Turning Coal into Diamonds, or How To Turbo-Charge Your Practice Routine

A study conducted at Duke University of Texas at Austen (see below) uncovered some interesting things about practicing. While raw quantity remains important, the quality of practice can have a dramatic impact on results. Here are the main points the researchers pulled from the study.

Start out slowly
The study reinforces what some of us already know: Slow down if you want to speed up your progress. Then work steadily towards performance tempo.

Play it with feeling
The players who made the best progress adopted a musical approach as soon as possible during the learning process. It may help to play mechanically at first, but as soon as the kinks are worked out, start playing music.

Mindfulness is the single biggest factor
The study found that the students who intensified their focus during the challenging bits did better overall. They remained aware of the parts that presented a challenge, anticipated them, and slowed down and played them more intentionally. 

Prepare for and polish the boo-boos
The top students prepared for the boo-boos and they also learned from them. This suggests that, when you encounter a trouble spot, the best reaction is, "Aha, there's something I can work on". Isolate the problem, analyze what might (or did) happen, slow it down and work it through applying mindfulness and musical sensitivity. Seize the mistake as an opportunity. It will be time well spent.

It’s Not How Much; It’s How/Characteristics of Practice Behavior and Retention of Performance Skills; Robert A. Duke, The University of Texas at Austin, Amy L. Simmons, The University of Texas at San Antonio, Carla Davis Cash, Texas Tech University, Lubbock. Journal of Research in Music Education Volume 56 Number 4, January 2009 310-321.

For the original report, visit https://cml.music.utexas.edu/assets/pdf/DukeEtAl2.pdf

"Umm, it's still a bit loud"

It's a well-meaning bit of feedback, and it can be one of the most difficult to accommodate. We musicians are a noisy bunch. Some of us can't get enough of it (I once played with a fellow who said he couldn't sleep unless his ears were ringing). And we drummers are so used to making noise that we've spend virtually no time being quiet. 

Aside from practicing low-volume techniques, there are a number of things you can do to help lower the volume when the occasion requires it.

Start with the sticks. Go lighter ... as light as you can stand. If skinny sticks are too much of a turn-off, try maple. Maple is lighter and softer and produces a softer tone. Worn-out maple is quieter still. As for the bass drum, play flat foot and pick up a lambs-wool beater.

Brush up on brushes. There are also brush-like products and 'bundles' available that aim to give you lower volume while providing a variety of tonal options. Besides, playing with brushes is ultra-cool.

Big drums are louder than small drums. The difference can be minor, but a 13 or 14 inch floor tom will definitely put out less sound than a 16 inch one. Or maybe a micro-kit would suit your style.

Tune for sensitivity. Gut wrenching low sounds are great, but they require you to hit hard. You want your drums to respond to a light touch. That means tune higher -- and perhaps use thinner heads to increase sensitivity.

Cymbals are the worst culprit. In general, you want smaller, thinner cymbals. Look for smaller crash cymbals, medium-thin hi-hats, and perhaps a low-volume ride such as a flat ride. Sometimes a broken cymbal fits the bill.

Here's a technical option: Place a microphone near your drums where it will pick up the entire band. Feed that into headphones that you control. This will give you a better idea of the front-of-house mix and in real time.

Of course you could just get an electronic set and let the house set the level while you crank up your headphones.

Tessi-what?

Tessitura! There's a catchy word for you. It refers to the useful pitch range of a musical instrument. In some cases it's fixed, as in a piano -- unless you arrange to have extra keys installed, you get what you get. In wind instruments, tessitura is determined by the instrument, aided by the skill of the player (check out Nils Henning Orsted Pederson at the low end and Henry Red Allen at the top end). A guitar works best in the ‘guitar range’, and while you can play around with other tunings, you can't go more than a few tones either direction. Same with the rest of the string family: too high or too low just doesn't work.

One would think that drums, with their broad tonal range and facility for different tunings, would have an almost unlimited tessitura. They do not. For any drum, there are points at the top and bottom of their range where they just stop producing a quality tone. Tune too high and you lose tone, body and resonance. Tune too low and again, no tone and no resonance ... and no stick response.

A drum's tessitura is determined by shell construction, diameter, depth, weight, and head choice. Lighter (i.e. thinner) drums tend to have a lower and more limited tuning range than heavier drums. A heavier head can be tuned lower than a lighter head. Large drums tune nicely to lower pitches and smaller drums are better at higher tunings. While a 10" tom can be tuned fairly low, below a certain point it will stop working. Same with that 18" floor tom. Tune it too high and it's character will collapse. Higher still and you might break something.

