The legendary drummer Kenny Aronoff, featured in the documentary Hired Gun, unveils the intricate process behind the creation of one of John Mellencamp’s most enduring hits, “Jack & Diane,” offering a unique glimpse into the song’s rhythmic backbone. For musicians and fans alike, the story of how this iconic track came to life is a testament to collaborative creativity and the pursuit of sonic perfection in the recording studio.
John Mellencamp’s songwriting approach was remarkably consistent. He’d walk into rehearsals armed with a new song, either strumming it on his acoustic guitar while singing or playing a simple cassette demo. For Kenny Aronoff, the challenge was always to elevate these raw song ideas. His mission was to devise a drum beat that wasn’t just rhythmically solid but also imbued with a unique coolness, something that would ignite inspiration within Mellencamp and the band. The goal was to sculpt the song into a radio-ready anthem, a chart-topping single. Mellencamp envisioned Aronoff’s drum parts as integral “hook lines” themselves, a testament to the drummer’s crucial role in shaping his signature sound, and this vision was realized in many of their collaborations.
The band’s collective task was to take Mellencamp’s foundational songs and mold them into captivating arrangements that would seize listeners’ attention and demand repeated plays. While everyone recognized the inherent appeal of “Jack & Diane” and its hit potential, the initial approach felt somewhat conventional. The obvious musical choices, while competent, didn’t quite capture the magic needed to make the song truly exceptional, a sentiment John Mellencamp himself keenly felt.
Upon first hearing “Jack & Diane,” Aronoff instinctively played a straightforward beat: accented eighth notes on the hi-hat, a cross-stick on beats two and four on the snare (which later evolved into a solid backbeat), and the bass drum hitting on beat one, the “ah” of beat one, and the “&” of beat two. This foundational groove, combined with the band’s evolving parts, worked well for the intro, verse, and chorus. However, it lacked the dynamic range and development required to sustain interest throughout the entire song. New sonic textures and structural ideas were essential to prevent the track from becoming monotonous.
The band operated under a crucial principle: any musical element that sounded lackluster in the rehearsal space would only be amplified and worsened within the sterile environment of the recording studio. The studio’s unforgiving acoustics magnify imperfections. Therefore, the pressure was on to develop distinctive parts and arrangements for “Jack & Diane,” knowing that without these crucial enhancements, the song risked being relegated to album filler rather than a standout track.
The American Fool album sessions took place at Criteria Studios in Miami, a renowned recording facility. Intriguingly, the Bee Gees were working in the adjacent studio. Occasionally passing their room, Aronoff and the band would hear the repetitive, programmed groove of the song they were crafting. It was a stark departure from rock and roll sensibilities, showcasing the Bee Gees’ exploration of new sonic territories. Then, unexpectedly, producer Don Gehman walked into their recording space carrying a Linn 1 drum machine – the very instrument the Bee Gees were experimenting with. Aronoff’s immediate internal reaction was apprehension. The prospect of a drum machine supplanting real drums on their tracks was unsettling. Drum machines, while emerging, weren’t yet commonplace in mainstream 1981 rock music. However, John Mellencamp’s focus was singular: achieving a hit single, and he was open to exploring unconventional methods to get there.
Without hesitation, Aronoff took charge of the Linn 1. He quickly studied the manual and began programming the very beat he had been performing on his acoustic drum kit. He ingeniously used the Linn 1’s floor tom sound to emulate his kick drum and its tambourine sound to mimic his hi-hat pattern. Handclaps were programmed to replace the snare drum backbeats. Crucially, each sound programmed on the Linn 1 was routed through individual outputs on the machine, feeding into separate tracks on the 24-track, 2-inch analog tape they were using for recording. This meticulous separation allowed for precise mixing and control over each element of the drum part.
