Beware of Mr. Baker

Ginger Baker just liked banging things around. And as soon as some directed him in the way of drums - and some of the premier jazz drummers of the 1950's, which was kind of the apotheosis of jazz - he was set for life. And this life included being apart of two of the major rock bands of the 1960's (Cream and Blind Faith) along with others, then became a figurehead of African drumming in the 1970's, and then... semi-obscurity, polo, playing with some band that got lost in the shuffle of the 90's grunge scene, polo, ex-wives, polo, and um... I said polo right?

Though Cream was sort of cited as the grandfather or forefather for heavy metal (hey there's Lars from Metallica in the doc), Baker comes off more like a craggly jazz-man-cum-punk-rocker, who didn't give a f**k and even gives the director of his documentary a piece of his mind with his cane! Kind of a prime example of a man who you know you wouldn't want to spend more than two minutes with - hard to feel sorry for a man who wasted all his money, and Cream reunion money no less (I couldn't afford those tickets man!) on horses and dogs (he says they are more trustworthy and loving of humans) - yet he really is just one of the drummers that changed the game for everyone.

Also fascinating to find out a musician from the 60's - and husband and father - who really could have just torpedoed all of his good luck from the era in two decades afterward. A good documentary on what the Brits could call a 'right old nasty bastard.'