John Cage prophesied in his famous speech “The Future of Music: Credo” that “percussion music is a contemporary transition from keyboard influenced music to the all sound music of the future.” This declaration speaks to the central role that the drums have always played in pushing music into unexplored territories.
On his latest album nothing, drummer Louis Cole fuses his trademark funk-tronic fusion style with the symphonic sounds of the historic Metropole Orkest, conducted by Jules Buckley. The result is a unique synthesis of modern and classical textures and a very moving musical experience. I had the opportunity to speak to Cole this fall about the underlying philosophy of the project and what led him to this point in his career.
There is a moment from the official live performance of “nothing.” The shot cuts to you, crouched down in the middle of this beautiful orchestra, and you have this look of intense concentration. Coming from a bedroom producer background, how did it feel to see your compositions be brought to life on such a grand scale?
Yeah, man. In that moment, I was definitely feeling like “This is finally happening.” I’ve been listening to and dreaming about making music for an orchestra for so long. I really tried to put everything I had into the music. I was really happy with that particular song too that you mentioned, “nothing.” I’ve been trying to write a song like that where . . . it’s so hard to describe. Certain songs are special. They hit the seam of something that has weight to it, but is also really, really simple and melodic. I’ve been trying to write a song like that for probably 10 or 12 years. I never really felt like I was able to until I wrote “nothing” It just kind of happened.
How did your perspective as a drummer shape the way that you approached composing an album like nothing, where many of the tracks do not feature percussion?
I was just thinking about this the other day. Obviously, since drums is my main instrument, sometimes I start the writing process with a beat, but I write everything on a keyboard. That’s the easiest instrument to lay out compositions on. I think it’s cool that I don’t write on my main instrument. It takes me a little bit longer, because I have to search around for stuff. At this point I know what I like and what sounds good, but I still can’t sit down at a piano and just play something great. A lot of times I’ll sit down at a piano and I’ll just sound really stupid. It’s like a mysterious world to me every time. I think it’s actually helped me as opposed to hurt me.
What was the writing process for this album?
I had all these ideas stored up in my head for if I ever wrote for an orchestra. I think the first thing I did was write down all of them and describe in detail any kind of musical content that they actually had. I would write something like, “Fast song with chords that go upwards that feel sad, but there’s a melody that sounds like triads.” Then I recorded a bunch of drum beats and started writing on top of them. Unless it’s a drumless song, of course. There are actually a lot of them on this record. I was just really, really excited to know that my lo-fi demo was going to sound a lot better with a real orchestra. That excitement guided me through the process.
This is one of the most mature albums that attempt to blend a more modern sound with an orchestra that I am aware of. Were you attempting to break new ground?
Yeah, definitely. Thank you. I was talking about this with my aunt. She played violin in the Seattle Symphony. She said that when they performed newer projects combining drums and “modern-whatever” with an orchestra, it always felt like the arrangements were added in as an afterthought. I connected with that. I wanted to avoid that when I was writing this stuff. I wanted everything to be featured: drums, bass, keyboards, guitars, singers, of course – but especially the orchestra. I wanted to actually write something heavy for that whole group. When classical music gets heavy, it’s the coolest music out there. I couldn’t allow myself to write some watery crap for this orchestra. You can’t treat it like an expensive synthesizer. It has to be written for in a way that’s caring. It’s a rare thing, but it does happen. There are greater arrangers who are able to write for both groups. I wanted to write something on that level, but with my own sound and a modern edge to it, I guess.
What was it like bringing modern compositions to an orchestra of classically trained musicians?
Well, there was definitely some back and forth in the lead up. They saw my arrangements at first and they were like, “Oh, these . . . these aren’t going to work.” They were real rigid in their ways at first. The conductor, Jules Buckley told me, “You have to earn their trust.” I just had to explain that it’s supposed to be a little bit crunchy or edgy at points. It’s supposed to be weird, you know? Eventually once we got through that, we saw the end goal together. It was very, very nice and easy and pleasant to work with them. You know . . . it’s funny. They’re an orchestra, but when I brought in anything classical like “Ludovici Cole Est Frigus,” Jules would tell me that they never play that stuff. That song was my attempt at writing something that sounded very classical. I was looking on YouTube for them playing any kind of classical stuff, and I don’t know if I found any at all. It’s kind of funny.
