s tech­nique from songs span­ning the whole of his Bea­t­les career, we would be able to see how his play­ing refined from 1962 to 1995, when he made his last record­ings with George, Paul, and John—who left sev­er­al home demo tapes over which his band­mates lay­ered har­monies and rhythms. (Hear “Free as a Bird” from those ses­sions here.)

You could take the time to edit togeth­er sev­er­al sec­onds, chrono­log­i­cal­ly, of famous Bea­t­les songs through­out the six­ties and sev­en­ties. Or you could do that and play all those parts your­self, and shoot and edit a thor­ough­ly engag­ing, high-qual­i­ty video of your­self play­ing them. That’s what Kye Smith does in the videos here, part of a long series of 22 exer­cis­es he calls “5 Minute Drum Chronol­o­gy.” As you’ll see in his Bea­t­les video at the top, Smith has made some very thought­ful selec­tions from the canon, show­ing how thor­ough­ly ver­sa­tile Ringo’s play­ing became; how well he came to under­stand nuanced dynam­ics: when to attack and when not to play at all.

In his Nir­vana “5 Minute Drum Chronol­o­gy,” above, Smith not only dupli­cates the huge, boom­ing sound of Dave Grohl’s drumk­it, but he also per­fect­ly cap­tures Grohl’s tremen­dous ener­gy. With the focus square­ly on the drums, Grohl (through Smith) seems even more the hard­core punk drum­mer that he was for years before he joined Nir­vana. But by the time we get to “You Know You’re Right,” the last song the band record­ed in 1994, we see how he had dis­cov­ered a much lighter touch as well, one he devel­oped even fur­ther as a drum­mer for indie stars like Cat Pow­er.

Smith’s oth­er twen­ty 5 Minute Drum Chronolo­gies track bands who made it in the nineties, like The Off­spring, NOFX, Blink-182, and Foo Fight­ers. In many cas­es, none but ardent fans will know the drum­mers of these bands or have a sense of their full discog­ra­phy. But at least by the time we get to their break­out 1994 album Dook­ie, many of us will be famil­iar with a song or two from all of Green Day’s releas­es. And we’re like­ly to know the name and face of drum­mer Tré Cool. (The band’s first drum­mer, Al Sobrante, takes up the first 20 sec­onds of the video above.)

Is Tré Cool a drum­mer who has evolved over the years, devel­oped bet­ter feel and more finesse? At least the way Kye Smith plays him. Smith is such a tal­ent­ed drum­ming impres­sion­ist that one can look away and for­get that it’s him on the drums and not Cool. Which rais­es oth­er crit­i­cal issues with the impres­sive arti­fice of these chronolo­gies. These are, of course, inter­pre­ta­tions. And in any case, musi­cians have good nights and bad nights, great takes and not so great takes, and their style might vary more across a sin­gle album than between songs on dif­fer­ent records.

And in the case of a band like the Red Hot Chili Pep­pers, we’ve seen three dif­fer­ent drum­mers by the time the band released their fourth album, Mother’s Milk and took on high­ly skilled Will Fer­rell looka­like Chad Smith. Nonethe­less, Kye Smith gives us a lot to chew on as we watch, by proxy, these drum­mers adapt to the evo­lu­tion of their bands’ song­writ­ing. Some of those jour­neys are nat­u­ral­ly more inter­est­ing than oth­ers. See the com­plete col­lec­tion of 22 5 Minute Drum Chronolo­gies here, or down below.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Neu­ro­science of Drum­ming: Researchers Dis­cov­er the Secrets of Drum­ming & The Human Brain

Iso­lat­ed Drum Tracks From Six of Rock’s Great­est: Bon­ham, Moon, Peart, Copeland, Grohl & Starr

The Fun­da­men­tals of Jazz & Rock Drum­ming Explained in Five Cre­ative Min­utes

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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