It Just Needed an Adjustment

I was surprised and intrigued one night to see one of our regular Monday night jammers pull out a tool kit and go to work on the house bass. In just a few minutes, the fellow had the bass playing and sounding much better, to everyone's delight. 

 

Adjusting the action of a guitar is not hard to do, as our jam-band friend demonstrated. And the return on investment can be huge. I put myself through university doing, among other things, guitars repairs. I've always been a tinkerer and I'm fascinated by guitars. Plus I love tearing things apart to see how they work.

If you were to go to a drum forum and ask about snare drum tweaking, you'll get lots of useful tips to try. But I can't think of a better way to get to know your gear than to tear it down and put it back together yourself. Take it apart piece by piece. Ask yourself what each component is all about. Think about what you want/need from it and how each component can help you achieve that. 

There are some things you may not want to know so intimately. Hi-hat stand innards, for example, can be quite tricky. You almost need a degree from MIT to figure out some cymbal tilters. But snares, toms, bass drums, BD pedals ... all will benefit from your efforts to understand them. 

Knowing how a thing works goes a long way toward getting it to do your bidding. You'll avoid a lot of blind alleys and will be better able to replicate a result. Then you can spend your time playing rather than trying to get @#$% thing to behave. Once a drum has been set up well, getting and keeping the right sound is relatively simple. And the best way to learn how to get that set-up is to know your instrument -- inside as well as out.

Knowing your equipment can also help avoid repairs. If something's amiss, you can look into it yourself and take remedial steps. Plus avoiding an equipment failure on the road is a great stress reducer and money saver. In the end, your setup will be more satisfying to use. It will sound good, it will play well, and it will be less likely let you down, all of which make for a better, more efficient and satisfying relationship with your instruments and hardware.

What Weaker Side???

“Improve Your Weaker Side”
“Master Your Weaker Side”
“Dominate Your Weaker Side”

Hmmm ... there seems to be some sort of problem with this thing called the weaker side. While I agree with the general concept that our non-dominant side is often less adept than our natural side, there are other factors to consider in this issue outside of equality.

Unequal Time
Humans rarely use both hands to the same degree.  Drummers are obsessed with hand balance, yet we resort to dominant-handedness most of the time. So the other hand just hasn't had the same amount of practice, and so its development usually lags.

Equal Time
An exercise I did years ago had an interesting effect. I did everything with my left hand for a few weeks: getting dressed, shaving, eating, brushing my teeth ... anything that could be off-loaded. I don't know if this helped my playing, but it gave me an entirely new relationship with my non-dominant hand.

Form Follows Function
What does the 'other' hand (or foot) actually need to do? A drummer who plays mostly a back beat doesn't even need a hand to do it -- witness The Barbarian's 'Molty' or Rick Allen of Def Leppard. Typically the 'other' hand is doing the job we need it to do. It's only when we asked it to keep up with our 'good' hand that we struggle.

Genetics
We're all built and wired differently. Within our own bodies, things are wired differently from side to side. For example, some people take quite naturally to open-handed playing  and some will never be able to do it because brain, nerves, muscles, etc. simply weren't laid down with that in mind. I resorted to traditional grip because matched grip in my 'weaker' hand persistently felt unnatural no matter what I did. So you do what you can.

It's good to work on developing our non-dominant limbs, but I think we need to give the so-called weaker side a break. For the most part it's doing a pretty decent job of what we need it to do. And if we want more, it's really comes down to focus and training.

I'm of Two Minds on This

Or maybe three. But definitely not one. It's an exercise I find myself doing a lot as I work on things that challenge me: trying to get my mind -- not just my limbs -- to focus on two things at once.

 An exercise that Thomas Lang recommends is to vary the volume of your limbs one at a time. This gives you better control over dynamics. But more importantly, it forces you to focus your attention on one part, then another part, then another part. It's physically challenging, but mentally it can be even more taxing. As you move your focus from limb to limb, you are also compartmentalizing the other limbs. And that's what I mean by two minds: one 'mind' is concentrating on the bass drum pattern while the second keeps the cymbal, snare and hi-hat moving along.

I often find that, when I'm having trouble with a pattern, it's often because I'm not thinking about it the right way. For example, the bass drum may suffer if I’m thinking mostly about the snare part. Sometimes I'll think I have a pattern and then discover that I only have the mechanics, and that it falls apart if I'm momentarily distracted. I need to focus more consciously to over-come this obstacle.

So my objective is to control all the parts mentally as well as physically. For example, I'm trying to play different bass drum patterns while working through some lines in Stick Control. Some come quite easily and others take a bit more work. But some of them stubbornly refuse to fall into place. Even when I can execute them, I sometimes find that I'm thinking pattern rather than rhythm. That tells me that I don't own it -- I can merely execute it.

