dg: You've been playing the drums for 45 years? Since you were 15?
PH: Just about. Something in that neighborhood. Say 35, sounds better. [laughs] 'Cuz I didn't start out playing drums. My uncle is Slide Hampton, jazz trombonist, and my whole family had a band and I wanted to be like him, so when I went to school, instead of taking violin or something other chicks were doing. I started trombone. I wanted to be like Uncle Slide. But my arm was too short to reach seventh position, and on the weekends sometimes my uncle who had a band would allow me to come to the club … and sit in. One night the drummer didn't show -- he liked to drink -- so they asked me if I could just sit and keep a beat until they could find somebody to come in and play. When I sat down I was like, "This is a hell of a lot better than trying to reach seventh position!" And that's how it started, and I've just been doing it ever since.

dg: Just about everyone in your family is a musician, right?
PH: Well, it goes into, because I'm the second generation, my brother can't even play the radio! So as far as the music thing is concerned, some of my cousins are musicians. The musical interest started to peter as the generations evolved, but I don't think I could have done anything else, even at this late date. I may be brushing my teeth in the morning and a tune will be running through my head, and there's nothing I can do about it. It's there. Music has been … it's just been it. I've done other jobs to survive, because when I first came to New York, the music thing for females, other than playing the violin or piano...

dg: When did you come to New York?
Um. We're still a little shaky about that. Someplace around '65, '66.

dg: That's around the time Paula Spiro [Paula Hampton's sometime teacher and the founder of the Female Drummers Workshop. See 'Shop Talk in this issue] first got to New City. Have you known her since then?
PH: No! I've known Paula, I've been taking classes from her since September last year. I met her June or July of last year under very strange circumstances. One of these days I'll tell you about it.

dg: Well, you could tell me now!
PH: I knew that I had to connect with this woman for some reason. I walked into a bar and this bar was really crowded. But everybody was away from this particular corner, and that was Paula Spiro. She had two quarters in her hands, the music was playing on the jukebox, and she was doing rhythm patterns with those quarters. So, naturally, I had to meet this girl! We had a conversation about the drum school that she's conducting, and I knew that was something that I wanted to do. I never learned how to read music, and she said she could help me to read music.

dg: She explained the relationship with you as one where you both learn from each other. She was blown away at the fact that YOU were going to HER for lessons.
PH: You know how that is. I think the same thing applies in regular schools. Teachers learn from their children as the children are learning from them. It's not the way I planned it, "Well, I'm gonna show this broad." It's not that way at all! She has a set of drums in her apartment, and from time to time I would show her things like, "This is what I was doing last night on the gig," you know. And she in turn would show me things. Because she's not a jazz drummer, and I can't do the stuff she does. Twenty years ago...

dg: She talked a lot about keeping up arm strength.
PH: You ever looked at her arms? This is all muscle! I don't have that anymore, and I don't have the time now to try and build it up. So people like her I admire especially. Those females that get into those rock bands, man, it takes a lot of stamina to do that. We belong to a mutual admiration society. I tell everyone about her. I think it takes a lot of intestinal fortitude for a woman of her ilk to take it upon herself to even open a school. It takes patience to teach someone to play. That's why I don't think I'm that involved in it right now.

dg: She said that when she came to New York she only knew one beat!
PH: Well, she damn sure knows a lot of 'em now. You can bet that. I go to my classes. Sometimes it's a struggle, but I realized that just in the year that I've been studying with her, the change that's come about, and she's made me see that I could really always read music. But I feel that some stuff drummers play can't be put on paper. You don't always want to play the same riff all the time. When you're playing a tune, you might hear something else in your head. I don't want to look over and see something I've written on this piece of paper here. But I'm sorry in a way that I didn't study music earlier because I missed a couple of Broadway shows. They liked the way I played, but they gave me this big stack of music! I told them, "You might as well give that to Ray Charles because I can't read a note!" They say you're never too old to learn.

dg: You're young!
PH: Believe me. I just decided … I used to be ashamed to tell people how old I was. Not anymore. Because I found I get a certain amount of respect. I mean, it kind of hurts sometimes when someone calls you "ma'am." The other day I was joking with this bus driver. There was a lady ahead of me, but we got ready to get on the bus, and he put the thing down. You know, I said, "You know you're getting old when they let the bus down for you!" [laughs] I don't have a lot of regrets other than the reading and devoting more time to playing. I've been some places that I probably never would have gotten to go.

dg: Touring?
PH: Oh, yeah. Europe, 5, 6 times. I've never been to Japan and that area, but we did do that cruise to Alaska one time.

