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Imagining Things

Rock Band in Search of Hit Single

December 25, 2022 by Klugmeister

It was a tough situation for the band. Their seven previous albums had charted reasonably well, and they'd built up a following in the bay area, but hit singles had been hard to come by. A 1968 single peaked at No. 94 on the charts. So far that was the highest chart position they'd ever reached for a single, and the record company had just broken the bad news that album number eight had better produce a hit single or their music career was over. In that setting, the guys were gathering to rehearse and record material for the new album.

There'd been some recent changes to the band's lineup, and lead singer Steve had already removed the word "blues" from the band's name in order to broaden the group's appeal. He planned to gravitate away from the psychedelic blues vibe that had been the band's signature sound since Steve formed the band in San Francisco after moving there from Chicago. He was shooting for a more mainstream, popular rock sound.

This image of a "drum kit" was created by Klugmeister with help from no one.

The guys began rehearsal at around noon. The recording studio staff noticed that John, the band's drummer, seemed a bit out of sorts. Was he nervous over the pressure to produce a hit? Was he drunk or high? John was clicking his drum sticks together and seemed very eager to record some new music or wrestle an alligator.

Steve had written a fun song with whimsical lyrics, including a few lines that he'd lifted from a 1954 song by The Clovers. The song had a catchy bass line and some meandering slide guitar. The vibe was like Going Up the Country meets Don't Worry, Be Happy. As they began the recording, Steve didn't have high expectations for the song.

Twenty seconds into the rehearsal of the new song, something didn't feel right. One of the guys in the control room stopped the recording. Steve asked, "Do you feel all right, John?"

John answered, "I feel great!!"

Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! John had crashed the cymbals at least five times in the first 20 seconds of the song. That didn't seem normal, especially for a mellow song like the one they were recording. The usual approach is that serious drummers use cymbal crashes only sparingly, even on more upbeat, raucous songs. For whatever reason, John was also crashing the cymbals during quiet parts of the song where the smashes really stood out like a sore thumb. The timing of the crashes also seemed a bit random, like they weren't happening on the usual beat.

Steve looked into the control room and got a shrug in response. He decided to press on with the recording and see where it led. They could always have a chat with John later and rerecord the track if needed. "Take two," he called.

John continued with the enthusiastic use of cymbal crashes throughout the song. He even included some wild threesomes (a term we just coined for three crashes in a row) that seemed as if they were being played by an eight-year-old who'd just gotten a new drum kit for Christmas and didn't know how to spell restraint, much less use it. To be honest, the cymbal crashes seemed more like something from a Saturday Night Live spoof than from a real song. Would this unusual cymbal usage go over like a turd in a punch bowl, or would other drummers copy from The New Style? Was it buffoonery or genius? Only time would tell...

Ultimately, the band ended up sticking with the seemingly excessive and randomly timed crashes, and released the song as a single in late 1973.

The song, The Joker, was a No. 1 hit for the Steve Miller Band in early 1974.