Most drum companies are hip to the tonal range of various drums, hence the wide range of shell sizes on offer. DW goes a step further and inscribes a shell's resonant pitch on the inside the drum. You don't have to tune to that pitch, but it's not a bad starting point.

I tend to tune drums to the upper-middle of their range. I find that tone quality is maximized, as are resonance, punch, projection, and articulation. This tonal range also blends very well with other instruments.

There are lots of ways to tune drums and lots of theories on how to proceed … no wrong answers here. But if you find that a drum just isn't giving you what you want, maybe you're trying to tune it outside its tessi-thingy.

Sometimes Less Really Is Less

A local band were doing a worthy rendition of Pink Floyd's “Comfortably Numb”. The drummer sat at a borrowed 4-piece, 3-cymbal set. As the tune progressed, it was obvious that fills, comping and interpretation lacked the colour and interest of the originals ... no melodic transitions on the toms, no deep rumble from massive floor toms, the same crash tone on every accent. The drummer did a great job of accommodating, but even one or two more sounds would have helped tremendously.

Look at any prog-rock group on stage and you'll see a major real estate development toward the rear. That’s where the drummer/percussionist sets up. Starting with perhaps two bass drums (though not required), the setup includes lots of rack toms, 2-3 minimum and as many as 5 or more. Floor toms may flank the set, 1 or 2 on each side, and perhaps a secondary snare. And flying overhead, a raft of cymbals. And maybe tymps, bells and gongs behind it all.

I've tried it both ways ... and found out that I don't have the discipline for an 8-piece set. But I also don't feel ‘fulfilled’ on a minimalist set. I prefer a fusion set: two mounted toms and one floor tom. The addition of that single tom adds at least a half-dozen tonal combinations that weren't available before.

Cymbals are another area where more can be better. Some of the old jazzers made do with 2 cymbals. But they always chose cymbals that had flexibility. It was common to say every cymbal was a ride cymbal and every cymbal was a crash cymbal. This to me is a musical choice par excellence. I've heard too many extended sets with a plethora of crash cymbals that sound virtually the same.

I guess what I'm leading up to is that your drum set must match your music and your playing style as well as what it is you're trying to accomplish with your playing. If your music calls for melodic toms, then maybe a fusion kit won't provide enough tonal variety. And if you're in a cover band that does top 40 from the ‘50s & ‘60s, then a 12-piece set is not just overkill, it’s just plain wrong.

"You Can Observe a Lot Just by Watching"

Indeed, as Yogi Berra so wisely pointed out, all it takes to 'observe' is to watch, or in our case, listen and watch. If you're serious about your craft, you probably listen to music all the time. And you listen carefully to how your favourite drummers do their thing. You want to know how they get things done, how they create those sounds. Actually seeing how it's done it can help a lot, and the best way to do this is from a seat near the band stand.

I'd not spent time working on my hands with a coach, so I started working out with a local pipe & drum band. I'd always admired pipe drumming, so I eagerly attended the weekly sessions. This group brought in a world-class pipe drummer, Doug Stronach, for a lesson every other week. As well as following along with the exercises, I watched Doug's hands carefully. You see, this guy was a world champion player, and had studied and worked with champion players for decades, and his hands were about as good as they get. So I concentrated on his hands and tried to make my motions and positioning match him completely. Time well spent!

One thing Buddy Rich could count on was drummers watching him like a hawk. And not just drum students. Even the greats would watch Buddy to find out how he did things. Mel Tormé had this story to share:

"Johnny [Carson] related how, when Buddy was appearing in the south of France, Carson saw drummers Shelley Manne and Bobby Rosengarden standing way off to the side of the stage. "What’re you guys doing, standing over here?” he wanted to know. Shelly looked at him and said, quite seriously, 'We’re watching Buddy’s foot'." (As quoted in Mel Tormé’s Traps The Drum Wonder)

And if observing is good enough for Shelly Manne ...

Doug Stronach: http://www.dougstronach.com/

Traps the Drum Wonder, by Mel Tormé
Published by Hal Leonard
ISBN-10: 1888408030
ISBN-13: 978-1888408034

Why I like Emanuelle Caplette

I love watching drum videos. But there's something about many of them that perplexes me, especially with many of the “academic” type videos. Some of these people don't seem to be having much fun ... or no fun at all. I know that we need to take our craft seriously, but I’ve seen videos that almost seem like the presenter is in some sort of pain. A few take such a reverent stance that you'd think they were playing in a monastery.