dg: So you were the cruise band?
PH: Two weeks before, we had done the cruise to Bermuda, and this lady called me up and said, "Listen, we got extra tickets, you're welcome to come, if you want to play some." So it wasn't a paying gig, but what an experience. The first time I'd been to California. That, along with the people you get to meet, and people treat you differently when they know you're a musician, except other male musicians...

dg: That's what I want to talk about.
PH: I know that's what you want to talk about because you want to get some dirt!

dg: Well, you don't have to give me any names or anything, but probably now it's easier for women in the music industry, especially rock, because there are so many women drummers in rock. But I'm curious about what your experience has been as a woman for the past 35-45 years.
PH: Well, I will tell you this. Even at this late date I still find a difference in the mentality of male musicians. In comparison , and excuse me for saying it, white musicians and, shall we call them, "the bruthas." I saw a prime example last week when we [Jazzberry Jam] were playing at the Roseland for the Charlie Parker thing [Hampton's band, the Jazzberry Jam, played at an annual Charlie Parker celebration in October at Roseland in New York]. They are still not willing to -- I don't say step aside -- they're still not willing to move their seat over a little bit like this so you can play.

dg: So their attitude toward women is different, you'd say, than the white male players'?
PH: I was in a white band in Indiana, all white guys and myself, Arnie and The Soul Brothers. It was the first time I was ever actually faced with racism. We were going through one of those little towns, in MY hometown of Indiana, to stop to get something to eat, and we close up the car and get ready to go up to the front door, and this guy says, "She has to go around the back."

dg: What year?
PH: In the fifties. But it stuck in my head because Arnie wanted to fight. And I said, "Come on, man, let's go someplace else." They didn't want us sitting together. That showed me, it has not been so bad since I came to New York. It's a personality clash with these guys. I worked with an organ player who was white, and we played together for years, and we didn't run into that. I'm doing a seminar with Paula, and this is one of the things I'm going to touch on to the female drummers because you can't let it stop you. It's all part of the learning process. In addition to learning to do this [tapping fingers on the table], you gotta get this [pointing to her head] together and this [pointing to her heart]. If you really want to do this, don't let anybody stop you, 'cuz there are still plenty of people out there that don't want to see women playing … and women have to just stop being such wooses. I guess I'm saying that to say that … we paid the dues. There are still dues being paid, but we took the real shit. To the point of where you go to a gig where you're supposed to be playing, and there's a male band playing up there. It makes you angry, but it also strengthens your determination to go ahead.

dg: If you keep doing it with all of those obstacles, it means it's something you really want.
PH: And it's better. They say the harder it is to obtain it, the more you enjoy it once you get it. And that's life! Not just playing music.

dg: Has anyone ever made comments like, "You're the best woman drummer I've ever seen?"
PH: Oh, you get that. You try not to let it get to you. It's hard. But most of them are usually people who have never seen women drummers. When I first came to New York, there were only 4 female drummers. All of a sudden, one morning I woke up and there are female drummers everywhere. More every week! They [the male musicians] are starting to relax as far as this female thing is concerned.

dg: It seems like it's much more difficult for a woman jazz drummer than a rock drummer.
PH: I think so. I think the rock people have a different concept about what life is about. They're not as insecure.

dg: Well, maybe some of them. [laugh]
PH: Well I haven't met that many of 'em. I worked with a couple of blues bands, but I haven't worked with rock bands. If I find out that's where a cat's head is at, I just do NOT deal with it. It's like the devil. If you know he's the devil, get away from him! You ain't gonna stay in his face! When I started trying to get a teacher, you should have heard some of the stories they told me. "I can't teach you nothing!" So my aunt is a great back patter! She says, "NO, he CAN'T teach you anything; you oughta be teaching HIM!" That kind of thing. I still got a long way to go. My problem is I can hear something in my head, and my hands won't play it. That's frustrating.

dg: You said your uncle was a big influence. Are there any drummers that you were influenced by?
PH: You know, I never sat and listened to Max Roach or Roy Haynes [SPELLING?] or any of those guys because at the time I really was working my vocalizing. I wanted to be this great singer, so cleaning house I would have the music on, and I guess vicariously I would hear Roy Haynes playing something, but I wasn't thinking about it. It just got inside me, and then the next time I was on my drums, I tried to play it. I didn't have idols. In listening to Sarah Vaughn you got Roy Haynes on drums. You're getting two goodies. But I didn't ever sit down and listen to one particular drummer because I don't want to sound like anybody. I took a little bit from this one and a little bit from that one and mixed it all together. It's like making a pie or something. I've tried to make my own sound. Damn right I'd like to play like Roy Haynes, but if the Lord wanted me to play like Roy Haynes he'd have made me short and a man!

