Kenny Aronoff then and now. He got a snare drum and a cymbal at age ten and started his first band called The Alley Cats.( Courtesy of Kenny Aronoff)
the radio and I started buying records to understand what the drummers are doing for the music that gets played on the radio. I’ m playing Credence Clearwater Revival, The Stones, Bad Company, The Beatles, understanding the simplicity yet the genius of these drum parts and how it all fits into the music. The next record was two years later, and then we went on tour, opening up for The Kinks. We did American Bandstand, Solid Gold, Don Kirshner, so I was hanging in there. Then we’ re making this record at Criteria Studios in Miami. It was the hardest record I ever made. [ Mellencamp ] was going through a divorce, was about to lose his record deal, and he almost died right in front of me. We were living in Bloomington and going into town one night to have a couple of drinks. He goes by me and the bass player on a Harley at 80 miles an hour, no helmet, gives us the finger, and all sudden, the bike is down, I see sparks and an explosion. We slam on our brakes and go,“ Holy shit! He’ s dead.” Then we see him limping. What had happened? A dog came out from a farm, hit his bike, bike goes down, he gets on top of the bike, spins down the road, and before he hit a tree, he jumped off.
ANASTASIA: What was Mellencamp like to work for? KENNY: He was a cranky mofo in the studio. Two guys got fired in the band. What this guy needed was ideas. He could write the songs, but he needed input from us, and we were all young and green, and so he was yelling at everybody. I almost got into a fist fight with him. One day, I walked in the studio, and I see the co-producers got this metal box. I said,“ Hey, Don, what’ s that?” He goes,“ Well, the Bee Gees are using it next door. It’ s the new technology. We’ re gonna use it on this song.” This box is called the Linn LM-1 drum machine. I said,“ Drum machine? They replace drummers!” I went into that fight or fight mode. I grabbed the machine and the manual and said,“ I’ m going to be part of this new shit.” I didn’ t know what I was doing, but I programmed what I was playing on the drums. It sounded different because it was stiff, like a machine. Hall & Oats had music on the radio with drum machines, and Phil Collins had“ In the Air Tonight,” which was a drum machine and then the drums come in. I gave the machine back to them, and I’ m sitting there sulking and bummed out. I get called into the control room two hours later, and my boss goes,“ Hey, Aronoff, we need a drum solo right here after the second chorus. This machine is boring.” I say to myself,“ Save the song, save your career. If you don’ t come up with a solution, you’ ll get fired. This is it.” And I’ m also thinking,“ Serve the song.” Back in 1981, they would do drums in little rooms and control the sound. This guy wanted the biggest drum sound in the world, so we put it in a big room, but nobody knew quite where to put the room mics. It was a whole experiment. Finally, it’ s my turn. I do a simple little entrance that would be an explosion. Like,“ Hello, everybody, here I am!” I stopped and looked into control room. I wanted validation. I was young. I didn’ t know about self-validation yet, and I was looking for answers, and I got nine guys in there looking at me, smoking cigarettes, with their thumbs up.
ANASTASIA: That’ s so great! KENNY: Then, I hit a dead end. I kept trying things. I’ ve got half the people telling me what to play and the other half telling me what not to play. My head’ s spinning. I tell myself,“ Dude, you have to figure this out yourself.” I’ m 40 feet from the drums. I’ m going,“ What are you gonna
38 // BERKSHIRE MAGAZINE Spring 2026