A Drummer-on-Drummer Conversation, with Chris Corsano and Brian Chippendale (Lightning Bolt)

Talking ear care, musical “side quests,” and more.

Chris Corsano is a New York-based drummer who’s worked with the likes of Björk, Joe McPhee, Paul Flaherty, Marshall Allen, and many more; Brian Chippendale is the Providence, RI-based drummer and vocalist for the experimental noise rock duo Lightning Bolt. Chris’s new solo record, The Key (Became the Important Thing [& Then Just Faded Away]), is out today on Drag City, so to celebrate, the two drummers got on the phone to catch up. 
— Annie Fell, Editor-in-chief, Talkhouse Music 

Chris Corsano: My running joke was that I was always playing with people who, at one point, were double my age — [Paul] Flaherty was early, early on, and then Joe McPhee. Then I was lucky enough to sit in with Marshall Allen in 2023, and it was like, Alright, this is it. This is the last time I’m going to get to do this where I’m half the age

Brian Chippendale: [Laughs.] Amazing. How was sitting with Marshall Allen? I imagine it was probably out of this world.

Chris: There were so many things about it that were confirming what an absolute badass he is. Like, his first show was in 1943, and now he’s playing at Union Pool in Brooklyn. He’s setting up and he had this white Casio — I can’t remember the model number, but he had the same one that all of our friends have had, and his has the duct tape on it to bend the jack, because the jack’s, of course, fucked up. You know, it’s just exactly like all of us, he just happens to have this intense history woven in it. But he really, really sounded incredible for — I guess he was 98 at that point, almost 99. 

Brian: That’s amazing. That’s so inspiring. 

Chris: Yeah, there’s never an excuse as long as Marshall Allen is out killing it.

Brian: Yeah, totally. I definitely get the, “so how long are you gonna be able to do this for?” comment. I mean, I think they’re specifically talking about Lightning Bolt, and maybe that specific approach, but when I play I’m like, “Yes, I’m playing Lightning Bolt or whatever, but I’m also just playing.” So that question is always kind of funny. 

Chris: I feel like as long as the style you have isn’t, like, hurting you, then you can adapt it. The physics of how you play has always been, for me, incredible to watch because the way that you get the maximum out of things — no one else sounds like you. You’ve cracked so many codes. That’s just people not understanding, or ageism or whatever it is. You’ll be fine. 

Brian: Yeah, I’ll be fine. I mean, I’ve gotten more economic over the years for sure, without even trying. So it just sort of happens. You find ways to do it. I actually worry more about my ears than my playing. The ears are the things that get rocked the most. 

Chris: Yeah, that’s true. Some people have stopped because of the ear thing instead of the physical. 

Brian: That might be the time to transfer into a different approach. I played a show recently with this group, these two crazy puppet dudes. Every show that they play, they get a local musician to come in, and we had a little conversation about, “How does it start? What crescendos, and how long do we go?” But one of [the questions] was, “How loud would you like it?” And they were like, “Oh, you know, we don’t want it super loud. We don’t want to scare anyone away or anything.” And even at my most natural volume, it’s still loud. It’s just a loud setup. But that night, I stuffed towels and I made it quiet — or not quiet, but it was just very listenable — and it was so much fun. I really haven’t quieted down to that level, and it was so playable and I had such control. It was kind of this weird epiphany like, Oh, my god, there’s a whole world of not turning up to 11 all the time. You can play 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 volumes as well! [Laughs.] And it gives you a lot more control. 

Chris: Yeah, it’s like speaking in a whole different language. Sometimes if I’m on tour and I’m borrowing kits, or it’s a house kit and it’s a super duper rock kit that wants to just sound one way, and if I’m playing with someone who’s not incredibly loud, then that’s a puzzle I sometimes can half-crack — and other times just fail miserably. Like, how do you make this thing that doesn’t want to be played this way? It’s a compromise. 

Brian: I would love to see you on a super duper rock kit. 

Chris: I don’t know about that. 

Brian: [Laughs.]

Chris: I mean, I remember there was that show that we played — it was Mindflayer out in a barn in upstate New York a super long time ago. 

Brian: Oh, yeah. I reference that show quite often. 

Chris: Jessica Rylan might have played that 

Brian: But it was also Adris Hoyos—

Chris: In the audience, and Graham Lambkin. 

