LEGENDARY Jamaican musician Carlos Malcolm has described his departed colleague Lloyd Knibb as a flawlessly brilliant drummer who utilised his dexterity to mask any error he made during performance.

Malcolm, founder/leader of the Afro-Jamaican Rhythm, which was one of the ace rivals of the Skatalites of which Knibb was a founding member, also remembered Knibb as a lover of Latin music that, Malcolm said, “was deeper than casual”.

Knibb died of liver cancer at his family home in Kingston on May 12. He was 80.

Here is an excerpt of the tribute by Malcom who now lives in the United States.

“Many a Friday evening at the Bournemouth Club, the Eric Dean Orchestra dance sessions would take on the appearance of a mini-concert. Fans would flock around the apron of the oval-shaped bandstand to cheer on their favourite soloists. It was at one of these mini-concerts that I had my first exposure to the versatility and almost flawless brilliance of Lloyd Knibb’s drumming technique. I say almost flawless, because he was a clever drummer. He could justify every drumming “mistake” with an immediate repetition, which would convince the listener that the phrase was correct.

“There was such plausible logic in Lloyd’s drumming technique that I found it difficult to draw the lines between error and justification. After I met Lloyd I realised that his love for Latin music was deeper than casual. We had many discussions on rhumba and mambo music. In one of his favourite embellishments, Lloyd mastered the sound of the Cuban ‘timbales’ by disengaging the snare sound on his drum. The Cuban timbales are a pair of drums, used in Cuban orchestras for embellishment and dynamics. The drums are open at the bottom and one is slightly larger in circumference than the other. Both are mounted, side-by-side, on a vertical metal stand, and played with a set of sticks.

“To duplicate the sound of the timbales, Lloyd would disengage the snares on his drum and snap off a rim shot with a brief roll on the snare. He would finish the drum roll with a sharp rap, in which the head of the drumstick would hit the skin and the arm of the stick strike the metal rim of the snare, producing a loud, hollow gun-shot sound, “R-r-r-ang!”, exactly as produced by the Cuban timbale drum.

“These ‘rim shots’, or Latin ‘habanicos’, were Lloyd Knibb’s signature sound. From the first time I heard him play, I became fascinated with the appropriateness of his timing during an arrangement, when he would choose to highlight the music with phrases which came like cracks of lightning just before the thunderous entry of the entire orchestra as they jumped into an ensemble passage, engaging the full complement of the band.

“Indeed, the introductory rim shots became endemic to reggae music. The ‘Knibb-like’ rim shot became so widely popular that they can be heard in recordings of Jamaican mento, ska, rock steady, reggae and dancehall music to this day. In 2000, during a reggae recording session I arranged and conducted in San Diego, I asked the drummer for a ‘Knibb-like’ introduction to the piece. The 20-year-old drummer had never met Lloyd Knibb, but he was aware of the distinctive ‘Knibb-like’ drumming technique and delivered the precise effect and phrasing I asked for as an introduction to the arrangement.

“After the Eric Deans Orchestra disbanded in Kingston, Lloyd went to work with a combo at the popular Jolly Roger Club in Montego Bay. On assignment as a photo journalist for the West Indian Review, I went to the Frome Sugar Estate in the far western parish of Westmoreland. On occasions I would visit with Lloyd and his buddy, Baba Brooks, who played second trumpet with the Eric Deans Orchestra. Both were now part of the Jolly Roger’s resident band. I would stay until the late (2:00 am) show, which culminated with an exciting and popular female rumba dancer who was very popular for her “exotic gyrations”, clad in the bare essentials in a dance which was not performed in the first show, for tourists. The highlight of the dance was a duet between the dancer and Lloyd Knibb.

“At a given point in the dance, the music would stop, and to the utmost delight of the crowd, Lloyd would accentuate the dancer’s “frenzied gyrations” with the most inventive and comical drum beats, including rim shots and cowbell noises. It was on occasions such as this that one was able to assess and appreciate the full scope of Lloyd’s drumming genius.

“Lloyd Knibb’s authoritative no-nonsense approach on the bandstand qualified him as the ‘unofficial bandleader’ of the Studio One studio band. Tommy McCook eventually returned home from the Cat & Fiddle Club in The Bahamas, having completed an extended contract. As an independent contractor Tommy joined the studio orchestra and became leader.

“The music they created became so popular that it became clear that they could increase their income by acquiescing to a public clamouring to see the guys who were making such exciting music. The studio group had their first ‘career’ band meeting but the band had no name. In 1957, the Russians bragged to the world that they had launched Sputnik, the first man-made satellite into space.

“For years following, the word “satellite” was on everyone’s lips. McCook eventually came up with the name for the group. Led by Tommy McCook, the independent contractors who had recorded together daily at Studio One had seamlessly honed themselves into the indomitable ‘Skatalites’.”