Let Me Give You A Hand With That

Let’s try a simple experiment. Take a stick in your lead hand and tap single strokes as fast as you can. Then do the same with the other hand . My guess is that your lead hand is somewhat faster. No surprise there. Now play alternating single strokes as fast as you can. You’ll likely find that you can play alternate strokes faster than either hand on its own. It’s a phenomenon called Limb Assistance. That’s when one limb is able to perform better when it’s partnered with another limb. So your single stroke roll should always be faster than your one-handed bounces.

It works the other way as well, something called Limb Inhibition. When practicing, I like to get all four voices involved, and that usually means hi-hat on 2 & 4. But I find that the hi-hat sometimes helps and sometimes hurts. So if it’s interfering with what I'm trying to do, I’ll leave it out. Or I might play it on all four beats ... whatever helps me make progress.

There are four basic options with the hi-hat, any one of which could help with an exercise:

• Play on 2 & 4: This is the ultimate goal and it’s a core skill for drummers.

• Play on 1 & 3: This can help nail down the timing of a difficult pattern.

• Play on all 4 beats: In addition to helping with timing, this gives the other limbs support as you're working toward full co-ordination.

• Omit completely: Sometimes it’s just not going to happen until the other limbs are sorted.

The same thing can apply to any pattern or combination. Say I want to add triple strokes on the bass drum to a rock pattern, but find that I’m struggling. I might add some matching cymbal strokes so the hand strokes mirror the bass drum. The addition of the extra cymbal strokes means the two limbs are now working as a team to better articulate the foot strokes. (I’ll also leave the hi-hat out for now.)

A perennial problem for drummers is when the limbs are supposed to strike together but are just a little bit off. This is where the limbs could be helping each other. Use one limb/voice to act as ‘troop leader’ and show the other limbs where to put it. I look for relationships between what the different limbs are doing in relation to each other. Sometimes the limbs hit together and that can help with co-ordination. Other times, one limb might function as a lead-in for the next stroke. For example, in a shuffle, I think of the ‘uh’ as causing or triggering the next beat: uh-1 uh-2 etc. This is especially helpful with complex patterns.

So, when in doubt, leave it out. Or, if it helps, put it in.

Photo credit: 113417054 © creativecommonsstockphotos | Dreamstime.com

 

So What Exactly is Talent?

 There seem to be two dominant opinions when it comes to the importance of talent. One is that talent is the whole show. The other is that talent doesn't really matter. And, like most big topics, it's not that simple. Still, I think most of us would agree that, whatever talent might be, we’d still like to have more of it.

It's relative
First of all, everyone has at least some talent -- many talents, in fact. If not, we'd all be lost. Even the worst drummer on the planet has a little bit of music aptitude.  But it actually requires a melange of qualities and aptitudes that combine to create 'talent'. So a bit of drumming talent, a bit of music talent, plus a bit of this and a bit of that and you've got a pretty good drummer.

I find that a bell curve can be helpful in understanding a multitude of human characteristics. For any given category, the low end of the curve represents the completely talentless. These people are very, very rare. For example, in my lifetime I've only met one person who was truly tone deaf.

At the other end of the scale are the extremely gifted ... geniuses in many cases. These too are quite rare, the “1-percenters’ in the field. And then there's the rest of us. Some are closer to the top of the bell curve, some are closer to the bottom, and most are somewhere in the middle. The good news is that, statistically speaking, fully half of us are above average!

The Core Abilities
Talented people seem to pick things up faster, more easily and earlier. They are fast, efficient and sometimes precocious learners and may show up as prodigies. They also seem to understand things better and make it a part of themselves almost without effort. Very young performers often give the impression that they've been at it for many years.

In order to capitalize on the no-doubt adequate talents we do have, we just need to feed, nurture, and experiment. It seems to me that we can divide the job into three critical processes or abilities:

1. Accumulate
This is what we do when we study, practice, memorize, listen, etc. Our personal degree of talent for learning has a direct effect on rate and capacity of learning.

2. Assimilate
Play it, own it, make it personal ... because it is. And it's not enough to just know it. You have to internalize and integrate new knowledge with what went before, to see how it fits into the whole.

3. Innovate
Here's where we roll out our natural curiosity and our creativity. What can you do with your skills and knowledge beyond simply reproducing what's gone before?

There’s no up side to worrying about how much talent you have or don’t have. That hard truth is that talent is pretty much fixed and there’s no way of increasing it. But honing what talent you have is freely available to everyone.

“I wasn't talented... but I was relentless!” - Neil Peart

A Few More “Talents” To Nurture
Attitude, sociability, drive, energy, determination (not the same as energy), nurturing, mentoring, dedication, attention , brain power & development, memory,  marketing savvy, to name a few.

Photo Credit: Andrey Kiselev | Dreamstime.com; Mieszko Stanislawski | Dreamstime.com

A Brief, Mostly Factual History Of The Bass Drum

The bass drum has a long and colourful history. When not being used to send long distance messages or intimidate an enemy, it's long been used to keep things moving along in time. Dancers can feel its low tones, the troops can hear its pulse from quite a distance, and everyone enjoys the gut-churning boom-boom-boom of a parade. For contemporary music, the bass drum continues to serve the time keeping function, but its role has evolved to include bombs, shots, counter-rhythms, musical statements, and even gun fire.

The orchestral bass drum was taken into the combo format in the mid-to-late 1800s, with early drum-set pioneers often making their own bass drum pedals as an alternative to double drumming*. A major turning point came in 1909, when drummer–entrepreneurs William and Theobald Ludwig introduced a compact, reliable and affordable bass drum pedal. The impact of this game changer can be heard on recordings starting in the 1920s.