Brian: Yeah. I remember being so frazzled, because you were there and [Adris] was there, and I was just like, How do I play to these drummers? Cause you guys are both drummers that I really admired and am into, but very different from each other, but also very different from me. We’re almost like this weird mini triangle off to the side, three points on it or something. 

Chris: Yeah, yeah. 

Brian: So it was really wild, because I like — I don’t know about “playing to the crowd,” but I like to try to communicate with other musicians who are there. If I really respect them, I’m thinking about them and sort of incorporate something. Whether you could ever pull it out or not, it’s definitely in my brain. And that night was a wild one because I was like, Oh, my god, how do you play like Harry Pussy, Chris Corsano, Paul Flaherty, and myself all at the same time and make that work? And I mean, it’s actually sort of what I’ve evolved into, in a weird way. I’ve always been somewhat free, but I think back then I more just kept the rhythms going. I’ve gotten a lot looser, at least in my own personal playing. But anyway, I talk about that night a lot like, “What happens if you put Adris Hoyos, Brian Chippendale, and Chris Corsano in a barn in the middle of the woods?”

Chris: Yeah. That was the other thing, it was in a barn. A home field advantage did not exist at all because the acoustics were, like, half open.

Brian: You had some weird set that night. 

Chris: I had a really ringy, jazz style kit that was tuned kind of real melodic, that sounds sort of like ‘60s jazz records. I think you played it in soundcheck, and you sounded incredible because the way that it would ring longer and was higher-pitched, it was kind of like hearing a chord because it just would hang in the air. The sound of each drum would sustain a little bit longer. So you on a different on a jazz kit would be like this whole other thing, you know? 

Brian: Yeah. My kit is definitely my best friend and my worst enemy in many ways. It can be played one way — you have to whack it. It just doesn’t do anything if you just try to play it less… I mean, you can bring it down, but you still have to whack it. 

Chris: You make it sound really musical still, even if it is a thing that you’re whacking or that you have to be more physical with. The notes are really distinct and melodic stuff happens in this way that doesn’t if I sit down to a kit like that. I can’t get it to sing, you know? It’s like a wrestling match with a wet cardboard box.

Brian: You could figure it out. You just gotta get to know it. 

Chris: Yeah, give it enough time. Have you changed things about the kit? I was doing my work prep work for this and I was checking out live [clips] — your snare is always instantly recognizable. You’re the most instantly recognizable drummer I think I’ve ever heard. How you tune and what you do with that tuning, you would be a hard person to duplicate or even get close to. 

Brian: They try. There’s lots of duos out there trying, for all the wrong reasons.

Chris: [Laughs.] I’ve definitely heard your influence out there. I mean, you blew my mind, and still do. I would also be guilty of, over the years, trying to incorporate that pulsing thing that can also still be free. Like how you were saying over the years you’ve leaned more into getting freer and being comfortable there, I think for me it was more going the other direction. Like I could lock in enough, but if I’m playing with people who are playing real free, a way to do it where it doesn’t fuck it up for them, or it doesn’t take somebody out of a rhythmic thing. Meeting around from different directions.

Brian: Right. Yeah, I’m still very deeply rooted in the rhythm, but I have changed little things. There’s a little 10-inch snare that’s been in there on the side and then a couple hanging gongs, and then a tiny little obnoxious chime cymbal thing that I have stuck up top. Over COVID, I was just playing so much by myself. I have a pile of metal next to it, and just trying to Chris Corsano out a little bit, dragging some shit out of the junkyard to liven up the sound. 

Chris: Nice.

Brian: It’s been fun. 

Chris: Is that for Lightning Bolt or Black Pus [Brian’s solo project] or both? 

Brian: It’s more for Black Pus. It’s weird, Lightning Bolt is just this monster; I mean, we took COVID off, kind of in different pods or whatever. So when we got back together after the two year hiatus, I’d been working on slightly different stuff, and it just all went out the window with Lightning Bolt. Working on my hand speed, or just more subtle stuff that I was fucking around with, don’t do shit in that world. So it was just back to like, Here we go

Chris: Yeah, I found that too — you develop something at home by yourself and you’re like, “I can’t wait to see how this — oh, you can’t even hear this. There’s a bigger story going on, and this is some real arcane, super nerd stuff.” Which is totally fun and makes it cool to figure out a space for it. But it’s sometimes hard to integrate. You go off and you do your side quest, and you come back and you’re like, “Hey gang!” And they’re like, “No, no.”

