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Drum
There were those among the new fraternity who cited Lenny Bruce as their inspiration. Drum baulked at the hypocrisy of this. He hero-worshipped Lenny. Lenny was the true jazz beat inheritance. Drum had listened to all the LPs, the triple-album concert performances, the bits and vamps. He’d watched the documentaries and the third-generation bootleg footage. He had internalised the rhythms, the cadence, the worldview. He could do the knowing asides; the punctuation mark cackle and the sudden octave drop to thrust home a point. He knew that when Lenny first appeared on the Steve Allen Show in 1959 the host “Once a month we will book a comedian who will offend everybody.” Everybody, not a few carefully selected, ideologically filtered targets – everyone. Drum considered comedy to be an equal-opportunities offender, a morality neutral zone, otherwise it wasn’t comedy.
Set predominantly in the alternative comedy world of the 1980s, Drum documents the rise and fall of Malcolm Drummond, a former jazz musician who takes a less than conventional route into stand up. This is a novel about a comic, but emphatically not a comic novel. There is darkness behind the wit and something cathartic in the way that Drum goes about his business. With an ever-shifting backdrop we meet an ever-changing cast along the way. Friends and foes, bandmates, soulmates and adversaries. We learn about Drum’s craft, his graft, his upbringing and his down bringing, his relationships, his loves gained and lost, his lineage, and his consummate ability to self-destruct. We witness his short-lived and unlikely comedic collaboration with Wallace Castle (whose career trajectory might seem strangely familiar to you in a parallel earth in reverse kind of way.) And slowly we learn about the damage and dysfunction that informs Drum’s outlook and the inner demons that drive his work.
Comedy is another country. They do things differently there. Set your moral compass to neutral and join me in the forbidden zone. And don’t shoot me. I’m only the messenger.
When it was all over everyone drifted out into the snow-softened streets. The air chilled their faces and orderly queues formed for taxis that would take an age to come. They all shared their favourite moments and felt the presence of the invisible bond that had been forged between them. The enchantment lingered for a while but slowly the chatter subsided and the performance they had all just witnessed began to fade like clouded starlight. Laughter is only ever fleeting. Every night a comedian moulds an elaborate sandcastle and decorates it with buttresses and flags and a shallow moat before
surrendering all that craftsmanship to the inevitability of the incoming tide. The work will have to begin all over again tomorrow.
Set predominantly in the alternative comedy world of the 1980s, Drum documents the rise and fall of Malcolm Drummond, a former jazz musician who takes a less than conventional route into stand up. This is a novel about a comic, but emphatically not a comic novel. There is darkness behind the wit and something cathartic in the way that Drum goes about his business. With an ever-shifting backdrop we meet an ever-changing cast along the way. Friends and foes, bandmates, soulmates and adversaries. We learn about Drum’s craft, his graft, his upbringing and his down bringing, his relationships, his loves gained and lost, his lineage, and his consummate ability to self-destruct. We witness his short-lived and unlikely comedic collaboration with Wallace Castle (whose career trajectory might seem strangely familiar to you in a parallel earth in reverse kind of way.) And slowly we learn about the damage and dysfunction that informs Drum’s outlook and the inner demons that drive his work.
Comedy is another country. They do things differently there. Set your moral compass to neutral and join me in the forbidden zone. And don’t shoot me. I’m only the messenger.
When it was all over everyone drifted out into the snow-softened streets. The air chilled their faces and orderly queues formed for taxis that would take an age to come. They all shared their favourite moments and felt the presence of the invisible bond that had been forged between them. The enchantment lingered for a while but slowly the chatter subsided and the performance they had all just witnessed began to fade like clouded starlight. Laughter is only ever fleeting. Every night a comedian moulds an elaborate sandcastle and decorates it with buttresses and flags and a shallow moat before
surrendering all that craftsmanship to the inevitability of the incoming tide. The work will have to begin all over again tomorrow.
252 pages, Kindle Edition
Published January 1, 2026
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