And on the other hand, there’s Ms Caplette. In every one of her videos she seems to be having the time of her life. And there simply is no defence when her enthusiasm hits you full-on. I love it! If I were to create a video, I hope I'd be able to express even a fraction of this kind of joy. Doesn't mean I'm not serious about drums -- at times I'm as serious as a heart attack.

It's Not Rocket Surgery
Or as Cher put it, "We're not discovering a cure for cancer here." Yes, what we do is important in a lot of ways, and we need to take it seriously, but that doesn't require a funereal atmosphere.

No Fun, No Gain
If pain is nature's way of telling you to slow down, then 'fun' must be nature's way of saying, "This is good for you”. I'm very serious about this having fun business. Numerous studies have shown that we learn better and perform better when we're having fun with -- or at least feeling pretty good about -- the task at hand. In my own teaching, I want to see smiles from time to time --  'cuz if it's not fun, it'll show in the results.

Bonus Points
Fun has many benefits. It lowers stress, improves learning and retention, and enables you relax and play better with less effort. You're more receptive to input and your enthusiasm can help build group cohesion. Plus it’s way more fun.

www.emmanuellecaplette.com

The Bobby Hackett Method

When asked if he did anything special to prepare himself for a performance, the great jazz coronet player Bobby Hackett said, "I just go out there and try to do it right."

 

Hmm ... doesn't seem like an overly difficult job description. We could assume that the cornetist just hoped to make no outright mistakes. But for a musician of his calibre, mistakes are pretty much a non-issue. So what, then, did he mean by do it right?

Deciding what's right can be difficult. The difference between good and not-so-good is often subjective, and the interpretation can be very personal. And doing it right can include knowing what not to play.

Then there are the times when doing what's right isn't the right way to go. I'm sure you've been in a situation where the theoretically correct thing didn't work for that tune. It's also possible to miss opportunities when trying to play something 'by the book'. Playing with correct technique may not suit either. Then it's time to do it wrong, and that can be a great stimulus to creativity and discovery.

Here's the list I use to help me do it right:

• Be as competent as I can be: Continue to grow musically and never stop learning
• No mistakes or clunkers: Know the material inside-out
• Right style, tradition: Assumes I've done my homework
• Right energy, feel and passion: It has to work for the song and the context
• No extraneous crap: Always be tasteful
• Creative: Try to bring something new, fresh
• 'Busyness' level: I've played too busy and also not busy enough!

A simple and always valid goal is to try to do it 'better than last time'. And if you are keeping all these other things in mind, then you're ready to go!

Know Your Limits

... and then plow past them as hard as you can.

We're not talking about a gambling habit here. If you're serious about drums (and life in general) you'll put some time into identifying both your personal strengths and weaknesses.

Working with our strengths is easy because it's self-rewarding. If you try something new and it works out well, you're rewarded and are therefore more inclined to try it again. Our weaknesses? Well we'd rather not even think about them, or maybe we're more comfortable denying them altogether.

Confronting our weaknesses will often make us stronger. The mere fact that we're tackling the issue can give us confidence and a feeling of competence. Acknowledging and working on a weakness will also help to minimize its impact on our lives and can even open up opportunities and discoveries.

I believe I've mentioned before that I have a poor memory. It's pretty hard to ignore because something or someone will point it out to me just about every day. And so I've worked on various techniques to help me remember, or at least to not lose track quite so badly. For example, I analyze tunes extensively to help me remember them. I chart them, make cue cards and sometimes even transcribe them. These exercises and systems have resulted in some respectable improvements.

Sometimes a simple work-around will get the job done when things just aren't coming together. Having trouble playing fast tempos? Find some stickings and patterns that give you a fast sound with less stress. Can't get your head around some complicated beat? Reduce it to its essential components:  pare it down, eliminate some of the complexity. Have trouble remembering things? Keep a notepad handy. Trouble identifying tunes? Create a database of first lines and keep it on your cell phone.

No matter what 'limit' is giving you trouble, you can probably find a solution. So don't be afraid to acknowledge your stumbling blocks, and then look for creative ways to overcome them.

Holding it All Together

The band was about to play their final number and the leader was introducing the band members one last time. It was a bit redundant because the line-up was a who's who of Canadian jazz players. Finally the MC announced the drummer, adding that he was the glue that held it all together, and all the band members nodded in agreement.

