Chris Corsano Interview: “Collaboration is essential for me.”

There is no one better attuned to collaboration than Chris Corsano.

Since the turn of the century, the Catskill-based drummer has been the focal point to so many crucial releases from the world of improvisation: to the point where there are simply too many to mention without writing a book about. (It’s a surprise that no one has.)

Corsano’s splintered, maze-like percussion has seen him weld together the origins of jazz, punk, free-folk and blues to great effect. While his work during Six Organs of Admittance’s most celebrate years (led by 2005’s School of the Flower) was arguably the entrance for many into Corsano’s sound world, there has been a swathe of other watershed moments since.

Also with a number of solo releases under his belt, there’s been the longstanding noise trade-offs with saxophonist Paul Flaherty, the sonic bedlam alongside Sir Richard Bishop and Ben Chasny as Rangda and, more recently, the mesmerising voyages with Bill Orcutt and Michael Flower as the Flower-Corsano Duo. There is more, of course, all of which has thrust Corsano into the spotlight as one of the best improvised drummers on the planet.

Once again, this is highlighted on his latest solo album, The Key (Became the Important Thing [& Then Just Faded Away]).

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Performed on a bespoke kit with the main component being Corsano’s string-drum, the set-up is primarily designed to capture different tones and vibrations. The results are fascinating, with Corsano creating an exploding form of blues punk that rifles from the speakers. There’s power. There’s pace. There’s precision. Capturing the same intensity that has made the Flower-Corsano Duo what it is, in a solo capacity there’s no let up with something that is equally delightful and deranged.

Starting with I Don’t Have Missions. What begins with something likened to the metallic, junkyard assault of Tom Waits’ Bone Machine quickly transforms into a jam-like freak-out somewhere between Can and the hellraising blues of MC5.

Collapsed in Four Parts is arguably the shining beacon of Corsano’s unique drum set-up. Noise that comes at you from every angle in what is a blistering thunderclap that could moves planets. Meanwhile Empty Box and Everything I Tried to Understand  sees Corsano taking afro-beat to frightening extremes. Pieces that crash and bang with all the ferocity of whiplash. Corsano’s performance, nimble, steadfast and delivered at lightening speed.

In all its no-holds-barred glory, The Key (Became the Important Thing [& Then Just Faded Away]) is an album that cleans out the ears. A wicked brew of blues punk and freeform psychedelia that is one of the finest improvised records of the year.

Having recently toured the U.K with experimental noise merchants, Earthball, via email Corsano took time to answer our questions about his creative process, The Key (Became the Important Thing [& Then Just Faded Away], and more.

Sun 13: You recently toured around the U.K. How were those shows?

Chris Corsano: “That was a great tour! Such a blast to see Earthball tear it up night after night for 10 shows in a row. It was nice also to catch up with a lot of friends along the way who I hadn’t seen since pre-pandemic times. Leeds was extra special because I did a duo with Michael Flower, which is one of the longest running projects I’ve had, and one really close to my heart. Earthball and I may or may not have spotted Robert Plant and Alison Krauss going for a stroll on a grassy hill in Shropshire. But more importantly, I can absolutely confirm seeing Tony Irving, the fantastic drummer who played with Stefan Jaworzyn in Ascension, in Newcastle.”

S13: Firstly, was music a big part of your formative years, and do you remember the moment when you wanted to make drumming the focal point of your life?

CC: “I started playing drums when I was about 13. Heard The Minutemen and Bad Brains and Black Flag when I was about 15 or 16, which really opened my eyes. Then heard freely improvised music live for the first time when I was 19. All of those were steps along the way, but seeing improvising artists live like Test and Flaherty/Colbourne and William Parker absolutely sealed the deal. At the time, I didn’t really know how to fit what I was doing into an improvised context, but I just knew that I wanted to try to listen, soak up as much as possible, and figure it out. The reality of improvising is that I’m still doing that figuring-out on a show-to-show basis.”

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S13: Similarly, do you remember the first record that really rewired your brain and influenced the music you make today?

CC: “Tough question, because I could draw lines back to things like the Jimi Hendrix Experience albums I heard when I started drumming. Later would come things like Ornette Coleman’s Free Jazz, and then Coltrane’s Om, lots of Sun Ra albums, Archie Shepp’s Magic of Ju-Ju….it becomes a long list.

“Actually, as far as literal brain rewiring, Trout Mask Replica was definitely a big one. I was about 15 when my older brother turned me on to that. A little later on, I remember having a headache and blasting Trout Mask’ to see if I could over-ride the headache with something that felt even more intense. Oddly enough, it worked. So the Magic Band’s better than a fistful of paracetamol.”

S13: You’ve collaborated heavily over years. Has this generally been your first instinct and, if so, how hard is it to get out of that mindset and focus on your own music?