Here’s a test case. While playing this line, try to see your limbs as different teams: Feet vs. hands, left hand plus bass drum, right side vs. left side, feet only, etc. The goal is to hear the separate parts as separate 'players'.

As always, no real answers for you. I highly recommend that you work on moving your attention around the set using the Thomas Lang exercise. Focus on up and down, and left and right, concentrate on what your hands are doing while ignoring your feet, etc. Also pay attention to both the pattern and the rhythm. And if you can't tell the difference, you've arrived.

Settling The Jazz Vs. Classical Debate

 I just finished reading a book called “Not Quite the Classics” by Colin Mochrie, a comedian with a wonderfully warped sense of humour. (You may know Colin from the TV show “Whose Line Is It Anyway” and elsewhere.) In the book’s preface, Mochrie goes on about his choice to do improvisational comedy -- partly as a disclaimer for being unfamiliar with the writing of actual stories and also to emphasize that he simply prefers improvisation to other types of comedy.

Saturday Night Live is TV’s longest running sketch comedy show. Many of the artists that have passed through SNL have been improvisational comics, but at SNL the writers write the story and the players deliver it. There’s not a lot of room for improvisation.

So, improv or prepared ... is one style of comedy better than the other? Of course not. Both have their standards and traditions. And both have legions of fans. And so it is with music. There are those who specialize in improvisation and those who specialize in delivering a standard piece. Jazz in particular emphasizes improvisation to the point that some jazz artists only improvise, eschewing prepared music altogether.

In the opposite corner is classical music, where all of the notes are written down and woe be to anyone who deviates from the written page during a performance. The assumption here is that the composition is the star of the show and the performers are there to support it. Some even consider improvisation to be heresy*. In contrast, the jazz player is the star and the music, written down or not, simply provides a framework and opportunity for creativity.

Most popular music falls somewhere in between: some preparation plus some room for creativity. Whatever the case, the path to success requires a lot of work, practice and study. The best part is you get to choose which aspects you work at.

Not Quite the Classics, by Colin Mochrie
Viking Canada (2013)
ISBN-10: 1626814554
ISBN-13: 978-1626814554

* It’s easy to forget that all music begins life as improvisation.

All In A Day's Work

When I was a just starting out, I lived in the big city where I could see great players every night of the week. I idolized nearly every local player of that time. They were all excellent, but one in particular stood out, and he became a bit of a mentor to me. He was an established world-class musician when he arrived in town, and he was able to quickly fill his schedule with studio work. I could see him play most nights at one of the jazz clubs (which were more plentiful back then). He and many others would then dig into some jazz after a day filled with jingles and TV themes.

There were also after-hours clubs, some of which opened the stage to all comers. So guess who shows up at one of those after-hours clubs. I'd seen him play just a few hours earlier at my favourite jazz club, and here he was again, playing, after a day of recording and a 4-hour jazz gig (good thing he was still young).

I began having lessons in a private rehearsal studio. It was pretty funky: a set of drums, a couple of cymbals, a few music stands, and 5 layers of carpet on the floor. It turned out that this studio was maintained by my then hero and friends. They would get together and play whenever possible. Why? To keep in shape, to work on new stuff, and to play 'their' music.

OK, full day of studio work, jazz club gig in the evening, sit-in at the after-hours club ... and it's still not enough! Well, some of us really are that obsessed with playing, but 8 or 10 or 12 hours a day? Sure, because sometimes it's the only way to get in the game and to stay in the game.

Even though my hero was highly skilled and well connected, he knew he had to get out there and play if he wanted to keep his edge, both technically and career-wise. Plus he just plain loved to play. Commercial studio gigs can be great work, but your other skills -- your jazz chops, your double pedal speed -- may suffer. So the jazz gigs and casual sessions make it possible to stay in shape.

You get better at what you do, and if you hope to be a player, then you've got to play and play and play ... and then play some more.

Release Your Inner___________________ (insert drummer of choice)

I was listening to a Daniel Glass podcast and I was able to relate to a lot of what he had to say. The gist of his message was that a drummer should at times be part actor. By that he means that when playing, for example, a cover tune, the drummer may have some responsibility to play it 'just like the record'. (I can't imagine playing a Jackson Browne tune and not trying to channel Russ Kunkle at least a little bit!) Daniel goes on to make an argument for reframing the situation as an opportunity.

I have my own interpretation of this. You see, I don't really want to play like the drummer on the record. That's not why I play. I play to add my spin to the music, and I can't do that if I'm copying someone else. Copying is a very important part of the learning process, but to copy someone else's style as a matter of course to me seems contrary to the whole business of making music. I rarely play exactly what was on the recording. I prefer to emulate the 'spirit' of the original artist and use that as inspiration for my own interpretation.