Except during Buddy Rich's early vaudeville career**, bass drums have tended toward smaller. The original field bass drums -- perhaps a 16" head and 18" depth to as large as 24" x 24" -- were impractical for combo use, whereas concert bass drums were quite large and rather shallow. A compact, deeper drum seemed to be the right configuration and so the 32" x 10" gave way to the 22" and then 20” diameter, and 12 or 14 inch depth.

The trend toward smaller bass drums was driven as much by portability as sound. Elvin Jones settled on an 18" bass drum because it fit into a cab nicely (so I’ve heard). Many drummers go a step further and use a 16" drum. The smaller drums yield a more tom-like voice, which is perfect for contemporary jazz.

The '70s introduced a more aggressive style of music, and to facilitate the more aggressive drumming and volume needs, companies began introducing 'power toms' and then 'canon toms'. Bass drums also gained depth. The standard depth went from 14" to 16" and beyond. There are even bass drums with 'square' dimensions (e.g.  22 x 22). Over-large drums -- 26" and 28" -- sometimes make a brief appearance

The word on the street today is that the 20" x 14" may be the ideal general purpose drum. It can provide a whack equal to a 22" drum, and can sound much like an 18" drum when tuned up. The 22” drum has become the standard for most situations, and the 18” is no longer reserved for jazz -- Neil Peart used 18” bass drums for a time

Bass drum choices today cover the entire spectrum, from pancake drums to “super-ultra cannon” monsters. But for the most part, that standard off-the-shelf drum should give you everything that you're looking for.

 

* Double Drumming: In the early days of the drum set’s evolution, players would often play the bass drum with sticks for a tom or double bass effect.

** Buddy's manager–father kept getting bigger bass drums as Buddy grew. He wanted the bass drum to look enormous next to the no-longer-little boy prodigy.

Photo Credit: Wikipedia

Just a Small Town Doc

 Just a Small Town Doc

I never met my father-in-law. My future wife and I had been dating only a few months when he died of pancreatic cancer. So the first time I met my in-laws was at his funeral in a small mid-western town. It was the town where he set up his first medical practice. He chose that town because it was small and it didn't have a doctor. He recognized that small ponds have the same needs as the bigger ponds -- and perhaps an even greater need -- and this was where he felt he could do the most good.

The big fish ensconced in a small pond is usually thought to be undesirable. We'd much rather be a big fish in a more impressive pond. I didn’t grow up in a small town, but it was small enough that if you did anything note-worthy, a lot of people would find out about it. So you had a good chance of becoming 'the one to watch', i.e. a big fish. And everything is pretty cool, until you decide you want to take it further.

So you pack your bags, load up the drums and head for the big city -- just as countless other aspiring players have done. And you’re immediately faced with the more established players, the ones who really are the big fish in this bigger pond. It can be a shock to anyone who has come up in a relatively small scene. And here’s another problem: There usually are more fish in big ponds, and the competition for a place in the queue can be fierce. It's you against some of the best in the business. Thankfully there are many reasons to choose the smaller pond, and they have advantages that are not found elsewhere.

First of all, the smaller ponds might really need someone like you. Just as that small town needed a full-time doctor, there may be a real need for a versatile, competent drummer/musician/entrepreneur. It's possible to make a big impact in an under-served region. A small town music store, for example, may be the only hangout available to local players. And if you’re the one behind the counter, you can become an important hub and a mentor to an entire community.

The smaller pond may have fewer playing opportunities, but there are towns and cities nearby that might have opportunities. Or  you could start your own music scene: open a music school, start a rehearsal band, play at local venues for a share of the gate (great marketing), teach online lessons, offer instrument repair, guest teach at local schools. 

A big pond also means a big city, and maybe you’re not interested in the big pond lifestyle. There are lots of small and medium ponds, and they all need people like you and me.

For additional ideas, see: How to Diversify & Conquer

Photo Credit:  117365656 © Iurii Kuzo | Dreamstime.com

Raising The Bar

What does one do when stuck indoors on a rainy day? Channel surf, of course. First stop is Dr. Phil, where he promises to spend the rest of his life helping a young woman with her self esteem issues. Then it's off to Dr. Oz*, who tells me about the latest medical/lifestyle 'miracle'. OK, one more try, a cooking show, where I'm shown intimate close-ups of someone stirring something in a bowl ... yum, I guess.

Then there’s the drum video touting a “revolutionary” technique that would totally change my playing -- and my life, apparently. It turned out to be a lick that I’ve been using for years. Useful, but hardly life changing ...  and after such a great build-up.

It's a peculiar habit we humans have. We enjoy hyperbole: best ever, mind blowing, LMAO, and so on. At one level, it's simple enthusiasm. When we really, really like something, we wax poetic and throw in overly-flattering words, words that may not really apply.

Another possibility is what psychologists call significance hunger: I want to be part of something significant, impressive, important ... and to potentially reap rewards on top of bragging rights.

Today, being good at something is no longer good enough. Even great is sometimes considered a bit lame. The new norm is that you have to be over-the-top just to show up on the internet radar.

Comedian Louie C. K. has a poignant take on superlatives. He points out that if, for example, you describe the french fries you’re eating as “amazing”, how will you then describe something that truly is remarkable? There really is nowhere to go from the awe-inspiring. And so we’ve fallen into a trap where everything is being presented as "great, tremendous, unbelievable”, something that is guaranteed to blow your mind

It's fine to be enthusiastic and to want to communicate that enthusiasm, and to hang out with the cool people. But this seemingly innocuous escalation affects our outlook significantly. If nothing else, it raises expectations, and that raises the stakes. In order to stand out, everyone has to get with the program in order to not disappoint an audience that no longer appreciates nuance. It also markets an unhealthy concept of excess. Enough is no longer enough. Too much may even fall short. And so we search for, and expect, amazing. In the end, we miss out on a lot of quality stuff if we choose to only listen to the loudest voice.

