RHYTHM IS LIFE
Matt Eastley 3/3/25
Mick pictured in 1967 during a gig at Rochester College
Mick O’Hara (St Mary’s 1958 to 1963) describes himself as a “poor man’s Gene Krupa.” Yet he’s doing himself a massive disservice. Here Mick shares his love affair with drumming.
“I was a comparatively ‘normal’ child until at the age of 12 I had a ‘Road to Damascus’ moment when I heard a Gene Krupa recording of ‘Drum Boogie’ and I was ruined forever!
It led me to an obsession which has given me so many happy memories (and some scary) and no money whatsoever!
My elder cousin John Bourke was a very good drummer and taught me the basics while allowing me to do some gigs with him on what was called ‘The South East Wedding Circuit.’
In my middle teens I took lessons from the great dance band drummer Frank King, who was also a journalist for ‘Crescendo’ magazine.
Frank was so highly regarded that, on his death, a tribute concert was held in the Queen Elizabeth Hall in London where a thousand of us drummers watched in awe while drumming legends Buddy Rich, Louie Bellson and Kenny Clare tore the place apart.
I purchased my first kit on hire purchase and joined ‘John Walden’s Blues Combine.’ John looked like an accountant but was a fantastic blues harp (harmonica) player, second only to the great Cyril Davies.
Mick, third right, pictured in 1961 with John Walden’s Blues Combine
We made some demo discs which John Peel very kindly played on his radio show. After that I did gigs with groups of every style – swing, pop, Latin, rock, strict tempo dance etc – with names that nobody has heard of since – like ‘Shemiah’s Wurlitzer’ and lovely little bands like ‘Design’ or ‘Cascade.’
Have Drums Will Travel. Mick behind his kit with the band Design at the Montrose Club, Sidcup
I would never know what to expect. A call would come through saying ‘can you be at the Tiger’s Head pub in Lee Green on Saturday?’ and I would arrive early, set up my ‘traps’ (kit) and then ask: ‘What sort of stuff are we doing and is it reading or busking?’
I have played in pubs, clubs, condemned buildings, glorified toilets and places where the brave fear to venture and the bouncers had to throw people in rather than out.
Wherever you travel you can find an opportunity to play. I sat in with the ‘PJ Duffy Radio Band’ in Ireland, and played for Turkish dancers on the Djarbuka drum at ‘Zaccary’s’ in Tenerife.
In older age, my fingers became somewhat stiff and arthritic and I had to stop playing. By chance I went to a local ‘hub’ which was helping the handicapped community and there I met a brilliant drummer called Richard Latham who runs an outfit known as ‘Rich Rhythms,’ playing and teaching African drums.
Still beating the drums: Mick in 2023 with Richard Latham of ‘Rich Rhythms’
My hands still hurt whilst playing the ‘Djembe’ hand drums but Richard solved the problem by providing drums known as ‘Doun Douns’ played with much thicker sticks which were easier on my hands and extended my playing life into my 78th year.
It has rightly been said: “Rhythm is Life.”
I was never talented enough to come anywhere close to the great drummers, and I would certainly not be worthy to polish Gene Krupa’s sticks.
I never came close to fame and especially not to fortune, but in terms of life-affirming joy, it has been what us old-timers would have called ‘groovy!’
Postscript:
I sold my first drum kit in order to buy an engagement ring for lovely girlfriend, June. We celebrate our 56th anniversary this year. What drummers might call a ‘residency.’
Now that is worth a roll on the drums – and a sandwich on the piano!
What a fantastic read. It missed out only one thing. This is also one of the nicest guys you could ever wish to meet. One of the very best. A genuine gent!
That is praise indeed coming from a professional whose talent seems endless. People like you are the backbone of live entertainment and I know only too well the underappreciated work you have done for so many enthusiasts. Thank you Paul.
I wish I had a Quid for every time I have stood in the audience to listen to you play with various bands.
You were the backbone of most of them.
I remember one in particular where a high spot was the whole band donning Red Indian war bonnets whilst you led them through a very loud and raucous rendition of that First Nation anthem ‘Running Bear’ The Audience were always up for it and even stopped fighting for a few minutes as we all joined in stamping along to your bass work with the floor bouncing up and downed the ceiling hanging on for grim death.
Those with suitably deep voices chanted in time to your drum strokes ‘HOOBAR HOOBER’ whilst those whose voices (some of the women) and teeth had not yet broken set up a counterpoint of wild
ululations redolent of a wagon train attack. The Sioux Nation had nothing on southeast London.
This number was a always a crowd pleaser -if only they had something like that at Glastonbury just imagine how many complaints the BBC would receive.
Keep hitting those skins Mick my dear old friend.
Well Buck….I have spent years trying to convince people that I am a serious maestro of the instrument and Vaughan-Williams’ favourite drummer but you have now revealed that I am but a musical buffoon ! We have certainly had some hairy times in places so remote they had to murder a pensioner to start a graveyard but if St Mary’s has done nothing else it has given us the gift of lifelong friendship and an introduction to great people like Matthew. Thank you.
Yes I well recall him and John Bourke ruining all Mum’s best chairs with drumming on them. I don’t know about drumming but I wished he’d drum up the ten bob I lent him in 1968. With interest once he has paid me I will be richer than Elon Musk. Which I thought for years was a blokes aftershave. Also who has photo shopped out all the Jazz Woodbines? Keep the faith Lads. Up the Rebels. P.S. Luckily I had to get two buses to St. Stephens so I had plenty of time to do my homework on the bus 🙂
And you are ??? Thank you for reminding me that I destroyed the family’s already antique furniture! I think many an aspiring drummer started off the same way. As for the fags , there was a poster outside The Mitre pub near the Blackwall Tunnell where the “Blues Combine” were playing which was a head and shoulders of me playing with a fag hanging out of my mouth !
Happy days!!!.
The lovely John Walden. A great harmonica player. Or as Larry Adler used to insist it was called “the mouth organ” John moved to Kenya and became a Pastor at a local Chruch there. I can imagine the congregations faces when he stepped up to the pulpit and got out his harmonica with them all ready to sing along to Onward Christian Soldiers and John bursts into “Hard Hearted Woman”!!! RIP John