In a cover band, it's not really necessarily to ape the original drummer. Still, the audience is expecting to hear their favourite tunes they way they've come to know them, so things ought to sound more-or-less correct in the drum department. When playing a well-recognized tune -- especially one with 'signature' drum parts -- then I think we have an obligation to pay homage to the original.

In a tribute-style band, the goal is to replicate the experience of the original band. That means the tunes, the outfits, the stage presentation ... everything … should be true to that experience. And so the drum parts need to be virtually identical to the original. But even then, there can be room for your personal touch.

What Daniel suggests, and I fully endorse, is that you step inside the other artist's skin for a few minutes. He even goes as far as to suggest you imagine yourself as that drummer to help you emulate their style and energy. The goal is not to replicate the drummer, but to approach the tune the way you think they might. And when a chance for a cool groove or fill comes up, you can ask yourself, "What would Daniel Glass do?"

http://danielglass.com/
https://www.drummersresource.com/why-drummers-need-to-be-actors/ 

Hi-hat Quick Start Guide

“Congratulations on your new hi-hat stand -- you are about to enter of world of endless sonic variety. And with a modicum of care, your hi-hat stand will give you years of reliable service and enjoyment.”

That's a sentiment that could accompany every hi-hat sold. Yes, the hi-hat is truly a marvellous invention. Originally a means of imitating orchestral crash or clash cymbals, in the hands of early jazz drummers the device quickly revealed its musical versatility. Today's hi-hat stands are marvels of ingenuity, but did you know that most of what you see on a modern stand has been around almost from day one!

Let's begin with the stand itself. Usually 3-legged, they often have some sort of ‘spur’ in the base to help prevent creep. When setting up, make sure the main post and all feet are firmly on the floor for stability and to engage the spur(s).

At the top of the stand is a cup lined with a metal washer and a felt or rubber cushion to hold the bottom cymbal. There's also a cymbal tilter. This is to help avoid air lock. That's when the cymbals go "fttt" or even stick together. You can also use the bottom cymbal tilter to refine your sound. Note that the heavier hi-hat cymbal usually goes on the bottom.

The cymbal clutch is pretty simple: a wing screw to hold it on the hi-hat's central rod, knurled nuts to adjust the cymbal tension, soft washers to prevent rattle, and another nut to hold it all together. Try keeping the top cymbal slightly loose. Too tight and the cymbal will not respond well; too loose and it will sound ‘splooshy’ and may rattle.

Some hi-hat stands have adjustable tension springs. This is very handy for tailoring the feel of the pedal to your taste and to your cymbals. Heavier cymbals will require more spring tension than thinner, lighter cymbals. A more physical player may want to feel more resistance from the pedal.

Set your hi-hat cymbals about 3-6 inches (8-15 cm) above the snare with a gap of about one inch between the cymbals. This should give you plenty of travel for stomping and also for nuanced playing. Then fine-tune the height, the gap, the spring tension, the angle of the bottom cymbal, and the tension on the top cymbal until you find what’s right for you.

As for maintenance, be proactive. Keep an eye on the various parts and fix or replace early rather than too late. Otherwise your hi-hat stand needs virtually no maintenance. So I guess your main task now would be to discover its many sonic capabilities.

For a bit of fun and inspiration, here are a few links to check out:
     Buddy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hOAi-g-9L-c
     Dave Black: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QThXDgFAdb8
     Max (not Obama): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H8syiOwwVyY

No Bad Drum Heads

There are today a lot of companies making drum heads, ranging from the global standards -- Remo, Evans, etc. -- to boutique makers such as Earthtone and Kentville. And of course, every maker offers a variety of styles, sometimes to the point of our total bewilderment.

The good news is that there is very little chance of getting a bad drum head. Most of today's heads are manufactured to close tolerances using precision tools and machinery. So a head from a reputable company will do the job it was designed to do.

OK, quality and consistency? Check! Then things get a little weird.

That's My Brand
We look to brand names as a sort of guarantee. If I've settled on head X from company B, then when it's time to replace, a newly purchased head X will be virtually identical to the one I'm replacing. That applies across all brands and all styles, and that's why we tend to 'join' a particular brand. That said, brand loyalty shouldn't be an end in itself. I have a favourite drum head maker and a favourite model, but I use all sorts of different heads. Plus I know I can start with or go back to my standard any time and know that I will get the result I'm partial to.

All for Nought?
Say all you want about shell composition, bearing edge topology and whatnot, it's up to the drum head to translate all that technology into a sound that represents you. Good drums will be delivered with quality heads that the drum company thinks will do a good all-around job. It's a good starting point, and you may not have to look any further. But often this isn't the case. Why? 'Cuz we're all different.

More Trial and Less Error
Let's say I buy a new set but they came with heads I can't stand. No choice but to replace them with my regulars. Now, if those heads don't work either, what then? Toss 'em onto the spares pile and try something else. I'll find the right head for those drums eventually, but it might take a bit of testing, and perhaps a few purchases.