* I wrote this article a few years ago.

Image Credit: © State Library Queensland

How Important are Sticking Patterns?

To a certain extent, stickings are a drummer’s vocabulary, somewhat equivalent to the scales of melodic instruments. Different stickings result in different sounds and different rhythms, just as different notes result in different melodies and harmonies. And just as different melodies can be extracted from one scale, different sounds and rhythms can be produced using a single sticking.

I'm rather fond of paradiddles, a sticking we all know. They’re very useful, and they provide a good example for illustration. Take the triple paradiddle: R L R L R L R R / L R L R L R L L. A simple way to vary this is to accent some of the strokes:

 

Or you could change the voicing by playing one hand on the hi-hat or bell of a cymbal, and the other on the snare to produce a linear pattern:

 

There's a lot more that you can do with a simple paradiddle, and then there are the various permutations. What this gives us is many options for a single sticking pattern.

So, if one sticking pattern is so amazingly useful, why bother to learn more?

Well the key word here is ‘learn’. There are some stickings that we want to commit to memory as solidly as we can. These are the workhorse stickings. They're the sounds and patterns we rely on day to day. Then there are stickings that are meant only as exercises. It would be difficult to master all of the stickings in, for example, Joe Morello's “Master Studies” book. These types of stickings are meant to get your hands moving, to develop control and endurance, and also to help defeat some of the habits we might have developed. The objective is not to commit to memory more stickings, but to free the hands to go beyond mere learned patterns. They are also meant to motivate us to practice and to keep discovering.

In between are the sticking exercises that turn out to be really useful. The “King Kong” rhythm is a good example:  RLRR  LRRL. It's a good sticking exercise, but a few clever wags (e.g. Dave Weckl, Phil Collins, et al.) decided to play the R strokes on the cymbal and add some syncopated bass drum shots.

At the other end of the scale, Kirk Covington, drummer for Tribal Tech and Volto, claims he only has two sticking techniques: single strokes and double strokes, which is quite something given what he can do on the drums. Kirk apparently doesn’t put much stock in learning a lot of sticking patterns but he knows what works for him.

Photo Credit: Lyudmyla Raynard

Living With The Curse

Once upon a time, I installed some crown molding in the master bedroom. I managed to put up three sides with aplomb. The fourth one ended up being 1/4 inch too short ... and it annoys me to this day.

Sometimes, when I've shared this story, I've been accused of being a perfectionist*. I'm afraid I can't agree. When it comes to some things -- woodworking, for example -- it’s either cut to the right length or it’s not. And sometimes 'close enough' may be all that the jobs needs. Perfectionism needn’t enter into the picture.

For me it’s just competence and pride of craft combined with the needs of the final result. I would much rather have had the molding the proper length, but that day I wasn’t prepared to drive to the store, get another piece, pay for it, and then redo the entire thing. It was easy to patch it up. All it needed was a wee bit of filler and a few minutes work -- cheap, easy and perfectly adequate.

True, I will sometimes edit a blog article 10 times, but that's just my compulsiveness. Or maybe refining the text is practical. For a time I specialized in résumés, and my editing cycle was typically 10 rounds or more. That's one place where aiming for ‘perfect’ -- i.e free of errors -- really is the only proper way. And so the effort is justified.

Getting back to my crown molding, cutting a piece a quarter inch too short is an easy mistake to make -- human error, a minor boo-boo -- and very fixable. The person doing the cutting is not seeking perfect, just a final result that is as good as time, skill, energy, and budget will allow. Again, no perfectionism involved. I like to do things right, and I like to do them well. But I also want a decent return on my efforts.

At bottom, seeking perfection for it's own sake is both folly and problematic. First of all, perfection itself is speculation, a concept without basis, an illusion. It’s not attainable because it doesn’t exist. For any give task, there is no perfect model to refer to. Moreover, perfection is so often in the eye of the beholder.

There are complicated reasons behind our desire for perfection. Most of them stem from deep-rooted psychological issues and the influence of society. As a result, we often pursue perfection for reasons that have nothing to do with the task at hand. And it inevitably drains our energy.

If you're one of those people who strives for excellence but have no problem saying ‘There, done’ then you’re well on your way to a happy, productive life. If, on the other hand, you're often rendered inactive because of the curse of perfectionism, maybe it's time to try saying “Done and done” once in a while.

* In etymological terms perfect originally meant thorough or, simply, finished.     

 

Making Things Personal

It was an after hours open-stage club in the heart of the jazz district, and our budding jazz band had arranged to play a set -- our first venture outside the practice room. The resident drums were just awful: oversized mixed-brand; single-headed toms covered with tape and some god-awful wall paper; loud, heavy, clunky cymbals; and a bass pedal cranked so tight it barely moved. And they sounded as bad as they looked! It was a struggle, but we did our set and got a good reception.

While we were playing, a few of the local jazz heavy-weights came in fresh from their gig. They got up next and it was both magical and perturbing. The drummer, one of my heroes at the time, sounded like he was playing on his own set! True, he had far more experience playing on other people's drums, but that doesn't account for him being able to get virtually the same sounds from that rock'n'roll melange that he got from his own tiny 'jazz' kit.

I've heard this same story from other drummers who’d witnessed a truly great drummer on a borrowed set. These artists seem to carry their sound around with them in their hands. It's quite an accomplishment to have a personal sound, but to be able to evoke it at will from an unfamiliar instrument, well that's just plain astounding. Or is it?

I was unable to find any good sounds in that drum set, but obviously useful sounds were there. In the hands of a more skilled player, the drums became not only better sounding, but more versatile as well. This inspired me to look for the sounds available from my own instruments.

