When a featured sideman becomes a far bigger attraction than his employer, it’s time for him to wrap his sandwiches in a road map and go it alone. That’s the story of Gene Krupa’s rise to fame,

A handsome devil, to his credit, he was also blessed with great presence and an exhilarating technique. The bottom line – Gene Krupa made the drums sexy. He learned much from his lengthy sojourn with Benny Goodman’s Big Band (‘Sing Sing, Sing’) in the 1930s and just as important, the internal dynamics of Goodman’s trio and quartet which he later replicated in the 50s. At all times, Krupa was hell-bent on making his music the most exciting on the block and his own playing precision perfect. So, when Krupa eventually took to the road, he was keen to keep up with current trends (‘Calling Doctor Gillespie’) employing the writing talents of a young Gerry Mulligan (‘Disc Jockey Jump’), similarly he had a flair for hiring only the best – Roy Eldridge, Anita O’Day and Charlie Ventura. Just as crucial to his continued success, Krupa also had an ear for a good tune (‘Let Me Off Uptown’). When, in the early-1950s, running a big band was no longer a financial proposition, Krupa refused to be wrong-footed by this situation. He met it head on fronting either a gung ho trio and quartet, engaging in crowd-pleasing JATP drum battles with Buddy Rich and, in 1959, was portrayed by Sal Mineo in the Hollywood biopic The Gene Krupa Story (aka Drum Crazy). Such was Krupa’s genius that his star never waned to where his influence extended far beyond the jazz fraternity with both Keith Moon and John Bonham citing him as an inspiration.