Make the Investment
If my usual heads don't work, then I'll concentrate on one drum, say the small tom. Those heads are typically under $20 these days. So for about $100, I can try four or five different heads. Once I've got the sound I'm looking for, I may then commit to a full set. Ponying up $100 or more for drum heads that I may end up tossing aside seems like an expensive way to achieve my goal. But if the kit cost two or three thousand dollars, it's a pretty cheap solution. Even if I strike out 3 or 4 or more times, I still think springing for those heads will more than pay for itself in the long run.

Lost In The Shuffle(s)

There are many different types of shuffle rhythms available, and each one was 'purpose built' for a particular style of music. Note that your basic shuffle is often written as dotted 8th & 16th notes, but it's rarely played that way. Strict adherence to 1(e&)a 2(e&)a 3(e&)a 4(e&)a tends to sound mechanical or choppy, and just not swinging. Counting 1~uh 2~uh 3~uh 4~uh leaves you free to interpret and fine tune the feel of a shuffle.

The secret to a shuffle that grooves is to micro-manage the skip beats, the 'uh'. Different moods and energy levels can be created by moving the skip beat closer to or further from the beat. In fact, the skip beat can vary all the way from practically 8th notes to 32nd notes plus everything in between. That said, the most effective shuffle patterns tend to be based on triplets.

Here we have a baker’s dozen of better-known shuffle rhythms (in alphabetical order).

2-beat - This may not seem like a shuffle as at fast tempos the ride tends to be quarter notes, so the rhythm is an 'implied shuffle'. It's sometimes easier to interpret a 2-beat as 2/2 time. E.g. “Roll Out the Barrel”.

Chicago Shuffle - Here the shuffle rhythm is maintained on the snare, accompanied by steady quarter notes on hi-ht or cymbal.

Country Shuffle - A generally triplet-based rhythm with a relaxed, almost loping quality somewhat similar to a Jazz Shuffle. Think "Happy Trails".

Double Shuffle - This shuffle is played with both hands, one on the snare and the other on hi-hat or cymbal, and it's quite energetic. Check out "How Sweet It Is To Be loved By You".

Flat Tire Shuffle - Here the down beats are played on the bass drum and the snare answers with up beats. Have a listen to "My Baby Just Cares For Me".

Half-time Shuffle - Sometimes called the Purdie shuffle or Bonham shuffle ("Fool In The Rain"), the rhythm is simpler than it sounds. The lead hand plays a double-time shuffle on the hi-hit while the snare and bass drum play a basic 8th note rock rhythm mingled with triplets.

Jazz Shuffle - A straight forward shuffle that's almost always triplet based even at faster tempos. It's also a great fit for a Country Shuffle.

Lame Duck - This calls for a samba-type rhythm on the bass drum while the snare plays a simple back beat.

Scissors Shuffle - Here the skip beat is handed over to the hi-hat foot, with quarters on the bass drum.

Slo-mo Shuffle - This is useful when the tempo is very slow and you want to suggest double time without actually going there.

Stick-shift Shuffle - This one is played more like a dotted-8th-&-16th to produce a driving, machine-like quality that suits funk and certain blues styles. "Chicken Shack" is a good example.

Texas Shuffle - The bass drum plays 1 & 3 and the snare completes the full shuffle pattern. The cymbal plays a shuffle or just quarter notes.

Train Beat Shuffle - Not really a shuffle, but it often has a shuffle inner feel. The basic pattern is based on 8th notes in cut time, with accents on 2 and 4. Can sound remarkably like a steam locomotive, as heard in "Orange Blossom Special". Sometimes the accents are placed on 1 and 3.

Want a PDF copy of the rhythms? Send me an email.

All Diets Work

It’s true. According to recent scientific studies, all diets lead to weight loss. However, some diets are good for you, some are not so good, and some can actually hurt you. Some are straight-forward, while others are too hard to understand or difficult to follow. No matter … they all work. And here’s why: When we diet, we pay close attention to what we eat and how much we eat. When not dieting, we’re not as observant. So if we want to lose weight, attending to what we eat and how it might affect our lives is a good idea.

The same might can be said of drum exercises. They all work because they all get your hands (and feet) moving. But, like diets, not all exercises are equal. Some will transport your playing to the next level, while others won’t have much impact on your actual playing, and some may send you off in the wrong direction. A few can even cause damage. (Fortunately, damaging routines are pretty rare.)

If you've found that your practice schedule has become bloated or seems unproductive, here’s a simple litmus test to eliminate the ‘bad foods’ from your drum diet.

1. Is it useful?
Can I relate the material to the music that I play? If I can’t think of a tune or a place in a tune where the material would be a good fit, then I'll likely take it off my schedule.

