In Defense of Ron Bushy

The first thing you may be asking yourself is: Who the [expletive] is Ron Bushy? And then you may wonder: Why the [you-know-what] does he need to be defended?

To answer the first part: Ron Bushy is the drummer for 60's psychedelic band Iron Butterfly, most known for the song In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, a 17-minute acid trip which highlights a solo by Bushy.

Why does he need to be defended? Well, I don’t know that he really needs to be defended, but it's the topic of this blog post. As always, bear with me.

I've known a number of musicians in my life, many of them quite accomplished; I have a lot of respect and admiration for the art of creating music. In my next life, I hope to be a musician.

When it comes to judging other musicians, musicians can be harsh, critical dicks. I can't count how many times I've heard Pearl Jam dissed in conversation. Or Deep Purple's Smoke on the Water. And I know drummers who think Bushy's In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida solo is a joke.

Musically, the psychedelic era is one of my favorites. The Animals. Jefferson Airplane. The Moody Blues. I love Iron Butterfly's In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida: the fuzz of Brann’s guitar; Doug Ingle's voice and keyboards; Bushy's drums.

Ron Bushy is a competent drummer. He has good meter and can sustain it; meaning: he can keep a beat. His playing is clean, not sloppy, and his style is wholly compatible to the heavy tones of Iron Butterfly, and perfect for the raw, primal nature of In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida. What I like most about the song is the narrative arc it follows, like a well-told story. The primitive themes are introduced right away. Then, after a brief keyboard solo by Ingle, and (I must admit, uninspired) guitar solo by the young Brann who finishes strong with powerful fuzz tones, Bushy begins thumping out his crude, but effective, pounding - like the thundering of ceremonial drums from an ancient civilization. His solo settles into a steady beat resembling a calming heart and transitions us into the next chapter, so to speak, as Ingle comes in with the ethereal, cathedral-like sound of his keyboard. Bushy changes up the tempo slightly, and Ingle builds tension with minor chords, cresting and falling multiple times (the bassist, Lee Dorman, isn't too shabby here, either), teasing false climaxes until the drums once again become primal and Brann returns with some screaming, hot pick scraping before the song returns to its initial theme.

I wouldn't say the members of Iron Butterfly are the most technically skilled; you would never have heard any of them playing with Frank Zappa (who was known to hire and develop the most exceptional musicians, whether it be guitar, xylophones or drums - and, man, has he played with some amazing drummers!), but who cares. What’s important is that their music was effective.

In the end, isn't that what really matters?

Somerset Maugham can sum it up best here (and help me finally tie this post in with writing): "If you can tell stories, create characters, devise incidents, and have sincerity and passion, it doesn't matter a damn how you write."

Or, I would add, how you play music.

So, drummers of the world, stop picking on Ron!

Gordon Gravley