James Jamerson, the virtuosic Motown bassist, probably did more for the success of the label than anyone. There are several reasons for this, the most vital being that music is usually "polarized" in nature, by that I mean that the melody or soprano voice (on top) and the bass line (on the bottom) are the two most active parts in the majority of music. The inner voices, the alto and tenor, have their moments certainly, but for the most part their role is to fill in the middle in the most sonorous way possible. Ergo, the two most important musicians on most pop records are the singer and the bassist. Now Motown's singers have become among the most famous in history (Stevie Wonder, Diana Ross, Smokey Robinson, Michael Jackson, Marvin Gaye, etc.), but the musicians who played on the records didn't. There was an attempt at redressing the situation with the 2002 film, Standing in the Shadows of Motown (which took its title from a 1989 book about Jamerson's life and work), and it did to a large degree - it's a great movie, by the way - but it came too late for many of the musicians, and particularly the most accomplished and most important artist on the label's roster. I'll be writing more on him in the days ahead, but for now here's a good example of his brilliance: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2JmVrkRcTgo

The role of the bass in a band, in music in general, is crucial. The bass part is similar to a planet - in that it exerts a gravitational pull on the other parts, which can perhaps leap or even occasionally fly, but not escape. In fact, one of the elements that gives music its powerful emotional force is the gravitational or magnetic attraction between the bass and the rest of the instrumentation. Therefore, it is not a surprise that, like Motown with James Jamerson, the best player in the Beatles was the bassist. Ringo Starr once called Paul McCartney the most melodic of bass players, which is succinct and true; his playing always has a singing quality (cf. Duke Ellington who used to ask his band, after they had played something new, if everyone liked their parts). It was an irreplaceable element of the Beatles' music, in whatever style they explored. The two most notable tracks on Starr's recent release, Y Not (2010), both feature McCartney: one as a singer and the other as a bassist. On the former, "Walk with You", it is interesting to hear him in a duet with Ringo. The Beatles rarely used this device, in the sense where more than one singer can be clearly identified as singing from their own personality. Usually, there was a lead vocal performance with the identity of the singer easy to hear, and the others providing backing with the singers much harder to pinpoint. It was amazing, and I don't know how they did it. But on this track, it's clearly Ringo and Paul singing together (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c68v6WIZeRI). The other track is called "Peace Dream", and it's a wonderful treat to hear the great rhythm section together again. Also, check out the very cool references to Lennon and Harrison, via both lyrical and guitar allusions: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UE7ju4lU2W0

Stevie Wonder's Fulfillingness' First Finale (1974) might be the greatest r&b album of all time. The writing, arranging, singing, and playing are all at a level best described as unmatched. The album should be listened to as a suite (i.e. without interruption), and taken as a model for anyone involved in music - including listeners. The album (as the title suggests) is a sort of culmination of the years of work that preceded it - especially his time spent with the musicians of the Motown studio band known as The Funk Brothers. The influence of these musicians, and particularly the genius bassist, James Jamerson, can be heard throughout this record. I think it's clear that the record was intended, partially at least, as a tribute, and that's why Jamerson appears on only one track, "Too Shy to Say". (For a more representative example of Jamerson's work with Wonder, listen to "Hello, Young Lovers" on Ma Cherie Amour from 1969.) I'll be writing more on both of these giants in posts to come.

Howdy. Further to yesterday's discussion: The ability to maintain tempo, even as intensity rises or falls, is much more difficult than it sounds. It's a bit like the way that draftsmen can draw very straight lines freehand - much practice required. The greatest musicians in any style are always the ones with this quality. Glenn Gould, Jimi Hendrix, James Jamerson, John Coltrane, Ringo Starr. You can hear it in the music. The spaces between the notes are beautiful, thrilling, awe-inspiring. The difficulty in finding musicians capable of playing like this has unfortunately led to pop music essentially being played by machines. This might pass for a while - i.e. the time it takes for teenagers to buy a product en masse, make people famous, etc. but ultimately music made this way will not have the staying power of music played by humans.
So back to the Stones - to their credit, they know how good Charlie is, and at their best, they play with him. When they run into trouble, they don't. Sometimes, the band starts very strongly and then gets a bit out of control ("rushes", in Musician) as the track goes along. Sometimes they don't lock in with him at all.
On the Stones' website, there's a video of Charlie talking about jazz drumming, where he discusses, almost apologetically, the fact that what he knows he learned from copying, and he speaks with the humility found in all great musicians. But this is how all serious musicians learn. One of the paradoxes involved in music, and the other arts as well, is that the more copying someone has done, the more originality they end up contributing. (For a literary parallel, read T.S. Eliot's "Tradition and the Individual Talent".) This also leads to the aforementioned humility.
Suggested listening: "Bitch", "A Day in the Life", "Little Wing", "My Favorite Things","Ain't No Mountain High Enough" (Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell), The Goldberg Variations 1981 (cf. 1955).