When I play on a strange set, I methodically look for 'my sounds' in the drums and cymbals. They’re probably not in there, but if I root around enough, I can usually find something that sounds a bit like me. Every drum and every cymbal can produce a variety of sounds, and diligent exploration can help you get more out of them than you might have expected.

Take the ride cymbal. You can play near the middle of the bow, near the edge, close to the bell, on the bell. Angle the stick downward slightly or lay it flat on the bow for interesting effects. Try lighter and heavier sticks, or different tip shapes. Try modifying your grip: tighten it, loosen it, move control from finger to finger. Try different types of stroke: straight, glancing, dead-sticking.

That's more than a dozen techniques for you to try just on a ride cymbal. And these ideas can be applied around the drum set. So start experimenting and see if you can find your own sounds as well as some new sounds to add to your palate. 

Listener Friendly Solos (1)

Back in the days of Gene Krupa and Papa Jo Jones, drum solos were simple, with jungle rhythms on the toms and a lot of fancy footwork on the snare. As music became more sophisticated, so too did drum solos. Then we hit the whole 'uber art' decades of bop and neo-bop. Intellectuals with chops to burn set the world on fire while raising the technical bar considerably. But, truth be known, Max Roach could not move an audience quite the same way Buddy Rich could. And the reason was simple: Max created his solos in a more intellectual, perhaps less user-friendly style. Buddy always played to the crowd.

I use a simple formula when I’m writing: audience, content, style. Many people, when they sit down to write, focus too much on style, or they obsess about content. The result is that they may virtually forget about the audience -- the people who might want to read their work. If you want to be read, then you have to make your writing user-friendly.

As musicians, we can fall into this same trap of style and content before everything else. A lot of beginning drummers obsess about speed, licks and chops, sometimes neglecting to study music and music history. Worse, they may play totally for their own amusement or to impress rather than express.

Now, despite the nature of his music, Max Roach said he played for the dancers. He wanted to play music that would move the listeners, to get them ‘on their feet’, if only in spirit. And it worked, despite the limitations that were applied to small clubs at the time(2). 

A great example of playing for the audience is Steve Moore "The Mad Drummer”. You've probably seen Steve in a video titled “This drummer is at the wrong gig.” A very capable player to begin with, Steve decided to specialize in what drives audiences crazy. Why? Well why not? And despite Steve's unorthodox style, he generally doesn't let it mess with the music. 

My suggestion is, next time out -- whether soloing or just playing time -- pay attention to your listeners and try to tell them a story through your instrument. If you get this right, your chops will be put to good use and you'll have a better chance of getting the ‘dancers’ on your side.

 

1 - This is a concept I got from veteran Toronto-based drummer Al Cross. In this video, Al talks about studying with Joe Morello.

2 - In 2017, New York City repealed its Cabaret Law. The law went into effect in 1926 and it banned dancing in clubs without the appropriate license, which many clubs -- primarily small jazz clubs -- could not afford. So Max really was playing for the dancers, even when they couldn't dance.

Everything I Know About Bearing Edges

It began decades ago, when I noticed that the profiles of a lot of bearing edges didn’t seem to match the profiles of plastic drum heads that were available. So I began playing around with bearing edges, and have continued to study their role in a drum’s sound.

Here’s what I think I've learned so far.

Close To The Edge
In the beginning, bearing edges were a nice-to-have, but not that big a deal. “Close enough” was close enough because calf-skin heads would always fit themselves to the drum. Plastic heads are not so accommodating. It's also not uncommon for a vintage drum to have somewhat irregular bearing edges, perhaps due to low tolerances at the factory, uneven shrinking of the shell material or physical damage. Such drums will be hard to tune unless given a bit of TLC.

Not All Created Equal
Modern drums are better suited to the profile of plastic drum head collars, but good design and quality control are not a guarantee of bearing edge excellence. You're right to expect perfection in a $1000+ instrument. However in the lower price tiers, the edges will naturally have received less attention. There’s a cost attached to bearing edges, and the labour costs will be reflected in the price of the drum. That said, a reasonably well made drum can often be 'up-cycled' by giving it a good bearing edge treatment just as a modest acoustic guitar can be improved with a high quality bridge saddle. The bearing edge is, after all, the drum's 'bridge'.

I'm So Confused
And so you should be. Options you may hear about bearing edges include: round-over, 30 degree, 45 degree, dual-45, reverse 45,  45 with round-over, bull-nose, baseball bat, vintage round-over. There are also different theories, applications, claims, boasts, and myths. 

Yes, It Really Does Matter
An uneven bearing edge can be a nightmare, but a 'proper' bearing edge may not be right either. The edge profile can have a significant effect on tone and other factors, including: resonance, brightness, tessitura, sustain, body, and volume. Most drum makers these days tailor the bearing edges to the style and economics of the drum -- e.g. vintage style edges on vintage style drums -- or perhaps they finish them to a house standard, “That Great Gretsch Sound” being one example. Some companies even offer a choice of bearing edges.

My advice is to not worry about it unless there are visible defects in the bearing edge or you're befuddled by a drum's behaviour. You can find a lot of information about bearing edge properties online. There are also videos that can show you how to check your bearing edges, and if there is an issue, a drum tech can help. It's also not that hard an exercise for a do-it-yourselfer ... again, lots of videos on this.

Photo by Gfilms

 

Cymbal Guarantees

Most quality products come with a guarantee or warranty these days. Cymbal companies too have warranties on their products. That means, if it breaks, they first of all want to know about it, and if it’s a quality issue they'll very likely send you a new cymbal.

But the breakage has to be their fault.

At one time, cymbal breakage was rare. People just plain played much less aggressively. And, to some extent they seemed to value their instruments more than seems to be the case with quite a number of contemporary players. Most companies will guarantee a newly purchased cymbal against certain types of breakage, but it ends there. If a player breaks a replacement cymbal, all love is lost and the cymbal will not be replaced. The rational is that the owner/player must be doing something wrong or just plain abusing their bronze.