2. Is it achievable and in a reasonable length of time?
I like to do a return on investment analysis on exercises. What am I going to get back from this and how long will that take? If the ROI doesn't make sense, then I’ll move on to something else.

3. Is it “me”?It’s important that what we work on helps us to express ourselves and our personal musical sense. While it might be useful and achievable, does it fit with what I want to do on the drums?  As with a diet, if it doesn’t suit me, there’s not much point in spending time on it. 

There is so much material around these days that there's no excuse for working on stuff that won’t get you to where you want to go. The challenge, then, is to separate the wheat from the chaff to make your practice schedule both lean and nutritious.

Inspiration From The Stars

I picked up a copy of the Sabian publication “Create: 2017 Cymbals & Sounds”. It’s a 40-page full colour magazine provided free by Sabian and distributed through music equipment outlets. It’s really just a catalogue of their various products, but it delivers quite a bit more. The book is filled with information about cymbals: how they’re made, how they’re used, how designs came about, what different features mean. There’s lots of cymbal lore and history too. If someone wanted to quickly learn about cymbals, this edition would be a great place to start. And it’s free! 

 When I was still saving up for my first cymbals, I cherished similar books from Zildjian called “Cymbal Setups of Famous Drummers”. While these publications may be thinly disguised sales tools, they give us is an intimate look into the personal sound choices of the premier drummers of the day. I found it helpful to know what cymbals my favourite players were using to make the sounds I heard on recordings. It helped me to develop a short list of cymbals to investigate. (My current cymbal set-up is very much like the set Joe Morello used on "Take 5", which I find quite interesting.)

But there’s an even bigger dividend that these books can deliver: enthusiasm. I find it hard to not be pumped when leafing through the Sabian book, just as I did with the Zildjian books years ago. I read about the history of the company, the different methods used and how methods have changed over the centuries. I learned about the different sound options that new designs give us, often with commentary from the artist who helped create the cymbal or series.

What I value most about these books is that they make cymbals and cymbal history interesting, and that can lead to enthusiasm. The stories invite us to join the cymbal community and to cherish the rich culture of cymbals -- and that's an exciting prospect. 

My hope for young and new drummers is that they find a vehicle that can help them get excited about cymbals and cymbal lore. And for those of us who are teachers and mentors, perhaps we can help foster and sustain this enthusiasm. 

You can download a PDF copy of the 2017 edition from Sabian: https://www.sabian.com/pdf/SABIAN-BandOrchestraCatalog17.pdf

Today I'm going to teach you ...

I see a lot of instructional videos these days that take the approach that if I demonstrate something and throw in a little (or a lot of) explanation and serve it up online, then I’m teaching. Well, I’ve been a teacher for too long to think that a one-time demonstration on a computer screen will get the job done, no matter how good the demonstration and explanation might be.

Over the millennia, teaching has evolved to accommodate numbers, sometimes to the detriment of the individual. My first-year sociology class is a perfect example: 700+ students in one room. It's impossible to 'teach' a class of 700 people! Yes, you can get the material out there, and most will pick up enough of it to pass an exam. But is this teaching? Taken to the next level, it’s a lot easier, and a lot cheaper, to reach students over the internet.

Great artists study with great teachers, and not in a class room or by video. Always have; always will. It’s one-on-one ...  no exceptions. Teaching is -- or should be -- coaching. I show you, you try it. I explain the philosophy and purpose behind what I’m showing you. I present the material that needs to be mastered and in an order that’s right for you. I reframe it if my explanation didn’t work for you, and reframe it again and again until you get it. I monitor your progress. And I’ll only introduce new material when the student is ready. Too often new material is given as a matter of course, or as a reward for simply showing up,

I've spent a lot of money on lessons and musical education for myself. I've also spent a lot of time figuring things out on my own. And I've been in classrooms and I've sat thru DVD and on-line lessons. What I remember most is the time I spent with a skilled teacher. And while the lessons may have seemed expensive at the time, they paid for themselves over and over because the lessons kicked off an entire chain of insights and accomplishments. I cannot say the same about DVDs and online videos.

I'm not saying that formal lessons are the only way to go, but in my experience, one-on-mentoring and coaching will bring far greater long-term rewards than any other method. It's a gift that keeps on giving.

The Case For Complexity

Bass player 'A' had ended the last song of the set with an exceptionally busy send off. Bass player 'B', who was of a different mind-set, later asked, "Why play something complicated when you can play something simple?" Bass player A replied, "Why play something simple when you can play something complicated?"

Naturally, bass player B was somewhat taken aback and didn't have a response for this. And neither do I. I'd love to be able to lay out a solid, convincing, unassailable argument for keeping it simple.

Simplicity Can be Beautiful
Some of the most moving drum parts I've heard were dirt simple. It might have worked with a more ambitious interpretations, but the simpler one just seemed magical. True, playing simply can be challenging enough, but there are good reasons for not keeping it simple.

