A Tall Tale.

One of the more popular topics in drum geek lore involves two very influential drummers, both of whom have earned a place in drumming history.

One of those drummers you may have heard of: A guy by the name of Ringo Starr. He used to play in a band called Wings . . . whoops . . . strike that, he was in a band called The Beatles which was the band Paul McCartney was in before Wings. (And if I have to explain who Paul McCartney is you probably shouldn’t be reading this).

The other drummer is a fella by the name of Bernard Purdie. Mr. Purdie is a very successful studio musician with an impressive list of credits to his name. Even if you exclude his exemplary work with Aretha Franklin, James Brown, King Curtis, Steely Dan and countless others, his place in the history books is cemented with his popularization of the Purdie Shuffle drum beat. This distinctive beat has been utilized by everyone from John Bonham (“Fool In The Rain” by Led Zepellin, a song they might have actually wrote instead of plagiarized), Jeff Porcaro (“Rossana” by Toto) and, more recently, Jason McGerr (“Grapevine Fires” by Death Cab for Cutie).

Unfortunately Bernard will also be remembered for his claims that he was secretly hired to replace Ringo on as many as 21 early Beatle recordings and was paid a large sum of money to keep his mouth shut. As near as I can tell Bernard first made this claim in Max Weinberg’s book “The Big Beat” which was originally published in 1984. When pressed for details Bernard plays coy and insists he is keeping the details secret until he writes his book, which will reveal all and make him oodles of money. (But Bernard, weren’t you well paid to keep your mouth shut?)

So, what’s wrong with this picture?

If nothing else it demonstrates that one does not want to pay Bernard Purdie to keep his mouth shut but there are other, more practical reasons to doubt Bernard’s ludicrous story.

Doubt #1)
Up until The Beatles recorded “The Beatles” (AKA: “The White Album”) in 1968, they were working on four-track recording technology with the earliest recordings captured on two track machines. EMI, their recording company and owners of EMI/Abbey Road studios, were notoriously tight-fisted and shortsighted and the studio was saddled with outdated technology for most of the Beatles’ recording career. There are a small handful of well-documented Beatle songs with other drummers, basically Andy White one on song and Paul “Do-it-All” McCartney on a few others, but Bernard’s name appears nowhere in the exhaustively researched history of Beatle recording sessions.     

Recording to two or four tracks requires that multiple instruments be recorded on one track or one section of the tape. As a result you might have the entire rhythm section (bass, guitar, piano, drums) on one track and the rest of the performances on the other track(s).

And here is where Bernard’s story begins to unravel a bit since it would be impossible to replace Ringo’s drum track without replacing everything else on that track as well. Now, one can argue that Ringo’s abilities easy to replace and improve (I don’t buy that argument, by the way) but the other Beatles had very distinctive playing styles so if Bernard replaced Ringo’s work, who replaced George, John and Paul’s work?

At the very most someone could have augmented Ringo’s playing by bouncing the existing tracks to a single track and recording drums or percussion on the open track. That makes no sense because Ringo’s supposedly poor playing would still be evident along with the “better” playing by Bernard and anyone who has ever recorded knows you rarely improve a performance by throwing more stuff on top of it, especially a rhythm track.     

Doubt #2)
Remember EMI and their tight-fisted ways? When the Beatles were first signed to EMI, pop music was considered cheap and disposable and the Beatles were so far down the list that they were shuttled off to the budget Parlaphone imprint. Why would EMI agree to throw good money after bad to fix the drum tracks on a crummy little pop band recording? Twenty-one times. And even if they did make that decision, why would they go to the trouble and expense to have this work done in the US by an American drummer when there were plenty of capable studio drummers in London and probably even some already on the EMI payroll.

There are two plausible explanations left.

One.
The biggest stretch is that Bernard was hired to augment some old and/or obscure Beatle recordings by other labels looking to cash in on the band’s early success. This scenario has quite a few serious complications but, to give Bernard the benefit of the doubt, let’s at least consider it.   
 
Two.
Bernard Purdie ran his mouth a wee bit faster than his brain. Once the story got out his ego wouldn’t let him admit his fib and he continued to fuel the flames by insisting that it was true.

I'm apt to go with door number two. It seems Bernard Purdie is not content with his own tremendous legacy and feels the need to take extra with this absurd story. It doesn't lessen his great contributions to our drumming lexicon and he isn't the only studio musician taking credit for someone else's work, but it is a sad character flaw that will dog him for a very long time.