If you find you're breaking a lot of cymbals, have a look at your cymbal set-up and how you hit. Your cymbals should be the correct size and weight for your music, and set up so that hitting with a glancing blow is the default.

Cymbal abuse comes in many forms, but the biggest issues are:

• Improper mounting,
• Too light for the job,
• Over-playing leading to fatigue,
• Hitting too hard,
• Hitting directly on-axis. 

Warranty Statements
Warranties are always limited. In the case of a cymbal, the maker will replace it if it is a manufacturing fault. There’s also a time limit, usually one or two years from the original date of purchase. That's pretty decent considering you're going to be beating these things regularly.

Sample Cymbal Warranty - from https://www.trurootcymbals.com. (Edited for length and clarity; emphasis added)

• Limited 1-Year from the date of purchase
• After inspection, [if] it is determined that your cymbal failed under normal use, a replacement will be provided. Typically, if a crack appears along the lathe lines it would fall under the scope of [the] warranty.
• Warranty does not cover any misuse. If a crack appears cutting through the lathe lines, it would fall outside of the warranty, as the damage would have been caused from misuse.

To Claim A Warranty
If you feel the failure was due to defects in the material or workmanship, pack up the cymbal and dig the receipt out of the shoe box. Take both to the place of purchase or to another authorized dealer for that brand. The rep at the music store should be able to guide you through the process, and can arrange for the cymbal to be sent for evaluation and possible replacement.

The Reject Pile
Your claims may be rejected for any of the following reasons:

• Excessive force or abuse (multiple cracks, edge cracks and cracks around the bell)
• Improper transport or storage
• Cymbals that have been dropped
• A product that has been altered in any way

So take care of your cymbals and chances are your cymbals will take care of you.

Photo by Tompet80,  Dreamstime.com

A Brief History of the Butt Plate (plus some other stuff)

The coiled-steel snare wire is a wonderful invention, and a huge improvement over, uh, animal parts. But making it happen required the simultaneous invention of the snare End Plate (1) and it's introduction opened a can of worms.

The original snare 'wires' were made of leather, usually some type of gut (intestine linings: sheep or goat ... not cat). When coupled with thin leather heads, gut snares worked well. All that was needed was a bit of relief in the rim and at the edge of the drum shell and all was well. Ordinary humidity would ensure that both the head and the gut snares would mould themselves perfectly to the Snare Bed (2) profile.

With the introduction of the butt plate, the game changed completely. Because snare wires are made of metal, they must be firmly attached to something that's strong enough to hold them. The standard butt plate is a slice of metal slightly wider than the set of wires and around 1/2-inch deep. It's metal (plastic was tried for a time, but soon abandoned) and it doesn't flex. So, where you once had soft, flexible gut strands that easily conformed to the leather drum head, you now have two chunks of inflexible metal that sit right plunk on the snare head at both sides of the drum. And that's a problem.

After the introduction of plastic heads and metal snares, the Snare Gate (3) was made larger, but the snare bed remained almost unchanged for a long time. There are even a few modern snare drum makers that still use old-style snare beds -- fairly deep and only marginally wider than the snares themselves. I might mention here that plastic drum heads don't sit well on deep, narrow snare beds. Double jeopardy.

There were some very creative attempts to solve the problem that mainly involved changing how the snares were attached to the drum. Leedy, Slingerland and a few others added a Snare Bridge (4) outside the snare gate at each side of the drum. The snare cords/straps traveled over the guide and ran parallel to the snare head when they entered the snare gate. This kept the butt plates from pressing into the head.

The Rogers Drum Company decided to mount the snares in a rack that kept the butt plates off the snare head. This trick had a second advantage: The horizontal snare tension could be adjusted separately from the vertical tension. Original Rogers ‘Dynasonic’ snare drums are still highly prized and have recently been reintroduced.

Another approach was to run the snares all the way across the snare head and completely out each side. Drums such as the Premier 2000, the Ludwig Super-Sensitive and the Tama King Beat have a beam running through the shell to hold the snare mechanism -- and the butt plates -- well outside the drum head area. Of course the objective was to have a fine degree of control both vertically and horizontally, but getting the butt plates off the head was also a priority. (Some of the ‘bracket-rigged’ drums incorporated snares that extended beyond the shell edges, but the results were unimpressive.)

As for the mounting holes in butt plates, some real science has gone into this, and also into the design of the butt plates themselves. Slots, channels, lifters, bends, and what have you ... who'd have thought that something so small and simple could have such an impact.

(1) Butt Plate/End Plate - A metal plate to which individual snare wires are attached. A set of snares has a butt plate at each end. Holes provide a means of attaching the snares to a drum.

(2) Snare Bed - Snare drum shells usually have two regions where the bottom bearing edge has been cut away to produce shallow channels at the edges of the snare head, allowing the snares to lie on the head more evenly. The width and depth of the snare bed can have a dramatic effect on snare response and also tone. Note that snare wires should be selected to match the profile of the snare bed.

(3) Snare Gate - Openings in the bottom rim of a snare drum that allow the snare attachments to pass through.

(4) Snare Bridge/Extension Bracket - A metal bracket attached to one or both sides of a snare drum that guides the snare strings through the snare gate. Provides something like a parallel snare effect and also allows fitting longer snare wires to the drum to eliminate the effect of an end plate. Snare bridges are pretty much obsolete.

