by Stewart Copeland…
"And now for the reason they flew me all this way. Dave and Taylor and I are going to engage in a drum off with some street drummers. Out on the sidewalk are the local heroes and a cluster of Tupperware. They are already blasting, so us white boys sit down, grab sticks and pick up the groove. In a heartbeat, we are woven together in a tapestry of rhythm. The guys on my left and right are as culturally removed from me as Egyptian sailors but we are soon reaching into each other’s souls as we respond to the pulse. It’s a dialogue that’s clear and deep. Each of us is a spoke in a spinning wheel. We give and take. We support and challenge. We are one.(...)
My sticks are a blur and my heart is soaring with joy. Never mind the heat and sweat; all of my being is just a vehicle for this gift of rhythm."
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