Kenny Aronoff in the studio during the recording of "Jack & Diane"
After meticulously programming the drum machine parts, Aronoff retreated to the lounge for a game of pool, seeking a mental break from the intense studio environment. Soon after, Mellencamp summoned him back, announcing, “We want a drum solo after the second chorus.” Aronoff’s initial thought was disbelief. A drum solo in a ballad? The concept seemed counterintuitive. He wrestled with the challenge of how to execute a compelling drum solo within the delicate framework of “Jack & Diane.”
The band dedicated an entire day to meticulously crafting drum sounds in the studio’s large recording room. Contrary to prevailing studio practices of the time, which favored smaller rooms for a controlled, tight drum sound, Mellencamp desired a massive, expansive drum sound. This bold sonic direction was relatively uncommon for commercial radio songs in 1981, with Phil Collins’ groundbreaking use of a huge drum sound on “In the Air Tonight” being a notable exception and a potential source of inspiration.
When the moment arrived for his drum solo entrance, Aronoff opted for simplicity and impact. He began by playing on the “&” of beat four on both the kick and snare drums. The reaction from the control room was immediately positive, with thumbs up signals all around. However, John Mellencamp remained unconvinced, expressing dissatisfaction with Aronoff’s initial ideas. Aronoff went into the control room to discuss his approach. The ensuing group suggestions, while well-intentioned, proved more confusing than helpful. As he walked back to his drum kit, a stark realization hit him: failure to deliver a compelling part could lead to Mellencamp bringing in another drummer. This prospect was unacceptable.
With each step back to his kit – twenty-five feet… twenty… fifteen… ten… five… – Aronoff’s mind raced, still searching for the right musical idea. He sat down at his drums, and inspiration struck. The concept of playing the same rhythmic pattern he’d been using, but starting it an eighth note later, suddenly crystallized. Instead of beginning on beat one, he shifted the starting point to the “&” of beat one. Then, deviating from the conventional drum fill of descending toms, he ascended up the toms. Just as he completed this upward tom fill, Mellencamp, finally approving, yelled into Aronoff’s headphones, “Hit a cymbal crash cymbal!” Aronoff immediately complied, then transitioned into a descending drum fill, consciously emulating the iconic Phil Collins-esque sound. Running out of toms, he concluded the solo with a quarter-note triplet pattern across the snare, rack tom, and floor tom. This spontaneous burst of creativity, this “musical idea,” as Aronoff describes it, was complete. John Mellencamp loved it.
With the drum solo solidified, it was time to lock into the groove for the remainder of the song. Aronoff returned to the original beat, injecting it with increased power and intensity, driving the rhythm with sixteenth notes on the hi-hat. Approaching beat four of each measure, he executed a simultaneous hit on the snare and floor tom, creating a powerful sonic explosion. This impactful technique was inspired by Steve Gadd’s Mozambique beat, which Aronoff had heard on a Chick Corea record.
A point of debate arose between Mellencamp and Aronoff: whether to maintain the hi-hat sixteenth notes throughout this section. They ultimately settled on Aronoff playing sixteenth notes on beats three “e” “&” “ah,” escalating in volume from soft to loud. This dynamic crescendo built power and excitement into beat four, culminating in the combined snare and floor tom hit. Adding another layer of creative input, Mick Ronson, David Bowie’s former guitarist, who was in the studio with them for a week, suggested to Mellencamp that the chorus be sung a cappella over Aronoff’s powerful drum groove. This ingenious idea heightened the song’s dynamic range and emotional impact.
The impact of “Jack & Diane” was undeniable. The song soared to number one on the charts, and the American Fool album followed suit, also reaching the top spot. Even thirty-five years later, “Jack & Diane” remains a radio staple, a testament to its enduring appeal. For Kenny Aronoff, this song was more than just a hit; it was a career catalyst, his “big break.” The American Fool album’s success was further cemented by winning two Grammy Awards and achieving multi-platinum sales, solidifying “Jack & Diane” and Kenny Aronoff’s drumming as integral parts of rock and roll history.