Photo © Christoph Hähnel (Dreamstime ID 18749883)

We’ve Got Something To Say

When I was a young adult and living in the big city, I was fortunate to be able to see some great drummers on a regular basis. One night, while sitting at a club not far from where I lived, one of my favourite local players came off the stage and made his way to my table. He was not his usual smiling self, and as he sat down he said, “Some people just got nothin’ to say.” It was a life-altering moment. Up until then, drumming for me consisted of learning things off of records and practicing technique out of a book. You mean you can actually ‘say stuff’ with your instrument?

This principle came to mind recently when I heard three prominent ‘shredders’ on the radio. All three guitarists were known for their inhuman speed. Two of them seemed to be able to integrate speed nicely into the music… but the third? Well, I thought he sounded like he had some sort of quota to fill.

Much of player three’s soloing was merely fast. The speedy bits tended to dominate and often came across as not much more than filler. In general, the solo lacked contrast, dynamics, musical expression , and forward motion … i.e. nothin’ to say (at least, on that recording).

Player number two used speed as a contrast to a more melodic style of playing. Most of the solo was energetic and musical. And when there was an occasional blistering riff, it could be a bit of a jolt. But it always seemed appropriate. This type of contrast introduces instability -- an important quality in music -- which is then be resolved into something moderate.

Player number one (Alan Holdsworth, actually) used speed liberally. And when he did toss off a flurry, it always seemed to have a purpose, it always seemed to be going somewhere.

I find in my own playing that, when I try to be clever and show off a bit of speed, I’m more concerned about my playing than the music. And it shows. But when I try to put, for lack of a better word, expression into my playing, it usually goes more slowly and a lot better. And it feels a lot better too.

Speed is useful, speed is important, and used in moderation it can add a lot of colour and energy to our music. Speed itself is exciting and can be used to great effect, but when it’s continuous it becomes less interesting and can even be tiring for the listeners and others.

Photo credit: 912982 Erikreis, Dreamstime.com

Traditional Grip From The Ground Up

I may get hate mail for this, but as a teacher, long-time player and student of the drums, I would encourage you and anyone else to forget about learning traditional grip. The effort required is substantial and the payback can be hard to justify. There's not even any agreement on what the 'correct' left hand grip should look like. Plus the grip can be limiting and may even lead to pain and injury. Matched grip can handle just about anything you need or want to do, and with a lot less mystery and prep work.

But, let's assume I can't convince you otherwise and you're determined to master the technique of the ancient masters. Or perhaps you're already committed to the grip and just want to tone up your left hand. No problem, but let's see if we can do so in an organized, logical and less stressful manner. Here, then, are a few exercises I use to get the most out of the traditional grip.

The purpose of these exercises is purely to get the hand familiar with the different positions and movements of the traditional grip. None is a final product but all will contribute to a better and more useful grip.

All Crotchety
The traditional grip fulcrum will always be in the crotch of the thumb and first finger. Hold out your left hand (unless you're a lefty) as if you were going to shake someone's hand and put your stick firmly in the above-mentioned crotch. Now, keeping all other fingers away from the action, bounce the stick using just a twist of the forearm. Rotate the forearm outward and the stick rises. Then throw the stick down by turning the forearm inward. Keep the grip loose and allow the stick to rebound back to where it started.

Thumb's Up
Throw the stick down using just your thumb and let it bounce. Bounce the stick with the thumb while keeping your palm open, vertical and still. Your goal here is to 'dribble' the stick using just the thumb and rebound. This version of the technique is preferred by pipe and military drummers ... and some rockers.

First Things First
While a downward motion can come from the hand and/or thumb, the first finger can be equally effective. Keeping the wrist stable and thumb pointed up, bounce the stick using just your index finger. Practice free strokes and dribble strokes using the first finger for the down stroke and use the rebound for setup. The rest of your hand stays out of the way.

Just a Second
We don't use the second finger much with traditional grip, but it too can be useful. It can work in tandem with the first finger, play on its own, or just do nothing. As with the index finger, try making rebound strokes with just the second finger, keeping the thumb and forefinger relaxed. This one can be rather awkward so you may want to rotate your hand and play piano style (see below).

Third Finger’s a Charm
The typical use of the ring finger is to hold the stick up, to stabilize the stick, and to help lift it after a stroke. The third finger can also help put on the brakes after a stroke, catching the stick at the end of its travel.

Last ... and actually least
OK, the little finger doesn't play much of a role. Mainly it either supports the third finger or just minds its own business.

Up For Grabs
An interesting exercise is to use a grabbing motion as you make a stroke. The stick is held in the crotch of the hand, thumb pointing upward, the stick between the second and third digits. Then extend the fingers and execute a stroke by “grabbing the stick.” And repeat. This helps get all the digits working together.

Just For Fun
Try playing 'one-handed rolls' with your left hand. You can play single or double stroke rolls between the first and second fingers, or between the first finger and the thumb. Another trick is to rotate the hand so the first and second fingers are on top, and then use the fingers to tap the stick like the keys of a piano ... odd but effective.

Photo Credit: Joey Swart

How to Succeed

Buddy Rich said it well enough: "Be on time, wear a clean shirt and swing your ass off!” Despite Buddy's penchant for homely sweaters, his advice goes a long way toward spelling out the expectations (the basic requirements of the job) of being a pro, or at least desirable. I used to tell my business students something similar: Show up on time, wear the right clothes, and do what you were hired to do to the best of your ability.

Showing Up
Of course, standards vary. Some band leaders are happy if you're reliably in your spot before counting in the first tune. Others may have different expectations. I worked with one fellow who wanted me on-site an hour (unpaid) before our start time. Because I was often teaching or doing studio work at the other end of the city, that didn't work for me. Despite the fact that I was always there in plenty of time to freshen up and dust off my sticks, our relationship was doomed because the expectations were unrealistic and immovable.