Meg White vs. Matt Gartska vs. Max Roach
Different music styles require different levels of busy and different levels of complexity. A thrash metal drummer who isn't busy just won't do, and no one wants the drums front and centre throughout a ballad. Becoming familiar with the milieu will let you know what the standard practices are.

How Dense Can You Be?
I like the notion of musical density. Some music is sonically quite full; other bits are more on the light side. This concept can give some idea of what sort of playing might be appropriate. If I'm playing busy music with busy musicians, then I can stretch out a bit. And if the music is spare, then I may choose to fill it out or I might prefer to imitate wallpaper.

Part Of The Milieu
This goes along with density. Some genres are more dense and thus require more input from all players. Think progressive jazz, prog-rock, fusion, death metal. Power trios benefit from a busy drummer who can help fill things out.

Personal Milestones
The overall busy-ness of your playing changes over time. Most of us go through a honeymoon period, when more is always better. Also, as you grow musically,  you can handle more complex situations. So while we may overplay in the beginning, most of us adapt to the music before too long. We may then go on to learn to deal with more and more complex music.

It's part of the fun
First of all, raw energy is compelling. Pushing the music hard can get the entire room jumping, and complexity can deliver a lot of energy. Complexity is also inherently rewarding. There's the challenge of doing something complicated, and also the resulting buzz.

Some of my Favourite Drummers are Invisible

I was sitting in a club listening to one of my drum heroes when I asked myself what it was that I found so appealing about his playing. I listened carefully as he played through the head, backed each soloist, took a solo, and wrapped things up. His playing rose and fell beautifully with the music, but for the most part, he seemed to be barely there: supportive but unobtrusive ... almost invisible.

Some of the very best drummers are virtually unheard of.  When it comes to the needs of music, visibility -- or, rather, audibility -- is often not high on the list. There are high profile drummers we admire who have the ability to disappear as well as get noticed. Vinnie Calaiuta is a great example. When it calls for flash, you couldn't want for more. But look at Vinnie's recording credits and you'll find loads of examples where he takes musical invisibility to heart.

A lot of drummers qualify as invisible: Hal Blaine, Earl Palmer,  Clem Catini. Even the more flamboyant drummers -- Buddy Rich, Keith Moon, Mike Portnoy -- fade into the background when it suits the music. They all played out front when necessary but were just as happy sitting back and grooving their butts off. What it comes down to is that these players could be anybody during the body of a tune, but when their creative skills were needed,  well there’s no mistaking a Hal Blaine fill.

Being invisible doesn't mean not contributing or not being creative or not being sensitive to the music. Quite the opposite. Being a musical drummer means that you can sense what the music needs and then deliver just the right thing -- no more, no less. You are part of the recipe, the way that leavening is a part of the cake. So when the drums belong in the background, that's where they should go.

I love the supportive aspect of this approach. These drummers sit in the mix in such a way that the music is fully supported and carried along by the drum beat, it's just that it's not obvious and sometimes you have to listen for it. 

Next time you're listening to a well-produced track, note whether the drummer is sitting quietly at the back or way out front. Which do you prefer? Which is better for the tune?

Diversify and Conquer Part II

There are lots of gigs within the music industry that do not necessarily involve playing drums. Here are just a few examples.

Second Instrument
Good drummers who are also good singers will always be in demand. So how about a drummer who can double on another instrument: keyboard, sax, wobbleboard -- lots of possibilities. If you're good enough on another instrument, maybe you can get some work with that. I once had a student who got more gigs on trombone than on drums.

Music Store Polymath
During my university years, I worked at a pro music store where I matched drummers (and others) with equipment and provided technical solutions. I also did repairs and so I got to work on a lot of great instruments and a lot of great people. And it turned out to be a good source of students and gigs.

In the Supply Chain Perhaps you'd excel as a wholesale or manufacturer’s rep. Drum companies and their agents need people to demonstrate and educate as well as to look after their customers. There's also a constant need for organizers, promoters and communicators.

Benevolent Overlord
Maybe you were destined to manage or promote. The music business needs people to TCB. That includes managers, road managers, personal techs, booking agents, PR & promotion… . There are many possibilities for someone who is organized, energetic  and proactive.

Author, Author
Think making a living as a musician is tough? It can be a cakewalk compared to writing. Still, there are opportunities for good writers who can find a niche and an audience. Many authors write as a means of marketing. An instruction book, for example, is very good marketing tool. Other avenues for authors include magazines, blogs, guest blogging, educational publications, and industry materials (e.g. PR, catalogs). People will always have a need for good writers, editors and communicators.

