On Ratsnake, Chloe Kim transforms the drum kit into a vessel of breath and movement, tracing a dialogue between rhythm and melody that feels both ancient and newly imagined. The Seoul-born, Sydney-based drummer channels her cross-cultural fluency into a sound that moves between precision and abandon while harnessing a sense of control and surrender. Named for a dream her mother had before her birth, Ratsnake invokes the serpent as a symbol of resilience and fortune; as an emblem of creative inheritance. It’s a record that glows with purpose and curiosity. In the selections that follow, Kim shares the pieces that helped guide her path, revealing the sounds that shaped her sense of rhythm, texture, and the emotional power of percussion.
Ratsnake is out on October 31 via Kou Records. Pre-order HERE.
1. Bendik Giske – Slipping (Aya Been Caught Mix)
The constant forward motion of the pulse is what captivates me most in this thwack. Even though the emphasis on pulse shifts and changes, there’s always a sense of momentum pulling the music along. The way different layers of sound and clicks rise and fade creates this illusion of metric modulation even when it is not actually happening. I love the density of music too. In the middle, there’s this metronome sound that comes in. I love this, and don’t think any drummers would dislike it. The entire track is full of clever gestures, both rhythmically and sonically.
2. Björk – Venus As A Boy
I LOVE how the groove never changes in this track. The drumbeat stays the same throughout without dynamic changes (only occasional tram-like sounds and the addition of tabla that reinforces the transitions), and so does the bass line (which comes in and out). Yet the energy keeps building. That contrast highlights the voice as the main source of strength in the track.
I love when drumming is a constant repetitive motion. Just its presence alone provides movement, a sense of perpetual motion, without needing to be ‘fancy’ or ‘different’.
I loved it when I heard it in the film Léon: The Professional. It matched the narrative so perfectly: Leon being such a calm, quiet presence, while this extreme job (I will stop here for the spoiler alerts).
3. Steve Reich – Clapping Music
What attracts me the most is the simple concept, carried by strong and clear articulation. The piece shifts the pattern by one beat at a time, like a canon, but it’s done with just one pitch, clapping, and the natural timbre of hands. That’s genius to me. The syncopation of short and long notes gets really highlighted when it’s performed well. I’ve been enjoying playing each line myself with both hands, which is actually quite a challenge to learn.
4. Casey Cangelosi – Blink
This is one of the most complicated-looking works I’ve come across. It’s multi-disciplinary. The movement of the arm holding the light is not only rhythmical but also feels like a piece of contemporary visual art or even dance. From 7:20, it becomes very clear that the light is replacing the drumsticks. The accuracy from both performers, Casey and Aaron Tamborne, is just incredible.
5. Kim Dae Hwan – Large Buk, Harley Pipe
Kim Dae Hwan was an incredible multi-artist; he even wrote the entire Heart Sutra, 283 words, on a single grain of rice. As a drummer, he was just as fearless, sometimes putting drumsticks between all of his fingers. Large Buk, Harley Pipe is one of those experiments: a duo performance between his percussion and the raw sound of a Harley motorcycle pipe. Sometimes, before I play a solo, I’ll listen to this track to cleanse my ears and remind myself to be brave and creative.
6. Korea’s East Coast Shamanistic Ritual Music
From what I understand, Deureonggaengi is the first of five repertoires where shamans try to accept the spirit of a dead person, giving them a chance to speak to their family before moving on to the eternal place. I was introduced to it by my drum mentor, Dr Simon Barker, who has spent decades studying Korean traditional drumming. What I love is the complication of rhythms and the speed (yet every note still comes through clearly), and the interaction between the cymbals and drums is phenomenal.
7. Moondog: “Fog on the Hudson (425 West 57th Street)
What excites me about this track is the combination of field recording with a statement-like delivery of percussion sounds.