“Showing up on time is one of the greatest
liberating act you can give yourself” - Tom Hanks

Dress the Role

My favourite band uniform ritual was with a casual lounge gig. Whenever the leader called me he asked, "Do you have a pair of dark blue pants?" I had black pants, which worked out just fine since I was sitting down all the time. But he never failed to ask about blue pants -- which I ‘forgot’ to buy due to the low pay and sparse gigs. If the job had been more steady, I'd have bought the required pants to go with the band’s Hawaiian shirts.

Band attire can go in any direction, but my advice is to respect the audience, your band members, your employer, and yourself by dressing well. I see a lot of musicians these days sporting a faded T-shirt and well-worn jeans ... boring, and somewhat disrespectful. So why not spice it up a bit and wear some colour? For years Paul Shaffer wore a new shirt for every gig, and in addition to adding a bit of visual interest, it was good marketing.

Keep Swinging 
After playing the same tunes with the same people for weeks, months or even years, it's easy to get complacent. Do you look bored? Uninterested? Tired of the routine? It shows, and it affects the music, the other performers and the audience. And it’s less fun.

So there it is. Show up on time, which means be there early enough to look after all pre-gig prep. Wear clean, interesting shirt, pants, dress, whatever ... and shine your shoes occasionally. And then swing your ass off.

Photo Credit: Sebastian Czapnik

Bruce Lee Never Played Drums

"I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks; I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times"

It was Master Lee's  contention that, while one could learn a lot of different techniques, we can truly master only a few. The people who have mastered their chosen craft have spent countless hours practicing a single fundamental item. Golfers practice their chip shots thousands of times. Tennis players practice their serve to the same degree. Are we drummers consistently following this proven path to success?

“I dare not say  that I have reached any state of achievement,  for I am still learning, for learning is boundless!”

How often do we spend a meaningful amount of time on one exercise before moving on to the next? Does it stay on our practice schedule until we own it, or do we cross it off after a few successful tries?  It's tempting to retire something if it seems to be presenting no problems, but that does not necessarily lead to mastery. I also find that when I'm itching to get on to the next thing, I don't concentrate well on what I'm doing, and that will hamper my progress.

“There are no limits. There are only plateaus, and you must not stay there; you must go beyond them”

Master drummer-educator John Riley says you need to over-master your skills, something he aptly calls 'headroom'. In order to do the job competently, you should strive to have way more technique and ability than needed. That way you can easily do what's called for regardless of the situation, and also have lots in reserve. You can then focus on the music and not worry about your ability to handle things.

“A goal is not always meant to be reached, it often serves simply as something to aim at” 

Having a sense of direction in your musical journey is vital, but imposing rigid (and possibly arbitrary) goals can be too confining, and may even steer you in the wrong direction. If you think of goals as guides rather than rules, then you can better focus on the journey.

“The successful warrior is the average man with laser-like focus”

When practicing a sticking exercise, rather than trying to play it faster, I’ll concentrate on how well I’m playing at that speed: Can I keep this up for a chorus or more without strain Are my feet co-ordinating well with my hands or am I playing a lot of flams? Does it sound musical? Should I slow it down? There’s a lot that I can focus on, and each aspect teaches me something while still moving towards my goal.

There's nothing magical about 10,000 hours or 10,000 repetitions, but the message is clear: More practice on a few items trumps less practice on many items. So while you may run the risk of being a ‘one kick wonder,’ what a marvelous kick that is going to be.

“The possession of anything begins in the mind”

Page 97 Up Close and Personal

I am a staunch disciple of renowned drum teacher Jim Blackley. His death in 2018 at the tender age of 86 silenced his voice, but it needn’t cut us off from his legacy and extraordinary teaching. If there is such a thing as a “Blackley System” then its foundation must be what we find in Section F, which starts on page 97 in Chapter 6 of “The Essence of Jazz Drumming. There are quite a few concepts encapsulated in the chapter, and each addresses a specific issue when applying the drums to jazz and indeed to all music styles. 

3-beat figures played in a 4-beat environment
Cross Rhythms (e.g. 3/4 over 4/4) in jazz is nothing new. Even the lines Jim presents aren’t new. But from humble beginnings, as they say …

Start in “Native Mode”
Play the 3-beat figures on page 98 in 3/4 time to get a feel for them. Once you’re comfortable with the figures in 3/4, you can begin to work them into 4/4 phrases.

2 + 2 Phrases
We can deploy the figures musically by playing two bars of time followed by two bars of the figure. In the case of 3-beat figures, we would play two bars of 4/4 followed by two sets of three plus the first two notes of the figure:  3 + 3 + 2 = 8 beats = 2 bars. A single cymbal stroke on 4 of the second bar helps to set up the figure (Note: this is a classic “call  & response” formula).

Counting in 3 & 4
How do you count 3-beat figures when four beats are the norm? It’s important that you can keep the 4/4 straight, so count in four. It’s also important to keep the “3/4” going. Practice counting both ways and you’ll soon be able to switch as needed.

 

Syncopation
Once the basic 3-beat figures are mastered, we take the concept further by syncopating the figures. In 4/4 time, the syncopated 3-beat figures produce a sonic melange of beats and pulses.

Punctuating Shots using Mnemonics
In jazz, the term “bebop” is derived from a rhythmic figure that is distinctive to that style, i.e. “be-BOP.” Mnemonics like this can help us hear and feel the long and short sounds of the rhythms, resulting in a more musical interpretation.

Playing in 4-bar and 8-bar phrases

Most music is constructed from 4-measure phrases, usually in a 2+2 form often with a call & response motif. An 8-bar phrase is simply two 4-bar phrases. Four and 8 bar phrases are the backbone of (almost) all music, so make a habit of practicing in 4 and 8 bar phrases as much as possible.

Turn-around & Set Up
This section focuses on wrapping up musical phrases with a ‘turn-around.’ A common practice in an 8-bar phrase is to play 6 bars of time followed by a 2-bar figure to close off one phrase and introduce the next one. 