A Bright Idea

When we speak of tone, we often use terms like warm, round, dark, and the like. Each tone quality has its place, but the one that many drummers seem to forget about is bright. It's one thing for our drums to sound great when we're seated behind them, but what does it sound like out front?

If we look at the physics of sound, we see that high pitches travel better than low pitches. That means that higher sounds -- i.e. bright sounds -- project better than low-pitched or dull sounds. In short, they 'cut'. And yet a lot of the drummers I see tune their drums to pitches that are too low to project well. Yes, it sounds pretty funky from the driver’s seat, but how much of that sound is actually getting out past the singer? 

Low tuning has other shortcomings. It's easy to 'under-tune' a drum. Different sized drums have different usable ranges <see Tessitura>, and a drum can only be tuned so low before it can no longer do its job. You end up with what I call a ‘baggy’ sound -- a little like banging on a stack of paper grocery bags -- or ‘boxy’. The worst case is that the different drums will all sound pretty much the same out front. Tuning too low also forces you to hit harder.

Low sounds can eveninterfere with other instruments, especially the bass. This can result in a muddy bottom end to the music.

If your drums are being closely mic'ed, then you can tune pretty much any way you want. The sound system will take over the job of projecting your mix. But if there is no audio assist, then tuning your drums more toward the middle of their range to increase the high frequency content can improve projection.

High and mid-range tuning tends to work well in most situations. In a small club, you can usually keep up with any assortment of instruments. In a larger room, higher tuning may provide all the cut and volume you need. And in a large concert with full sound system? Just listen to Dave Weckl or David Garibaldi to see how effective higher pitches can be through a PA.

Higher tuning's many benefits:

• Be heard in the audience with less effort
• Avoid clashing with other musicians
• Get the best tone quality from your drums
• Enjoy decent stick response and drums that are less tiring to play
• Reduce dependence on microphones and PA

I've Got You Covered

It was a headline intended to shock: “Thirteen Huge Hits That Are Actually Covers.” Imagine ... more than a dozen major records that made it on the backs of -- shudder -- tunes that the band didn't write themselves, and worse, that someone else had already recorded!

First, let's clear the air. In the early days of recorded music, a cover was defined as a recording of a song that someone else had already recorded. Nothing more. Over the past few decades, the term has expanded to encompass any performance of any tune that isn't an original, and in the process, it has acquired a bit of attitude. Let's see what the options are.

Tunes you wrote and recorded
This is what we're all hoping for. You've got something to say and you want to take it to the world. Go for it! This pretty much depends on having some song-writing talent, BTW.

Tunes you recorded but didn't write
At one time, writing your own material was almost unheard of (although it seems to have worked well enough from the Jurassic era right up until big recording companies appeared). Writers wrote and players played. Fact is, not all of us are song writers, and not all song-writers are performers.

Cover version, original concept
When someone takes another crack at a previously recorded tune, the results will sometimes over-shadow the original: "Blinded By The Light" (Manfred Mann vs. Bruce Springsteen), "All Along The Watchtower" (Jimmi Hendrix vs. Bob Dylan). A different artist can often add a lot of value to an existing tune, often adapting it to a different genre. And when well done it's a thing of beauty.

Cover tunes
The music business relies on recorded tunes that someone else wrote. It's a vast and ever-growing catalogue (check out the Billboard 100 from time to time). Most musicians get their music from recordings. If they didn't, the music business might just grind to a halt. It's value added for artist(s), keeping their music alive, and it's what a lot of audiences are in the mood to hear.

And in conclusion
All musicians play cover tunes … it's where the majority of music comes from.  And all bands are cover bands, at least in the beginning. Artists depend on the tunes and the tunes depend on other artists. But sadly, the term cover seems to have morphed into almost an insult. Nobody is offended when they remake a movie, such as Godzilla (not once but twice!) And no way would anyone protest, “It’s just a cover of the Ishiro Honda movie” or suggest that the film-maker had cheated or copped out.

In the end, a great tune is a great tune, and a great rendition is a great rendition, no matter where the tune came from. If you're in a so-called cover band, you are part of the foundation of the music industry, and you should be proud to be a member of this thriving musical community.

Let's Get Married

No, not really … this is just the term I use for how I like to approach playing: I try to 'marry the bass player'. By this I mean that I try to play the time and feel (and volume) as closely in sync with the bass line as I can. The customary term for this is 'pocket', the reference being that you try to put the beat in the bass player's back pocket.

The way to gauge the pocket is with your lead hand and foot. I'm right handed, so my goal is to place my right hand strokes and my bass drum figures right on top of the bass player's line. Of course you can vary this by playing ever so slightly ahead of or behind the beat for either an energetic or a laid back feel. But smack on top of the bass line is where you usually belong.

Is this always the right way to play? Not necessarily. There will be times when you'll have to handle things a bit differently. Perhaps you're teamed with a bass player who doesn't lay down a solid line. Or maybe someone in the band just doesn't connect. In either case my recommendation is to work with the strongest or the weakest player.