CC: “It could be a case of parallel instincts. Collaboration is essential for me. Everybody is a universe unto themselves, and if you’re really listening deeply to who you’re improvising with, new possibilities will be revealed to you about the future of your own musical universe. It’s an ecstatic feedback loop that’s created when improvising with somebody who’s got something to say and the ability to simultaneously incorporate what you’re doing into it.

“There’s also some kind of similar feedback process that happens in solo music, but that’s a loop between you and the materials you’re using. And/or you and the acoustics of the space you’re in. And/or you and the audience (or your perception of them). The tour I just did in the UK playing solo was a great reminder of that. Each night was different but there was still an arc of all the sets over the course of the tour based on what felt right in the room at the moment.”

S13: With regards to your process, do you work on one project at a time, or because you’re a part of so many things, is more of a case of spinning different plates and getting things done as and when?

CC: “Those plates [are] constantly spinning. Currently I’m trying to mix four different records, emailing about two different tours, on another tour right now, while doing this interview about a solo record and trying to figure out if/how/when to try to do music from the record live. It’s not always the most efficient way to go about things, but it’s the only way I know how to be.”

S13: From the recording and mixing to the artwork, you’ve undertaken everything on The Key (Became the Important Thing [& Then Just Faded Away]) – how long did it take from start to finish?

CC: “It started in spring of 2020 (except for one track which came from a long time before). It was recorded and mixed in a few months. But it was such a weird time for putting out records then – it was just a weird time across the board for everything. So, there was a little wait to move ahead with things. Then, even though it was slated to come out at an unspecified future date on Drag City, I started dragging my own feet with finalising the mix before getting it mastered. So, it was more or less done in 2020, but it took me another few years to let go enough to let it get out into the world.

“One thing that I do find different about solo work versus doing things with other musicians, is that I can start to second guess the need for a solo record to exist. Like, could this music be just for me to make for its own sake and not necessarily for other people to hear, you know? Over the intervening years, I sent files of The Key to a few friends. I think if it wasn’t for some kind words delivered at the right time from people I care about, I might’ve self-sabotaged this record into non-existence, or at least into an even longer lead-up time to its release. Ben Chasny, Kris Abplanalp, and Mick Flower were three folks in particular who, at different points, really helped me feel like it was worth seeing what happens if the album comes out.”

S13: What was the main aspect you wanted to capture with the record?

CC: “A few different things, all laid on top of each other. It’s a picture of where I was at. A collection of some of the sounds I was experimenting/ improvising with and then also some structured reactions to those sounds with the multi-tracked pieces. It’s some kind of dialogue between solo, improvised, percussion-based playing and overdubbed, guitar-bass-drums, ‘song’ type of music. How the two things inform each other is a big aspect of the album.”

S13: The set-up of your stringed drums results in really unique and vibrant tones. To me, it takes me back to when the likes of MC5 and The Stooges were making blues sound and feel dangerous. Was this a period of music history you were thinking about when recording these songs?

CC: “Actually, YES! The stringed-drum is one string bisected by a bridge, so you have two open notes, one on either side of the bridge. And I usually start out with them tuned to an interval that happens to be the same as the one in The Stooges’ song 1970. And MC5’s Black to Comm is continually playing on a loop somewhere in the recesses of my psyche. The propulsion of those two bands was life-changing for me, for sure. Funnily enough, I’d say that what I love so much about the MC5 and The Stooges possibly had a bigger influence on the improvised solo pieces on the record than the ones that have guitar/bass/drums. But it’s all in there somewhere. I have to say, I am God-damned DELIGHTED that the string set-up took you to that place.”

S13: When you’re in the creative process, are you a believer that certain aspects of the process are taken out of your hands?

CC: “I hope so! Or, at least taken out of the realm of purely rational thought. Especially when it comes to improvising.”  

S13: Are you influenced by politics, and do you think it influences the music you make in any way?

CC: “Yeah, definitely. Early 2020 was still the era of Trump, so that dystopian feeling was very much present. But it could be that you decide to lean into that or make music to try to counteract it. The influence is there for sure, but what you do with an influence is unpredictable and subject to continuous change.”

S13: Physical strain is a serious issue for a lot of drummers, and I’d imagine even more so for an improvisational percussionist such as yourself. Have you got any techniques or rituals to help combat injury?

CC: “I try to stay loose while playing, more for the effect that I hope it will have on the music rather than anything health related. But I think it’s actually done me a big favour in that I haven’t had any issues from drumming. Knock on wood.”

S13: What do you think you would have been it you weren’t a drummer?

CC: “Speaking from the recent experience of the pandemic when touring was impossible and things were looking quite grim for a while, let me say that I hope I never have to find out! I guess I did start painting a lot during the pandemic, so maybe there’s your answer?”

The Key (Became the Important Thing [& Then Just Faded Away]) is out via Drag City. Purchase from Bandcamp.