dg: I noticed that your band is all women. Do you prefer to play with other women?
PH: Let me tell you something. I have always said ever since I was young, I don't care what color you are, what size you are, what sex you are if you really want to play. I've been in all-male bands, I was in a 16-piece band and I was the only female. And you don't think about that. I don't have time to think about that. My thing is, "Is that bass player keeping the beat?" I don't have time to worry about whether you're white or black. I mean, well, I'm gonna have to get over into that. From the time we were little kids, my mother and them had a big band, and they were on the road a lot, so grandma took care of us. There would be times when she'd be dishing up food and there would be a kid sitting over there, and she'd say, "Well, whose kid are you?" We never had time for that. My daughter is married to a white boy. It hurts me that the world is still dealing with that bullshit. You know, Dr. King said judge a man by the content of his soul, not the color of his skin. I don't want to philosophize ... Can you play? That's the important thing. It's time-consuming, and look what you're missing.

dg: What was the music scene like in New York when you got here? Were you involved in it at all?
PH: [laughs] Well, there are certain times when you say things... When I first came to New York, I knew no one. I came here for a vacation. I lived in my Uncle Slide's house in Brooklyn, where there were musicians coming through at all hours, I mean famous. I didn't know they were famous at the time. The music thing was pretty good. I moved to the Alvin Hotel at 52nd and Broadway. Everybody lived in there. It was a status thing. When you came to New York to do a gig, you stayed at the Alvin. Dinah Washington was there, Screamin' Jay Hawkins, Jackie Wilson. Everybody lived there. At the time I wasn't too heavy into the music thing because there was a clique of musicians, mostly male, and I knew it was going to take some time for me to get into that clique, so I worked the switchboard at the hotel to compensate a little for my rent. I could tell you some stories! I could write a book! I could've been rich! But musically Birdland was right across the street, and a lot of the clubs in the village were flourishing, and Harlem was doing good. There was music everywhere. There was still the struggle with the male/female thing, but as time went on ... There were two bars on that street that we used to hang out in. One was called C & D ... and all the musicians hung in there because when they needed studio musicians that was where they would come. All the cats knew that was where to be, and the agents would come in there and just take 'em right out. Money was plenty because they didn't have CD's. But it wasn't that great for me. I can't tell you the first gig I ever did. I don't remember. I remember someone told me that there was a woman that was looking for a drummer, and she was working at The Cotton Club, so I went up there and I was introduced to her and she said that she was getting ready to go to Europe, and I was scared to death. She gave me a tape of her show, and that's the way I would learn things. I was with her for 5 years. But the New York scene has changed drastically. If you take the section of the paper of who's appearing this week, next week you'll basically see the same people. Record companies have taken over the clubs. Until Jazzberry Jam gets a record deal...

dg: Are you shopping your music around?
PH: Yeah. We made a demonstration CD, and we've sent it out. My Uncle Slide has a daughter who has been acting as his agent in the Midwest, and she's working on getting us some gigs. March is National Women's Month, so we're getting a lot of calls.

dg: Do you have any gigs lined up in this area?
PH: We'll be playing in Poughkeepsie on November 19th and we're doing Langston Hughes Library on Northern Boulevard in Queens with a flutist. We do a lot of things at St. Peter's Church.

dg: Do you have any advice for other women drummers, or other drummers in general?
PH: Well, as I said, the main thing that you have to … I don't know if I should say question yourself. There are people that see you playing, and they think, shit, I can do that, and believe me it is not easy. Once you find out that this is what you want to do, you have to persevere regardless of the obstacles. This only makes it sweeter when you get to the final thing. You can't let anyone deter you. ' Cuz there are people out there who will try to talk you out of it. They'll tell you how unladylike it is...but they have another agenda. Set a goal in your head of where you want to be, and work toward that goal and just don't let anything stop you. Perseverance. Young people have to realize that it ain't gonna be easy. Even the dues that we have paid, there are still dues to be paid, but it's worth it. Nothing gonna come to you for free. You're gonna have to study, and you can't be-bop around it. Even at 60 years old, I'm still trying to learn. A lot of stuff I need to learn. Don't depend on anyone to encourage you. You'll run into some people that will...and I want to become one of those people. Male and female, young and old. It's never too late.

dg: Anything else you want to talk about?
PH: I did want to touch a little bit on Jazzberry Jam. We are now a really working unit, and the demo CD is "Jazzberry Jam," so I'd appreciate it if you could get a mention of them in there.