That struck me as a bit odd. These were simply the ‘best of the best’, so why would any glue be required? These musicians could do anything. Still, the consensus seemed to be that the drummer was the one who kept things on track.

It's both a flattering and an intimidating assessment. It's nice to have someone say you're such an important part of the ensemble, but its also a lot of responsibility.

In a way, the drummer is the ‘floor manager’ of the music. While the leader may pick the tunes, set the tempos and kick things off, successful completion of a tune requires someone to take care of how it all develops. And the drummer is the ideal choice. A good drummer, one with the right skill set, helps to illustrate the time, solidifies the rhythmic structure, marks the different points in the tune, and manages the energy level during solos and different sections of the tune.

A drummer has quite a bit of power. Even in a high-volume situation, the drummer can usually compete, and our drive (or lack of) can have a big effect on the music. We're like the tiller of a ship. We can determine the direction with a simple adjustment. We can also make things a bit scary if we're too heavy-handed on the tiller.

A drummer is a go-between. We communicate the time and energy to the other band members. For example, in a jazz band, the bass player's job is to lay down a steady bass line. The drummer can then help communicate the time to the other players. This will also give the bass player more freedom and lighten his/her load.

And we’re arbiters. If you have two musicians pulling in opposite directions -- guitar player plays on top, bass player plays behind, for example -- the  drummer can find a spot in the middle and help these two work together.

Sure it's a big job, but somebody's got to do it.

Re-visioning the Snare Drum

It's somewhat ironic that the snare drum is the centre of a drummer's universe and yet it’s not often exploited for the rich assortment of sounds it can produce. Here’s a quick guide to some of what you can find in a well-adjusted snare drum, and where to find it.

The Rule of Thirds 
Think of the playing area as a target. The bulls-eye sounds the driest is and usually the loudest. The very middle of that region -- a spot about the size of a quarter (see Fig. 1 below) -- gives the fattest, driest sound. It’s also the least interesting, but move slightly off centre (Fig. 2) and the sound begins to liven up with lots of oomph and very little ring. The middle band of the target is your sweet zone (Fig. 3). Hit anywhere in that area and it will usually sound good, with a nice balance of volume, resonance and overtones. The majority of your playing will likely be in this zone

The region near the rim (Fig. 4) is the quietest and also the ringiest. It’s where we put tape and other stuff to control the ring. But ring can be a good thing -- this area is great for Latin type sounds.

That’s four potential sounds. But wait ... there's more!

Special Effects 
Stick Shot: This is not a rim shot. It’s when you put the bead of one stick on the drum and hit it with the other stick.

Cross Stick: This is not a rim shot either. It’s when you lay your stick across the drum and click one end of it on the rim. This can yield a lot of different sounds depending on where the stick meets the head, where you hit the rim, and whether the stick is butt first or tip first.

Rim Shot: There are three types of rim shot. The basic rim shot is played by striking the rim and the head at the same time, in this case, within the sweet zone (as in Fig. 3).

Gock Shot: This requires a bigger bite with the stick. Play a rim shot, but extend the tip of your stick past the mid-point of the drum for a very fat sound (Fig. 5).

Ping Shot: This is the one you hear a lot in Latin music. It’s a rim shot played in the outer third of the drum, producing a cutting, high-pitched, timbale-like sound (Fig. 6).

There are more possibilities, but this should be enough to get you started.

A Drummer's 7 Stages of Enlightenment

These are stages that I think I've passed through on my journey.  Please note - this is my totally made up view of a drummer’s possible emotional evolution based on one drummer’s patchy memories. I repeat: I made it all up! That said, do any of these sound familiar?

Stage One: Having Fun Making Noise
The drums -- perhaps a gift from unsuspecting parents or a well-meaning uncle -- are new, fun, LOUD. So goal number 1 is to play hard, fast, loud, and with total abandon. Even better if some of it actually sounds like a beat.

Stage Two: Having Fun Making Music
You have a few decent beats plus a couple of fills in your arsenal, and now you've been asked to join a band. You may be the least or most capable player in the band. No matter, it's a real band and you're making real music -- your music.

Stage Three: Hero Worship
Your journey to becoming an actual drummer is going along well,  and then you hear/see the drummer who changes everything for you. So you get hold of every recording this person has made and study them over and over and over. Your passion knows no limits.

