Can you remember the first time you heard Take 5? Many musicians, myself included can still remember how easily the music flowed out of the speakers and how the drum solo became a composition on its own.

This was the art of Joe Morello, a man whose technique could rival that of many great concert artists but whose musicianship and melodic sense is unsurpassed. Joe loved performing Take 5 but he never let that tune define him.

Joe loved opening doors to new musical ideas. He always did that with a sense of swing,

He could make the drabbest technical exercise move. Swing is a dance feeling that is not confined to 4/4 but applies to every meter under the sun. It is this more than anything that made Joe the Innovator and sage that he became.

He died on March 12 2011, eighty-two years after his birth in Springfield, Massachusetts. As a youngster he was a violin prodigy who played the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto with the Boston Symphony Orchestra before he ever picked up a drumstick. When Joe made the switch to drums, he studied with the legendary George Lawrence Stone who wisely pointed Joe towards Jazz -- and he never looked back.

His work with Dave Brubeck and other artists has been written about many times and I want to celebrate his life with a slightly different perspective. I was never a student of his. I was just a drummer and lifelong fan who became a friend. Joe’s technique always took a back seat to the music and he affirmed this many times. What awed me was his sense of space. When you listen to the Take 5 solo you can feel the space that separates the figures. You can hear him constructing his own composition on top of the piano ostinato.

He could also hear and execute the oddest subdivisions when he was playing even when the tune was a Blues, yet it all made sense. He was also very giving, warm and generous and I will never forget the Man or the Music.

The biggest problems drummers face when working with new music is either overplaying or underplaying. How do we know if what were playing is right? The answer is simple. If you can hear the music coming through then you got yourself a drum part.

Drummers sometimes forget that composers write music and not drum parts. Classic performances are always the result of a great song meeting a really good drummer. When we listen to Toto’s Rosanna, the first thing that we are drawn to is Jeff Porcaro’s groove.

That groove was Jeff’s response to a great melody, even though his part was somewhat complex and dominant the song still comes through. Rosanna is not a happy accident, but the result of years of a drummer playing for the music and not for history. The fact that the groove is legendary is proof that letting the music speak is the way to go.

Listening is the most important element in a musician’s toolbox and if you don’t listen you may miss the opportunity to make a song better. Many people will often talk about Buddy Rich’s awesome technical abilities but I don’t admire him for that alone. It is his ability to hear every aspect of an arrangement and make it his own.

I have heard several composers and arrangers say that Buddy played the music exactly the way they envisioned it and he did it by listening not reading. A written drum part does not relieve you of the responsibility of listening. You have to be able to hear how your part is meshing with the rest of the band.

Are the dynamics right, does your sense of the pulse fit with the rest of the rhythm section and most important are you phrasing the music correctly. Reading and listening in tandem is what creates good music and it goes a long way to fulfilling the composers intent.

Musicians dream of becoming a great player and there are many paths to greatness. What gets you to the top and keeps you there is mastery of your craft and the humility required to let the music speak.