Brian: Yeah, totally. So you do side quests but you don’t do missions, huh? 

Chris: [Laughs.] Some missions. There’s long term people, but then there’s a lot of side quests. 

Brian: Oh, yeah. I just put on the two songs that I can listen to from your new record that’s coming, the first one being that you don’t do missions…

Chris: Oh, damn, I totally missed the tie-in. Thank you for listening!

Brian: I tied it in and you missed it!

Chris: I did. And actually, all those titles are from phone conversations with my dad, kind of when he was in the midst of his dementia. But he always had a good way of turning a phrase, and so they just got a little bit more psychedelic and out there. I’d be calling to check in on him, but then he’d be giving me this wealth of titles. 

Brian: That’s amazing. Is the new record influenced by him in any way beyond that? I mean, it must be on some level, just because you are you.

Chris: Kind of in reverse. Because I recorded really early in the pandemic — like, Oh, shit, what do I do? I’m going to go crazy. And then it was more like 2021 when things started to really take a turn for the worse with him. So it took me so long to mix the thing and do all the other stuff that it didn’t get finished until 2023, until after he passed. So yeah, the titling, and a bit of just, What is this all…? But a lot of it was pandemic era-related stuff, because there were sadly other people who left the earth around then too. When I was mixing them and I heard an old band mate had died, then it was like, Oh, yeah, that guitar in this little part of the song is like me doing my version of Marc Orleans. So it was like this weird time travel. Or maybe it’s just context and you just see things through a different lens. 

Brian: Yeah, when things happen you then make the connection, perhaps.

Chris: Yeah, just how much something did mean to you and it’s always there, but it’s a little bit invisible because it’s just in how you think. You know, all the guitarists that I knew — I don’t know what I’m doing on guitar, so I’m totally just trying to rip off this move or that. And then you find something else and you go on the side quest and you forget that there was a real mission at the beginning, and you come back and the results of the side quest is what makes it on the record rather than the original mission. 

Brian: Oh, totally. Especially when you’re self-recording, it’s all side quests. 

Chris: Yeah. I should have made a little chart of, “This is me doing a Rick Bishop move. This is…” And it’s not like I am, because I couldn’t, and also it’s my weird way of thinking of them and no one would think it was accurate. But it was an entertaining record to do. We were all a little bit lonely in 2020, so it was like me having imaginary friends for that year. 

I wanted to ask you about a side quest — or not a side quest, but a parallel quest — the record, Improvised Curses, that you did. I was listening to that one, and it said it was part of a seven day session at Machines with Magnets [studio in Pawtucket, RI], and another record is coming out that’s slightly more song-based. Where is that other record? Is that hearable yet?

Brian: That record is coming out in October on Thrill Jockey. That was so much fun. It was seven days at Machines with Seth [Manchester], which you have spent time there.

Chris: Yeah. Great place. 

Brian: There were so many side missions. I think there’s eight songs on it coming out. I don’t know if it goes in as many directions — I mean, from what I’ve heard from your new record, it’s definitely like, “Woah, this is different for Chris Corsano.” I think the thing I worked on is still pretty recognizably me solo stuff, but it does go in some in some new places that I’m pretty psyched about.

Chris: The Improvised Curses thing sounds amazing. It sounds like the best parts of self-recording, and also a studio like Machines with Magnets, where the stereo panning of things is kind of wild, but it’s still really dirty and gritty, but somehow clear, too. Any record is never going to do you justice, but this feels like it’s the coolest and most exciting and most just fucking bonkers I’ve heard your drums captured. So I’m very excited for the companion record, too. 

Brian: So what else is up? What’s on the horizon for you? Lots of shows? 

Chris: Yeah, stuff with [Bill] Orcutt and Zoh [Amba]. Then playing with Mike Watt and Joe Baiza in the fall, we’re going to do a little tour… I’ve been sort of touring since August, with a couple of two week breaks.

Brian: That’s crazy! 

Chris: Yeah, it was originally not the plan to go out for that long. But then it was also like, I’m having fun and I’m still stringing sentences together that start and end somewhere, so why not?