Stage Four: Getting Serious
You’re admiration of ‘drummer X’ has blossomed into an obsession with technique.  Plus your list of hero drummers has grown too long -- there are just too many good drummers. The only way to handle this is to branch out and embrace other techniques, other approaches.

Stage Five: Anger
Some call it a plateau., but that’s too gentle a concept for the feeling you get when you’ve put in hour after hour in the practice room and yet see no progress in your playing. Anyone would be pissed.

Stage Six: Disillusionment
My left foot sucks. My hands suck. My funk playing sucks. This isn't just a plateau. I'm getting nowhere. Maybe I'm doomed to suck ... I probably should just pack it in.

Stage Seven: One-ness
Well, I survived all the 'stages', and it wasn't all that bad. I learned a lot from all my perambulations -- blind alleys included -- and today I feel good about my playing and about where I am, both musically and professionally.  Now I can really focus on the music without all those distractions.

Are You Looking At Me?

I was waiting for something or other, and picked up a magazine to help pass the time. In an article on career management, I came across the most disturbing question ever, and it's a concept that I've kept in mind ever since. The question is this: "Who's watching your career?" ... Ouch!

Well, who is watching? Worst case answer is nobody, but I seriously doubt that there is no one who is interested in you and your musical journey. The challenge then is to discover who is interested in you and whether that interest can be nurtured toward some positive outcomes.

Society has rediscovered only in the last few years the importance of mentors. There's always something to be gained from having someone more experienced to look up to. And if that person is hip to the “pay it forward” concept, there will be two of you looking out for your progress and your career. This can be a great morale booster.

Mentors are invaluable for elevating your craft in a number of ways. They help you to learn the ropes and avoid the pitfalls, and to set goals and targets. They also model 'best practices'. They may even introduce you to their network.

The best situation is when a top pro takes an interest in you. It can be as simple as an invite to jam, and it can be as involved as a mentor grooming a mentee for greater things. It means other people -- talented, connected, influential people -- are keeping an eye on you. Even better, they’ll likely think of you when opportunities arise. A lot of careers have been launched when a teacher recommended a student for a high-profile job.

Teachers quite often evolve into mentors. My own student-teacher relationship was like this. My teacher and I spent a lot of time together outside the lesson hall and we became good friends. I've tried to repay this by carrying his message to my own students and mentees.

A mentor can be from any industry, although it makes sense to favour someone from the music business. Teacher, band-mate, music store personnel, agent/manager, good friend ... all are potential mentors.

Or maybe you're the one who's in a position to mentor a young (or at least newer) player. This is always a great experience, as the benefits go both ways. Aside from all the warm fuzzies involved, it's good experience, it helps build your character, and you can connect with your passion for music in a variety of ways.

The Voice Of Doom

We were sitting around discussing our usual topic: drums. When we got around to the topic of tuning, the more senior drummer among us (defined as someone who'd actually had some real gigs) said:

"A drum should go Doom."

 He was absolutely right, and I've kept this as my model for tuning ever since because it works in almost any situation.

Is it envelope or envelop?
The scientific way to look at sound is to analyze its envelope from start to finish. The sound envelope consists of Attack, Decay, Sustain, and Release (ADSR). The attack is that initial spike, which quickly yields to the decay. Then we have sustain. That's when the sound continues on for a bit. And then it goes away, the release. We may not think of drums as having much in the way of sustain, but it's critical for resonance and getting a good tom sound.

And there it is: Attack/Decay: 'D', the Sustain: 'OO', and the release: 'M'. Here's how it fits against an ADSR graph:

Glissando (a.k.a. Pitch-bend a.k.a. Twang)
When you strike a drum head, you stretch it ever so slightly. This causes the pitch to rise ... slightly. Normally you won’t really hear this, but certain tunings can make the ‘twang’ quite noticeable, hence the 'falling' nature of the Doom analogy.

Boom vs. Doom
Since childhood, we’ve all accepted that the bass drum in a parade beats out “Boom-boom-boom-boom”. It’s just physics. A large object resonates at a lower frequency and also produces fewer high overtones. So the sibilance that gives us the attack in Doom is missing in the bass drum. Hence the softer attack of a ‘Buh’ rather than 'Duh'.

So I guess all that remains is to ask, are your drums doomed?

A Bit of Beginner's Luck

I was glancing through a potential student's exercise book and noticed a comment he'd added on a page of rock rhythms: “I can play these easy.” However, from watching him play it was clear that he could not. So what gave him the impression he could? Likely he was able to play them a little bit ... at one time ... in isolation ... alone in the practice room. 

