The Definitive Interview With Legendary Industrial Drummer, Bill Rieflin

by Gail Worley

If there was ever any doubt that Bill Rieflin is the percussionist god of the Universe, now is the time to get on your knees and believe it. At age 38, Rieflin's career is perhaps one of the most prolific and colorful of any musician currently working. Having spent eight years as Ministry's primary drummer, he's also performed, produced and collaborated with some of industrial and experimental music's most creative and ground- breaking artists: KMFDM, Pigface, Ruby, Peter Murphy, and Nine Inch Nails to name but a few. In June, Rieflin released his first solo record, Birth of Giant, a most unusual pop record featuring significant contributions by avant garde rock guitar legend, Robert Fripp. The only way to get the full picture of Bill Rieflin's amazing career and unique personality is to go back to the beginning. And no one could tell the story quite the way Rieflin tells it himself, so I'll let him do most of the talking.

"I was born in Seattle, or as I always say I was bread-and-buttered here. My first instrument was the "pie-annie" and I think I started playing when I was seven. Then, somewhere in 1970, I found the G Chord on a guitar; I put my finger on the third fret of the high string and strummed it and I said "Hey look, wow! I can play guitar!" Later that year I got some drums for Christmas. I think the drums happened because it was the only instrument left in the neighborhood band, so I had to play drums. I was 10 or 11 maybe. I eventually got rid of those damn things and sold them to another neighbor kid [because] I decided I was going to be a guitar player. I was playing guitar until I was asked to come and fill in for a drummer who wasn't going to make it in some other local band. I hadn't played for a couple years and warned them of that. But, apparently, I was better than their other guy and they asked me to stay (laughs), so I did. That group was called The Telepaths. The Telepaths paved the way for the Blackouts and the Blackouts eventually -- minus one member -- went to go work with [Al] Jourgenson in Ministry. Paul [Barker] was the last of many bass players; Paul joined in 1981. He was living in Germany at the time and his brother, Roland, who was an original Blackout, wrote to him and said "Come to Seattle! Be in our band!" And he did. The rest is, uh, the rest.

G: What is it about your approach to percussion that inspires so many different artists, from Chris Cornell to Peter Murphy to Trent Reznor, to seek you out as a participant on their records?

B: That's a hard question to answer. I must say that I can only imagine that they're deluded: that they imagine that I can do something interesting. I think a better question to ask is "Why do they want me to come and work on their records?," because a lot of people want me to work with them NOT specifically because of my drumming. I'm going to go into a little parenthetical story here. I once went on a long skiing weekend -- not downhill but cross-country -- and there were a bunch of people there that I didn't know. Somebody had the bright idea [that a good] way of introducing ourselves was to tell who we are, what our name is, and then describe what it is that is most bogus about our work.

When it came to my turn, what I said was, "What is most bogus about my work is that I get credit for doing things I DON'T do and I don't get credit for doing things that I DO do" (laughs). How that reflects upon my drumming, I think, is a rather confusing issue. For instance, I think we all have to go back and look at how Ministry operated, which is where I expect people would primarily know my name from. A lot of how Ministry worked was that everybody kind of did everything. There were songs on which I didn't drum at all, and songs on which I did some drumming and programming, songs on which I didn't play drums but played keyboards or guitar. There were songs where Paul Barker did all the programming and the drums and I would play his parts (live), because they sounded so good. It was always a pushing, pulling, big fat vat of taffy and there wasn't any preciousness, in the sense that you can't do this' or it's my territory.' The basic rule of thumb was, really, if you had the right idea, or a good idea, and you could do it, or con somebody else into doing it, well that's what survived at the end of the day.

So to get back to the question, "Why do people ask me to work on their records?" I have no idea. But when they do work with me, usually what they get, they like (laughs). As we know, most of what new music technology does is make everyone sound far better than they really are.

That's why you can hire people whose job it is only to make lousy or mediocre musicians sound really great. It's a fact. They're probably in the Yellow Pages now, the professional Protools guys whose job it is to shine up a lackluster performance. The producer isn't the one doing the work.

The producer is just the one ordering people around. On the other hand, you can argue that there's something really inhuman about that and something is lost as a result.

I don't think you can ask that question in general, I think you can only ask that question in terms of specifics. In terms of Peter Murphy, I think I was invited along because Sascha recommended me and because Peter liked me. We only met once before we started recording and if he didn't like me then I wouldn't have done the record.

G: I guess what ever the reason is, at least you get to work a lot and you get to do some cool things.

B: Well, there you go. Now that's a good approach. Whatever it is that I do, hopefully I would like people to bring me along because I have good ideas, because I'm pleasant to be around, and I can bring a sense of something unexpected to the record.

G: What was your impetus for leaving Ministry?

B: Oh dear, I've never actually talked about this in the press. Let's say that there was no good reason for me to continue on. How's that for an answer?

G: It's a great, concise answer.

B: I mean, yeah, that says it.

G: It was time to go.

B: It was definitely time to go.

G: You know, some people still think you're in the band, according to Paul Barker. I asked him if you played on the new record (Dark Side of The Spoon) and he just went off, like Why does everyone think that?"

B: That's funny, I was talking with Trey Gunn and he said that, apparently, the new Ministry record is featured or got a great review in the new Wired magazine. Trey said "The irony is that you quit the band, they do a record, it becomes really popular, everyone STILL thinks your in the band and the guy who's actually in the band now gets absolutely credit." I've been trying to tell everybody, I'm not in the band.

G: You could get a T-shirt "I am not in Ministry anymore."

B: Yeah, "Not in Ministry." Oh! Oh, I forgot one of my really glib answers! I'm going to give you multiple choice here. If we go back in time and you ask me "Why did you leave Ministry?" My other answer is "I never was in Ministry." Now, how do I come to that conclusion? Well, I think that conclusion is based on observable facts. If you observe the records, all of the records, I am always credited as an "other" musician, and Ministry is Paul and Al. So, I was never in Ministry, therefore I never left the band.

(Click Here for More of Gail Worley's Definitive Interview with Bill Rieflin)

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Birth of a Giant
Dave Liljengren looks at ex-Ministry drummer Bill Rieflin's newfound "aesthetic of messy"

A Ministry of Sound
Gail Worley talks to Paul Barker of Ministry about the making of Dark Side of The Spoon, what it's like to work with Jello Biafra, and the threat of MP3

Let the Banshee Rage
"Seeing Al Jourgensen scream 'Die' in 'So What' is like receiving communion from the Pope," says J. Kim in ths review of Ministry and L7 live at the Paramount Theater

Ministry Photos by Damien M. Jones.

SMP Sets the Industry Afire
J. Kim talks to Seattle "rapunkrial" trio, SMP

There is Only One Type O Negative
Gail Worley interviews Johnny Kelly of Type O Negative

What's Up with d.A. Sebasstian?
Former Kill Switch...Klick industrial icon explores his Creepco dreams and irRegular nightmares, by J. Kim

Hana: First World Tribal Opera
J. Kim talks to Sky Cries Mary's Anisa Romero and Sweet 75's Jeff Greinke about this intriguing project

FirstWorldMusic.com - Bill Rieflin's Label Site