Outlining: Shuffle & Triplet Extensions
The technique in this and the remaining sections is called Outlining. You do this by playing a musical statement with one hand -- in this case, the cymbal line -- and then filling in the ‘missing’ notes with the other hand.

Broken Time

A trend that emerged in jazz in the ’60s was to break up the ride pattern. Instead of a steady ‘ding dinga-ding’, drummers began using more space and syncopated figures to produce a looser feel.

Outlining Continued: Inner & Outer Lines
Each pattern has a rhythmic structure, but within that structure there is a second rhythm. In the Rhythmic Extensions (page 103) the cymbal line plays the outer or musical line while the ‘inner line’ is played on the snare with the other hand. This concept can be applied around the set, and any voice can carry either the outer or inner line.

Extended Cross Rhythms
Once you’ve mastered the 2-bar form of the cross rhythm, move on to 4, 8 and 12 bar phrases. The ultimate goal is to be able to play the 3-beat figures for however long you wish to. Note that the patterns resolve every three bars.

Soloing
Soloing with this material is just a matter of taking the outline sticking patterns and moving them around the set. It’s a bit formulaic, but it’s a good way to get the figures working for you. Remember that you have both the outer and the inner lines to play with. To get started, try playing the figures on toms, keeping the inner line on the snare. Experiment with ‘4s’ by playing 4 bars of time and then 4 bars of a figure.

---

The Essence of Jazz Drumming - “Practical steps to improvised musical performance through time, rhythm and the musical line. A must for every member of the rhythm section”

ISBN: 9780968840603

Available from Drumland: Drumland Canada
 

For Further Study
If you like this manner of playing, you can take it further by working on the 5-beat figures found in Chapter 11.

Also, I have compiled a list of annotations in a Study Guide to Jim’s game-changing book. Send me an email if you’d like a PDF copy: richard@drumyoda.com .

For more on Jim Blackley:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_Blackley 

https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/jim-blackley-emc

https://www.pipesdrums.com/article/james-jimmy-blackley-1927-2017/

 For more on mnemonics:
https://drumyoda.blogspot.com/2015/07/thoughts-on-comping-part-iv.html

Gearing Up for a Drum Solo

The first question I would ask when faced with a solo is, “Do I have to?” Well, that's just me. A more appropriate first question would be “How long?”

Solos fall into three distinct denominations: a specified length of time, a specified number of bars or choruses, and no limit. The context and type of solo you’re going to play will determine how you approach it.

Specified Time
Drum competitions, ‘drum-offs’, auditions, and media spots usually call for a solo of a specific length of time, usually 3 to 5 minutes. It's up to the soloist to manage that time, and temporal accuracy is an important factor. The easiest way to do this type of solo is to decide on a tempo and time signature, and then determine how many beats, bars and choruses will be required. Say you’re allowed 3 minutes for your solo composition (and it is a composition). You decide to solo in 5/4 at 132 bpm. To figure how many choruses you will need, just calculate: Time allowed x Tempo / Beats per bar / Phrase length = Number of choruses.

So:	3 min. x 132 bpm / 5 beats per bar / 12-bar chorus = 6 choruses + 8 bars
	3 min. x 132 bpm / 5 beats per bar / 32-bar chorus = 2 and a half choruses

Specified Bars/Choruses
In some musical contexts, drummers fit their solos into the tune's phrase structure. In a 12-bar blues, for example, you might play two choruses of 12 bars each. In a 32-bar tune, you might play 8, 16 or the full 32 bars. A popular technique is ‘trading 4s’, where the band plays 4 bars and the drummer solos for 4 bars, usually keeping up the exchange for a full chorus. This technique is also applied to ‘8s’, ‘2s’ and even ‘1s’. An interesting twist on this is trading 4- or 8-bar solos in a 12-bar form.

No Set Time Limit
This is the classic crowd-pleasing drum solo, where the artist has complete freedom (within reason). A well crafted solo will build to an energetic climax, at which point the drummer will signal to the band that the solo is coming to an end. The examples that come to mind immediately are Buddy Rich, who seemed to solo until he was exhausted, and Tommy Lee, who likes to ‘work the crowd’ as part of his solo feature.

According to Peter Erskine, a solo is just a series of fills. So Fill + Fill + Fill  = Solo. If you work with 2-bar fills, you’re well on your way to creating a presentable solo.

Structured vs. Unstructured
A drum solo will have some sort of structure, and the nature of that structure will determine how the player gets the job done. A fully structured solo will adhere to a predetermined form. A jazzer who plays several choruses or the rocker who does a somewhat scripted 5-minute solo are both playing structured solos. The time or length is spelled out, and usually the player won't depart from the tune’s tempo, and may even stick to the song form.

An unstructured solo can be quite free form. While a general time limit may be preset, the soloist is free to acknowledge or ignore the music that led up to the solo. That means the drummer can switch phrasing, tempos and time signatures at will.

So, which type of solo is right for you?
The solo style you choose will depend on context. Your solo should relate to the music you’re playing. The strictly timed solo probably won't apply in your typical bar or concert setting, so a structured or more relaxed style would be more suitable. Many drummers find it difficult to play a set number of choruses, and would prefer a more open approach (Tip: If you're planning to play jazz, better get used to playing 4’s and 8’s). So play the tune's structure or just wing it -- either one will work.

It's perfectly acceptable to memorize a framework or even a complete solo. Some drummers rely on a set beginning and a set ending, with the middle part left for improvisation. You can always get more creative as you gain more experience with soloing. And no matter how you decide to approach it, be sure to work out your ending cue with the band beforehand.

Photo Credit: 512058 © Paul-andré Belle-isle, Dreamstime.com