When did you discover classical music, and whose music influenced this project?
My dad used to listen to classical all the time. I was constantly around it as a kid. I usually thought it was boring, though. It wasn’t until later on when I started to really appreciate it. I love Mahler, and Bach, and Mozart. I love Ligeti and Lauridsen and Hindemeth . . . I love Hindemith. Oh – Chopin also. Classical isn’t something I listen to all the time. I just really, really appreciate it. It’s been an influence on my writing for sure. It reaches levels of depth and heaviness that is beyond a lot of music that people talk about.
It’s really interesting to see a project of this scale from you, since I have always admired your DIY background. I notice a very minimal drum recording setup in most of your videos. What’s your go to bedroom drum recording set up?
There’s a couple of things I think. Muting the snare with a piece of metal is something that’s given me a particular sound I like. It maintains the punch of the drum, but it also doesn’t take away too much tone. I don’t actually know why it sounds good, but it sounds good. A lot of times I’ll have a snare mic on the top of the snare. I’ll boost the mids a little bit on that. And then here’s the other thing that I really love . . . I’ll have a mic aimed at side of the snare drum, between the kick drum and the floor tom. That one mic picks up the whole drum set, but it really adds a common punch between the kick and the snare. It’s like they’re together working together. That’s my number one favorite microphone position. If I only have one mic on a drum set, that’s where I put it.
I read you used to practice on a toy drum kit. What is the philosophy behind using minimalist or crappy gear?
It’s like working on your biceps instead of buying a more flattering shirt. I wanted the thing that I already had to sound better as opposed to buying new things. The snare itself matters some degree . . . and some shirts will bring out your biceps for sure. For me, it’s more about how I hit the drum, how I tune the drum, and mix or record the drum. When I’m on tour, the most important thing for me is what kind of drum head is on the kick. If it’s a coated Ambassador head, everything’s going to be fine. Then I can play like the worst cymbals ever. It’s not so much about having like super fancy stuff.
Why did you first start uploading your music to YouTube, and how has that influenced the path your career has taken?
I was talking to my friend Jack Conte, who founded Patreon. I was playing gigs and taking night school classes on film composing. I didn’t even know if I wanted to do that. I just didn’t really know what I was doing. He looked directly in my face and said “Louie, man, you have to upload your music on YouTube; You can have a career in music.” I thought that success was for these predestined, golden people who were just in a different tier than me in life. I thought I was going to be a musician that nobody knows about. That one conversation changed my whole life. That was really the turning point right there. After that, I never looked back. I realized pursuing a career in music was the only option for me. I don’t think I’d be happy doing anything else.
The success was surprising. I believed in my music, but I didn’t believe other people would like it. It took me a really long time, maybe eight or nine years. I’m telling you my work ethic was insane. It still is, but it was insane back then. I was obsessed. I think it came from a really overall very healthy place, but oh my God . . . I would just be at my computer or my drums or my keyboard all day. I was trying to develop and discover and reach levels that I didn’t know existed.
What is the importance of a strong, solid work ethic for younger musicians trying to develop their art form?
The main thing is the vision. I’m coming up with an analogy . . . maybe it sucks. It’s like if you dump some water onto flat mud versus mud with a riverbed dug out. The riverbed will get that water really far, but the flat mud will just form a puddle. If you have a channel dug out in your mind or your spirit of what you want to achieve, everything flows from there.
I was aiming for the best music of all time – the most perfect, incredible, emotional music in every genre. I was also thinking about the best drummers of all time and trying to be like them. That’s the vision. Once I had that vision, a work ethic just made sense. When you have a vision, work doesn’t just go into the ether, it goes towards something.
I was lucky. The vision became clear to me. For some people, that’s not the case. That’s okay. Just know some of your time should just be spent consciously thinking about what your vision is like – what you’re actually trying to reach for. I’m trying to see what I’m capable of and see what level I can get to because that’s really . . . my purpose here.
Graphic by Kyra Reilly