 

When you're working through a group of exercises, it's not uncommon to be able to breeze through a 

few of the more advanced ones after a good warm-up on related items. To me this amounts to plain beginner's luck, and it's too easy to conclude that you’ve reached some major milestone. Yes, you did play them, and probably well enough ... for a few bars. But they won't have become part of your vocabulary. That takes a lot more than a few lucky executions. 

A practice standard I like to use is to play an exercise for a full 5 minutes non-stop. It's a practical length of time -- about as long as a song might last. If I can play something for 5 minutes, I'll probably be OK out in the field. But I’ve notice an interesting phenomenon with this approach. 

The beginner's luck idea might predict that you'd be able to play a new exercise, more or less, for a few bars at least, and often more. Press on and you'll likely find that things start to fall apart around the 1 minute mark. Struggle onward and you might be OK until around the 4 minute mark, where it begins to fall apart again. And while that last minute may be a challenge, pressing on will be worth it. 

I've always been intrigued by the consistency of this phenomenon. Of course I have no explanation for it, but it does suggest that anything practiced for less than a minute -- the beginners luck zone -- doesn't get you anywhere, and even 2 to 3 minutes might not suffice.

The key to all mastery is repetition, repetition, repetition. (It’s also possible that the struggle is an important part of the process.) So don't be misled by beginner's luck. If you can play it for a few bars, that's nice. But to really get it, shoot for 5 minutes daily for at least a week. Then it will truly be yours to keep.

The P-p-p-power of Love

I'd like to dedicate this post to the memory of Jim Blackley, the man who I will always call “teacher”.

One of the best teaching tips I've come across is this: You've got to love your students. Sounds a bit extreme, but it's not, really. One of the key symptoms of the '60s was universal love -- "Make love, not war", "The summer of love". It simply meant that we wanted peace, love and respect for everyone. It was true then, and years later I think the philosophy has not lost any value.

Keep in mind that love is both a noun and a verb, and as a verb, love compels us to action. We give gifts because of love. We help out in emergencies because of love. And of course we raise and nurture our children because of love.

So how does one 'love' a student without coming across as suspect? Just the way you do with anyone you respect and want the best for. You love your friends, you love your band mates (I hope), and so you treat them accordingly. You're not looking for intimacy or a long-term commitment. You just want things to work out for the best for your students. 

 

Some of the most useful things my teacher taught me were not technical. Sure, he showed me stuff and helped me learn it, but he wanted more from and for his students. To get that, he had to communicate and engage beyond the mere technical.

I spent one lesson with a youngster listening to a Katie Perry tune. This fellow was just beginning to be interested in music, and the tune really spoke to him. I like to work with real world examples that mean something to the student, so we listened to the tune and talked about it. I pointed out things the drummer was doing that were things we'd been working on. For his next lesson I prepared some exercises that he could play along to the tune. We spent maybe 6 minutes on the drums that day, but it was one of the best lessons ever because  he got it, and he got it because it meant something to him.

Sometimes the only way for a student to move forward is to talk about non-lesson stuff. Playing music is a very emotional activity, and someone who is distracted may be dealing with some baggage. There are all sorts of reasons why someone may not be making progress, and if I can help them get past this, then I'll do what I can to help (provided I have the knowledge and experience ... and wisdom).

Also remember that sometimes the best gift we can give is to just listen. Add a little compassion and you're off to a great start.

Getting To Know You

The missus sent me a link to her niece’s boyfriend’s website. “An incredible guitarist”, she said. So of course I had to go online and check out both his and his band’s websites. In mere minutes I was able to get an idea of what they were all about. Pretty cool!

This level of convenience is truly astounding. There was a time when the only way to see someone play was to get your butt out to a club or concert. And if that artist had a habit of avoiding your neighbourhood, then you had to make do with the occasional TV appearance or a road trip.

Now we just have to 'Google it' and voilà -- gobs of good stuff that might have taken years to discover in olden times!

I like to stay informed, or I should say I really hate being out of touch or behind the times. So if I hear about an interesting drummer, I often will look them up online. I like to look for a live performance. It’s the best way to get the full story and it's almost always entertaining. And seeing a performance -- even on grainy video -- is educational and inspirational.

