Jim Gordon’s name might not be instantly recognizable, but I bet “Layla” is. You know that infamous girl from the first chord of Derek & The Dominos’ iconic song. And in Drugs & Demons: The Tragic Journey Of Jim Gordon, Joel Selvin’s new biography on the drummer so many musicians depended on, you can read about Jim’s contribution in Chapter 12. While Eric Clapton was in the throes of heartache and addiction, he created a record that would knock the rock & roll world to its knees … although it took a bit of time for people to catch on. But that is Jim on the drums, holding things together until the voices tore him apart.
Those voices, the ones that slowly pricked away at his mind until one day in 1983, he gave in and stabbed his mother to death. Her voice had been the loudest, most tormenting of the voices. She wouldn’t let him eat or sleep, finally taking his drumming away. He tried alcohol, drugs, and self-imposed stays in psychiatric hospitals, but they were only temporary halts in his growing madness. The drummer that Clapton relied upon was hailed by artists and producers as their go-to guy and had a steady hand and a quick learning mind. Eventually, he fell into mental illness at a time when it wasn’t fully recognized as its entity, more so based on the effects of drugs and alcohol and depression, and was treated as such. Jim knew he was cracking and reached out for help, but relief never came, not fully so he could live a happy, productive life.
For the first half of this 288-page “journey” through Jim’s life and career, he feels almost like a bit player in his own story. Chapters about his time making Layla and Mad Dogs & Englishmen, touring with Delaney & Bonnie and Souther Hillman Furay Band, are very interesting accounts with stories of the good, the bad, and the ugly, mostly revolving around the leading players: Clapton, Joe Cocker, Leon Russell and the Everly Brothers. Jim pops up when he’s praised for his contributions or falls into a blinding rage with girlfriends like Rita Coolidge. In Chapter 11, Selvin writes, “Jim moved through his life like a ghost. He was friendly but he had no real friends. He hid himself from any close observation. His smile served him; it kept him safe and unquestioned. He was not threatening, so he went unchallenged. Nobody really knew him.”
Jim kept up his session work while playing steadily for others, even when life pulled him down. Marriages failed, he couldn’t be the father he wanted to his daughter, all because of the voices. In late 1979, when Bob Dylan wanted him to join him on tour, Jim turned him down because the voices said no. He turned to a gig with crooner Paul Anka in Vegas, but the voices stopped him. His career, as he’d known it was over.
The second half of the book does indeed put Jim in the spotlight. It’s his story, then, full of disappointment and madness and struggling to survive in a world where he felt essentially alone. No one could help him, and the revelations of attempted self-healing are sad and scary. As he tried to fight off the voices, he would be struck with unbearable pain, and on the night of June 03, 1983, he finally let them take over, and he walked into his mother’s apartment, hitting her with a hammer before stabbing her in the heart. He would spend the rest of his life at a psychiatric prison in California, passing away on March 13, 2023, at age 77.
Selvin, who has written with or about the Stones, Sammy Hagar, Dave Mustaine, and Sly & The Family Stone, among others, tries hard to give Jim’s life a full story. Although numerous people spoke with him about Jim, you walk away mostly knowing the tormented Jim, him having kept his private life as quiet as possible, to keep the voices at bay, to keep others from knowing what was happening inside his psyche.
Jim Gordon was a fantastic drummer whose inner demons tried to kill his passion for the drums; this is the story we ultimately get. But before that journey came to an end, he played on “Layla,” “You’re So Vain,” “The Letter,” “After Midnight,” “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number,” “God Only Knows,” “The Beat Goes On” and “Everybody’s Talkin’” – songs that will remain in our consciousness long after we’ve forgotten the name Jim Gordon.