Here's what I mean.

Let's say you have a strong singer, much stronger than the others in the band. If you 'marry' the singer, the two of you will then form a solid team that can create a good foundation, and that can help pull things together.

The other situation is a bit trickier. Say you're backing up someone who is sort of all over the place, and providing solid time just isn't working. The solution is to marry this player. Sorry to say, the person most likely lacks the ability to effectively work with the team. So your best option would be to play as tightly as possible with him or her. Then you become a sympathetic anchor for that player. You also become the guide for the rest of the band, and the liaison between the band and the ‘loose cannon’ in times of distress. If something odd happens -- a bar of three perhaps -- you can catch it and communicate it to the rest of your team with the offender being none-the-wiser.

Now, I happen to have done a fair amount of this sort of compensating for assorted musicians and their varied approaches, and I don't mind admitting that I'm pretty good at it. But I would far rather marry a good bass player. Just sayin'.

Is Moeller Wrong for Today's Drumming?

Everywhere you turn these days, someone is talking about, writing about or demonstrating something they cheerfully call "Moeller". But here's the thing: There appears to be a lot of different techniques being presented as Moeller.  So I decided to see if I could get to the bottom of the apparent confusion, and here's what I found out about our friend "Gus" and his teachings.

Sanford Gustav Moeller's goal in his 1934 publication was to document and explain the techniques used by old-time field drummers. In those days, drummers used the German grip in the right hand, with the butt of the stick held out to the side. Moeller further recommended the 'open' right hand grip (also known as the 4th finger fulcrum). To achieve power on the somewhat loose calf-skin heads of the day, the trick was to hold the stick with the 4th & 3rd fingers, letting the other digits remain loosely wrapped around the stick. Well, there simply is no possibility of using finger control with this technique!

Moeller never specified a whipping motion, although he did acknowledge its usefulness. The motions he described come mainly from the forearms and wrists. The whip only comes into play when extra power is needed. (BTW, Billy Gladstone was the champion of the whip stroke.)

Did early field drummers ever play fast one-handed triplets on their period drums? I doubt it. The combination of German grip and primitive tensioning systems made articulation difficult. Double strokes at 140 bpm? OK, but that's where it'll top out. Moeller merely documented how the drummers could get some speed under these conditions, and he showed how the technique could be applied to the more modern drum and the then-recently-invented drum set.

The bottom line here is that Moeller is not about arm movement or finger control or bounces. Moeller's real message lies in what happens between the strokes. Controlling what happens at the end of each stroke gives us command over the next stroke, and that's vital for developing control and speed.

I must admit that I use Moeller and Moeller derivatives. A lot. I didn't set out to. I just copied what my teacher showed me. I also closely watched the hand work of my favourite drummers. It was actually years later that I learned what this key motion was. Somehow, I doubt Mr. Moeller would be surprised.

The Moeller Book - The art of snare drumming, Sanford G. Moeller.  (Long out of print and very hard to find)
Ludwig Masters: (1956)
ISBN-10: 157134689
ISBN-13: 978-1571346896

It's Just an Outline

I’m a big fan of structured writing, also known as outlining. All of my notes are in the form of an outline, as are my shopping lists and todo lists. But there’s another type of outlining I like to do, and it’s very handy around the drum set.
 
Outlining is the technique of playing a rhythmic pattern with one hand while filling in the 'missing' notes with the other hand. (Actually, any two limbs/voices/instruments will work.) The concept is simple, is easy to learn and has great pay-back.

Pulling it Apart
Let's start with a familiar sticking pattern -- paradiddles. If you play all the strokes on the snare at the same volume, then it's just da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da. But lean into the right hand strokes and you get a rhythm: DA doo DA DA / doo DA doo doo. The DA's give us the outer line and the doo's play the inner line. We can re-voice this by putting the R strokes on a cymbal and the L strokes on the snare. The cymbal is now playing the outer line and the L strokes on the snare then become the inner line.

Swing Thing
We can apply outlining to swing just as easily. All we need to do is fill in the 'missing' triplets with the other hand. Here the lead hand plays 1 2-uh 3 4-uh or R R-r R R-r. With outlining, it becomes Rll RlR Rll RlR. The swing ride plays the musical line and the inner line makes it sound a bit like Elvin Jones.

Steve to the Rescue
Now let's look at Steve Gadd's Mozambique, which sounds pretty complicated. The cymbal pattern -- the Mozambique proper -- is based on eighth notes. All we need to do to complete the outline is play the other eighth notes on the snare.

Outlining can be very exciting, and the result sounds much more difficult than it is. It can be applied to just about any sticking to reveal new flavours. Move it around the set and it gets really interesting. You can also try emphasizing the inner line for some unique effects.