How to get out of your head when you play

Today's lesson is about "gig anxiety" or "stage fright".

It's one thing in the practice room, but when we get in front of people, or we want to make a good impression, that's when the nerves happen and we get up in our heads.

But for some of us, it's tough to get out of our heads *even in the practice room*.

The was the case for me.

When I first started playing, ignorance was bliss. I'd bang gleefully along with my favorite records, never knowing that "I sucked", so I had no reason to be self-conscious.

Once I went to music school - heck, once I started playing in bands - I *started* to grasp the height and steepness of the mountain, and then I started getting in my head.

Sure, I was improving technically. But my playing became cerebral, and I was no longer having fun.

One big "elephant in the room" is the typical advice I give on this channel: I *encourage* people to drill down, and root out their weaknesses, rather than living in the illusion that they're good.

So how do I reconcile this with my admonition to find the "fun" in music?

A couple of ways.

First, it's about realizing that you'll go through "cycles". To reach a new plateau is going to require some pain and frustration, but once you "level up" you can enjoy playing again.

More subtly, we can draw a "perimeter" around the shed. When we're in the shed, we focus on rooting out our weaknesses. When we're on the gig, or in real musical situations, we have to be equally committed to getting out of our heads and making music.

But how are we supposed to practice getting out of our heads when all the popular exercises are about technique, or coordination, or time?

Via the methods in this video, hopefully;)

Is Jazz Dead? (No)

Jazz Standards have been on my brain this past week. Maybe blame Jacob Mann, who's currently crushing the wedding/bar mitzvah game with his Jazz Standers Trio.

I have friends who tell me "jazz is dead". Whether it's magical thinking or confirmation bias born of spending 6 years of my life and a consequential sum of money on my "jazz education", I'm not ready to say that by a long shot.

Nor am I fully on-board with the thesis that Kneebody and Snarky Puppy are the "jazz" now. Those are two of my favorite musical acts, but I don't think even they'd say they were "jazz" - definitely "jazz influenced", but not "jazz" per se.

Nor am I ready to say the only "jazz" is completely repertory. Rehashing the 1950s like zero time has passed. I think we've come too far since 1990 to go back.

The "sweet spot" - one some friends insist is so small as to be inconsequential (and obviously I disagree) - is jazz that isn't fusion, but isn't repertory either. And I assert there are *plenty* of records in that vein.

Which begs the question: why aren't any of those tunes in real books?

Seamus Blake's Badlands.

Terence Blanchard's Wandering Wonder.

Zhivago by Kurt, f@#$ sakes.

This week's lesson simultaneously catalogues ten records I think we should add to the real book, and my climate-fueled retreat to the west coast for a few days.

Hope you enjoy.

Nate vs BS YouTube Drum Advice

There's a lot of drum advice out there, and a lot of it is good advice.

"Don't bury your head in the music. Listen and pay attention to the band."

"Watch the dynamics."

"Play for the song."

Etc. All solid advice.

Then, there's some advice that's *not* so copacetic. Like the kind of advice that seems to surface in my comment threads.

"It's all about books and exercises."

"You shouldn't count, bro, you should just FEEL IT."

And more.

I've done videos before about the "small amount of knowledge is dangerous" thing. It's called the Dunning Kruger Effect, and it means that in many cases, the *less* knowledge you have about a subject matter, the *higher* you rate your skills.

But in this video I decided to take a swing not at the tree, but at the apples. And there are five commonly recurring misconceptions for which I'm ready to draw a line in the sand.

Increasingly, I see my role on the Drum-ternet as being the guy who proves there are "layers", or "levels to this game", which might be opaque to a newcomer.

It's tough, because we can't "roll with a black belt" in drums (though we can shed with one) (but a lot of the commenters probably don't)...

...so there are fewer "reality checks".

But anybody who's been playing for more than a handful of years has had at least a handful of those reality checks.

- The first time we learned we didn't sound as good on stage as we did in our heads

- The first time we thought we were nailing it, then we heard a recording

- The first time we thought we killed, then we heard a real master play live, right after us

Myths, misconceptions, and Dunning Kruger effects don't survive first contact with these reality checks well, but not everybody gets to experience one.

So let this be a "video reality check". Check it out here.

Hope you enjoy.

Try This to Make Your Triplet Fills Better Instantly

The post-it version of today's lesson is "practice 2/2 in triplets to make your fills better".

So, why didn't I just tell you that? It would've take two minutes. Well, that probably sells this lesson sort.

But it's not quite "play exactly like Chris Coleman, Aaron Spears, and Sean Wright" either.

If you're expecting transcriptions, this is not the lesson.

The truth is somewhere in-between: and, in a world where I need to entice you to watch as much of my videos as possible, I wanted to take you inside my thought process -

- What got me thinking about triplet fills in the first place

- Why Sean Wright got the sound of groups of 4 triplets in my head

- How that translated into 2/2

- Why that immediately benefited my fills

- How to do it yourself

Which is NOT to say this is the last word on groups of 4 within triplets. There's 3/1 (or 6/2 sextuplets), other permutations, and combinations of them.

I'll keep messing with it.

Here's my promise: if you watch this week's lesson, and practice it for half-an-hour, you will notice a difference in your triplet fills.

How about that?

See you next week