Phil Gould: The drummer who pushed Neil Peart to his limits
Throughout rock history, there aren’t too many drummers that Neil Peart couldn’t match note-for-note. Although there had been some intense people behind the skins before Peart had even started, the amount of time he would spend beating the life out of every single element of his kit felt like watching a rabid dog and a carefully calculated machine working in sync with each other. Peart may have practised his fair share of Keith Moon and John Bonham fills, but he believed Phil Gould was one of the best examples of tasteful drumming.
Because if there’s one thing that artists struggle with more than anything, it’s restraint. There might be ample opportunities to do whatever you want when you get when it comes time for a fill, but the best drummers know how to play what suits the song, hence the reason why Ringo Starr is known as one of the best rock drummers for those Beatles recordings.
Rush always tended to work a little differently. Peart may have written most of the lyrics once he joined, but his drum parts were his mini-version of songwriting. He could hold down a groove when he wanted to, but it often felt like Alex Lifeson provided the foundation for a handful of songs while Peart and Geddy Lee played the most outlandish lines imaginable.
So…how the hell does someone like Peart see any interest in Gould? Sure, Gould had an impressive set of chops and could keep time fairly well, but the amount of flashiness he put into his songs with Level 42 tends to be fairly sparse. Even when he does a fill, it’s usually about keeping a tight pocket with the rest of the rhythm section rather than showing his massive ego through his drum set.
Peart was always willing to learn from every drummer that came across his radar, but even he had trouble understanding what Gould was doing half the time, telling Rhythm Magazine, “I love to listen to Phil Gould of Level 42. Just for the way he keeps the beat. He puts the backbeat so far back you can hardly believe it. When I try to just tap along with one of their songs, I just about break my arm trying to get the beat that far back”.
When you’ve been playing the kind of prog epics that Peart was used to playing, it makes sense why he would struggle. While Peart could play the exact right tempo down to the last drum hit, laying back into a groove is something you feel rather than study, which would probably be the equivalent of learning how to walk again for most drummers.
That’s the kind of art that comes from artists like Bernard Purdie. As much as he had chops to keep up with any Steely Dan session, he knew how to lean the beat just far back enough to make everything sound smooth. Gould practically speaks that same language, usually focusing on making a kind of hypnotic bounce rather than making something that will make rhythm nerds geek out whenever he plays a fill.
It seemed like Peart listened to the lessons Gould taught him, eventually working with Freddie Gruber when he discovered his playing was getting slightly stiff in the 1990s. It’s one thing to be able to play the best performances on the drums, but it’s as much a part about doing a dance behind the drums as it is about making the most intricate part possible.