While I’m investigating contemporary music, I'm also checking up on the competition. It's good to know what others in your field are up to so you can stay both up-to-date and relevant. So naturally I always investigate what other drum teachers are doing online. It can be a good source of ideas for what to do and what not to do as a teacher.

But there’s dark side to this abundance. We can too easily take things for granted. If I can see it any time, then why hurry? It'll be there tomorrow. True, it likely will be there, but it won't be where it counts: as part of your experience.

Conversely, it's easy to overload ourselves with information. For example, after a day of watching drums solos on YouTube, you'll likely be more confused about soloing than before. Also, don't mistake idly watching videos for actual research.

So don't put it off. Go online and find out what other people are up to ... and then get out and see some live music.

Memo To Phil: Be careful what you wish for

Well, Phil Collins is back in the news lately.  Remember when he was the guy every rock drummer wanted to be? Then he became a front-man, then a break-out star, then a pop icon, then the stalwart of the housewives’ hit parade. Even though Phil and I are nearly the same age, he was my idol. We all followed his progress from promising young prog-rock drummer with the shy manner and even shyer voice, to the most respected and most wanted rock/pop drummer ever. I've just finished Phil's autobiography and I heartily recommend it. 

Phil’s bio seems to be primarily a form of catharsis. Actually, this is one of Phil’s specialties. When it comes to writing, Phil seems to have two modes: cutesy pop tunes and maudlin, introspective, heart-on-the-sleeve chargers. You may hate everything about “Susudio,” but I bet you join in on the chorus. And then there are tunes like “Against All Odds.”

Phil’s was a career path that anyone would envy, at least until you read his autobiography, Not Dead Yet. Yes, Phil paid his dues, and in the process he fell into a few of the traps that abound in this business. The music business can heap obscene rewards on talented workaholics. It’s usually only toward the end of the journey that anyone weighs the actual costs.

OK, enough about Phil’s fall from grace. I want to talk about Phil’s fill. You know the one:  du-Da du-Da du-Da du-Da DA DA. It’s now regarded as the most famous drum fill ever, and when I first heard it, I thought, “That's brilliant!!!” 

Here’s the deal. That fill was already one of the most overworked and tired of drum clichés. It’s a drum lick that I purposely avoid … it’s just too corny. And yet when Phil does it, it works. Why?

Burning up on Entry
First of all, the fill is totally in your face. The tune thus far had been so low key that the listener has settled into a quiet reverie. And then BLA-A-A-A-A ... a major wake-up call, by which Phil means “I’m changing the game”. That works on a number of levels.

Familiar Face
One bit of advice writers offer other writers is to avoid clichés. Good advice, but I happen to like clichés or, rather, familiar expressions. I call them comfort phrases. They work because the reader recognizes them, is comfortable with them, and can relate to them. (There’s a limit, of course; a horrible cliché is a horrible cliché.) So when Phil chose to use a familiar drum break, he was actually trying to make us more comfortable and to help us relate, and then he added his own spin.

Authority
This is the genius part. If you’re going to play a cliché, play it with face-melting conviction.

Not Dead Yet - The Memoir, Phil Collins
Hardcover: 384 pages
ISBN-10: 1101907479
ISBN-13: 978-1-101-90747-4 ISBN

The Rudiments Are Very Important ...

“... and some day I hope to study them."

I've actually heard a number of excellent drummers say this. While I think most drummers would concur that rudiments can be important, I also think that, while they do hope to study them, they admit it’s at the bottom of their bucket list.

So I have to ask, if rudiments are so flaming important, how come nobody is working on them? Well that's not quite true. I've seen a lot of articles and online videos that use rudiments as a basis for rhythmic development. But basing something on a rudiment is a long way from studying “The Rudiments.”

Simply put, the traditional 40 rudiments are not very relevant in today’s music environment. You heard me... not relevant. I'm not saying useless or without value. There are some real gems among the rudiments, and some people have come up with some inspired interpretations. But as core study material, the rudiments have little to offer today's drum set player.

The rudiments were developed to manage the movements of an army. Each rudiment sound was a signal that conveyed a specific meaning: go forward, turn left, duck. The sounds are also pretty good accompaniment for marching tunes, but they are military all the way. Some of the patterns have been around for a thousand years or more. Most of them are a few hundred years old at least. The drum set itself, barely a hundred years old, came along well after the rudiments were laid down.

I know you've learned some rudiments and that you use them all the time. That's good. You find good ideas wherever you can. But isn't it about time we stopped looking at the rudiments as some sort of holy grail or revealed truth? And maybe while we're at it, we should stop feeling guilty about not finding them useful … or even interesting.

