Big band drummers don’t today receive the sort of appreciation that they should. It’s pretty obvious, though, that bop has really supplanted all other styles of jazz to become the codified standard of the genre. That clearly doesn’t mean that players from other eras don’t still possess talent and ability. Buddy Rich, whose career did persist well past the declining popularity of swing, may well be one of the best five or so drummers in all of jazz. Today, he might be remembered as much for his part in a few Seinfeld episodes where Jerry deftly uses quotes cribbed from secret recordings made of the band leader freaking out – a personal favorite being, "If I have to tell you again, we're gonna take it outside and I'm gonna show you what it's like!"
But in addition to being accidentally funny and a pretty good band leader, Rich endeavored in 1968 to combine eastern and western musics alongside fellow percussionist Alla Rakha. Being exposed to the west as the accompanist of Ravi Shankar, Alla Rakha wound up influencing everyone from Mickey Hart (of Grateful Dead fame, but also helmed the Diga Rhythm Band, which peppered its percussion based music with eastern themes) to other jazzbos of the time.
By 1968, though, Shankar and violinist Yehudi Menuhin had already recorded a number of albums combining the two disparate musics. The difference between that pair’s work and the Rich/Rakha album Rich à la Rakha being that the latter focused a great deal on rhythms as opposed to melodic figures. It still wasn’t the brain child of either player – and as Ravi Shankar served as conductor to the entire deal, it’s safe to assume that he had more than a limited role in the arrangements of each song.
Regardless of who did what, though, Rich à la Rakha might be as entertaining as any of those Shankar and Menuhin discs. The contrasts represented on this 1968 outing simply become more clear. And while that might be construed as a criticism, being able to hear Rich play the set along with Alla Rakha’s unending beat is a sound unmatched elsewhere in record music’s history. The electric Miles Davis groups may have been melding rock and jazz around the same time, but the bridges crossed on these sessions between Rich and Alla Rakha reach further than what would be needed to assimilate two American styles.
Rich sounds a bit restrained in comparison to his compatriot here by virtue of moving his style to fit a more Eastern sound – although this disc might be referred to as many things, traditional Indian music it is not. “Khanda Kafi,” the album opener finds Rich inserting in a military style cadence atop of Alla Rakha’s concoction. It’s jarring at first and also not the strongest offering here, but the general thesis of the disc is related rather promptly. “Nagma E Raksh” lends a better portrayal of what the duo was looking towards as Rich eventually incorporates each part of his set – sans cymbals – into the work. Perhaps not full conceived, Rich à la Rakha still possesses enough ‘60s charm to be an inviting listen even today.