Brian: I mean, I’ve not toured for, you know, 10-months straight, but I’m always sort of wrestling with the idea of, what does touring do for your playing? And what what benefits playing more: playing at home, practicing or jamming or whatever, or playing shows? I love tour because it turns me kind of into this drumming machine, and I feel hyper-in tune with my kit, and then maybe functioning at, like, 75% creativity or something. Then when I get home, I sort of start to lose the chops in a way, but I can reach peak creativity more, perhaps because the pressure is different. 

Chris: It’s helped with any kind of nervousness about, What’s this going to be like? It’s like, It’s just going to be. I’m here, it’s going to happen. 

Brian: I’ve gotta show up. 

Chris: Yeah, and giving up thinking that I could really control the outcome. I’m going to try to play as well as possible, but there’s a start time and there’s no sense in delaying it. And I was having more and more fun, which is maybe a good sign. At home, the one big difference is you get to play a lot more when you’re not touring, because soundcheck is figuring out whatever needs to be figured out, and then you play a set. And even if the set’s an hour, at home, you could just spend the whole day chasing that creativity. So I kind of missed it. And actually, if there’s a chance during soundcheck, if everyone is like, “OK, we’re done, we’re all leaving the room,” I sometimes would just stick around and play more because I missed that experimenting with, What does the kit do if I do this? You could run those scenarios, unless you’re running them right in front of the audience — which to some extent, I do. You want to keep it unpredictable. But I don’t want to keep it so unpredictable that it just gets away from everybody and isn’t fun for anyone. There’s a sweet spot, maybe.

Brian: Only so many failures per show that you can allow. [Laughs.] 

Chris: Yeah. But then the thing of playing a bunch is learning that you can actually allow some failures per show, and it can still mean a lot to somebody in the audience; they could they could still really enjoy the show and not care. I didn’t ever care, “Oh, this person made a mistake.” The way that people judge shows they play versus shows they see, sometimes there’s a really big gap.

Brian: Oh, there’s a huge gap. 

Chris: Yeah. So I think it’s trying to get myself a little bit closer to thinking a certain way about the show as I would if I had no ego. Like if somebody went to the show and saw this, they would have been like, “Oh, yeah, that was incredibly noisy and weird and didn’t make any sense. I loved it.” That’s usually how I would be as an audience member. 

Brian: So, sort of trying to be a spectator at your own show. 

Chris: Exactly. 

Brian: It’s true. I mean, you can have many failures as you want per show and it actually can be fantastic. I still get nervous for shows. A lot of it is just kind of a welling up of energy — it’s not the playing, it’s like everything but the playing. Like, Where’s the bathroom? Am I going to be tired right before? Did I lose my drum key? But I was talking to someone about nervousness, and this person was like, “You know, these people are just here to see you play. They’re here to see you be you here tonight.” When you think about it in that fashion, it gives you so much leeway. It’s kind of like, “It’s me today. You get me today. And that’s the show.”

Chris: Yeah, absolutely. 

Brian: And I’m gonna prepare myself and try as hard as I can, but if something wild happens, if something wrong happens, if something unique happens — which it always does, but if you can really land some special playing that night, that’s a really magical moment.

Chris: Yeah. And it keeps it from being like a Vegas show, where you just go and you do the same exact routine, where you’re just trying to product-ify yourself. Like, if you couldn’t make it this night, you just make it one of the other 364 nights of the year and you’ll get what you paid for. But that sounds kind of terminal. No good. 

Brian: So did you get all your product placement lines in and everything?

Chris: Yeah, my new makeup line and my hair care for men — that’ll be the next interview. I’ll push doubly hard. 

Brian: I have so many products. I’m all about hustling… But anyway, I’ll save that for the next one. 

Chris: This was super fun! Good to talk to you. 

Brian: Yeah, great to talk to you! I can’t wait to see you in real life, or whatever. Have fun on the endless tour!

Chris Corsano (b. 1975, USA) is a New York-based drummer who has been active at the intersections of collective improvisation, free jazz, avant-rock, and experimental music since the late 1990s. He’s been the rim-batterer of choice for some of the greatest contemporary purveyors of “jazz” (Joe McPhee, Paul Flaherty, Mette Rasmussen, Zoh Amba) and “rock” (Sir Richard Bishop, Bill Orcutt, Jim O’Rourke), as well as artists beyond categorization (Björk for her Volta album and world tour, Michael Flower, Okkyung Lee).

His latest solo record, The Key (Became the Important Thing [& Then Just Faded Away]), is out now on Drag City.