So the old saying applies: “Take what you like and leave the rest.” And don’t worry if you never get around to the rudiments. You have lots of company.

Want to find out more about rudiments? Check out these organizations:

Percussive Arts Society - http://www.pas.org/
National Association of Rudimental Drummers - http://nard.us.com/

Keeping Up With The Jetsons

I was at a panel discussion for drum teachers when the question of electronic drums came up. The drummer-educators on the panel seemed to agree that electric wouldn't do unless there was no other way. These were seasoned pros and perhaps a bit old school, but the message was clear. 

The main issues seem to be nuance and ‘feel’. True, electronic drums aren't as sensitive to touch as acoustic drums, they can lack a convincing rebound, and they can have a compressed dynamic range, but with developments in sensors, software and ‘head’ material, the gap appears to be closing.

Then, aside from the sensitivity thing, what's so wrong with electronic drums?

Require power: Without some sort of power source, you have a fairly elaborate set of practice pads. So batteries and headphones at a minimum, and more if you want to play live.

Too small: The pads typically are smaller -- e.g. 10" snare pad, 12" cymbal pad -- and just plain harder to hit.

Too limited: Finite sounds, instruments and settings; finite control over settings; and the racks can be hard to adjust.

Don't look impressive: In the days of techno bands, fine, but I can't see a metal drummer sitting behind a set.

Good ones are expensive: And so they should be, comparable to quality acoustic setups.

Not-so-good ones proliferate: Below a certain price point (e.g. under $500, with a few exceptions), you're looking at toys, not musical gear. Avoid.

Well, what's right then?

Dozens, even hundreds of sounds at the touch of a button: Pretty hard to top this.

Try different tunings, styles with less fuss, risk: It's a great way to experiment with new sounds to see if they work for you without messing with your acoustic instruments.

Change voices mid-song: Imagine having two or three or more sets available at the same time (depending on the nature of the controls).

Compact, easy to move (mostly): Even take them on the road for practice.

Play at 4:00 AM at full volume: With headphones, of course.

Better response than a practice pad: Head-feel can be very good; some are nearly as physically and sonically responsive as real drums.

Dynamics are getting pretty good: Modern triggers now incorporate a number of sensors and better sound processors, giving a big boost to dynamics.

Rock out in your own little world: I don't usually play heavy rock, but when I do I like to switch my e-kit to 'Bonham mode'.

So if you've been toying with the idea of an electronic set, I really can see no reason not to make like George and jump right in!

Thinking of Buying Online?

Online shopping is big business. Like the catalogue stores of yore, all manner of goods are available in virtual shops. You can browse the photos and make your selection in minutes, and your purchase will arrive at your door in a matter of days -- except when it doesn't.

Most of the time, online shopping is painless, reliable and secure, and for hard to find items, may be the only option. Online stores earn their reputations by reliably filling their commitments in a timely manner. I've also found that customer service can be first rate, and the people really know their way around the products.

So, is on-line purchasing all good news or will you be giving up some important perks and conveniences? Let’s see.

Shipping
A few on-line stores offer free shipping or may include it above a certain dollar amount. Otherwise it's a function of order size, weight and shipping distance. It can get expensive and it’s not refundable.

Warrantee/Returns
The product warrantee should be the same, but how do you act on it? You'll likely have to ship items back. And who will pay for shipping? Both ways? The process should be as pain free as possible.

Bait and switch
It looked so good on the web page. And what a great write-up! But when it gets to your door, what the ???? It’s rare, fortunately, but it happens. Many of the larger want ad sites offer vendor ratings. Some credit card companies provide protection for online purchases.

International Orders
A real shocker here in Canada, and a constant source of frustration, are excise tax and customs duty on international shipments. If a broker is involved, expect the tax bill to be anywhere from 20% to 80% of the order's value! This can be a deal breaker, so find out ahead of time.

Direct Sales
Some companies are opting to sell directly to the consumer, bypassing the normal sales and distribution channels. This can be good for the consumer since two levels of price mark-up have been avoided. And remember, there are still the issues of shipping and returns.

Try before you buy? A good way to burn up good will at your local music store is to try out stuff there … and then buy it on-line. But people do it all the time (and then wonder why music stores are struggling to survive). Better to stick with commodity items that are familiar or fairly generic if trying is an important part of the process.