First things first - grab your discounted tickets to my New Paltz clinic next Saturday the 3rd at 1:30pm. Save $5 by buying early.
When Meinl reached out to me in late summer of last year, asking if I could record a series of educational videos for them, I had one condition: let me play an unstructured drum solo.
I’d been inspired by “clinic” performances of people like Guiliana and Marcus Gilmore, and had been practicing “free form” solos for about the last year. Here was an opportunity to have such a solo recorded professionally, on an exquisite kit in a beautiful studio. We did it in one take. I felt like I’d reached exactly the right psychological “zone” - not nervous, not thinking, not “showy”; just creative.
I’d recorded it on my iphone, and listening back, I was satisfied.
When Meinl sent me the rough take, I was even more happy, hearing it through the “real” mics for the first time.
Then I made the mistake of reading the comments.
The first dozen-or-so were very kind and supportive. But then began the backlash. “This is what happens when people spend time creating content instead of practicing.”
“I guess they’ll sponsor anybody with a following these days.”
“For sure don’t play a beat or anything, or try to make any music.”
“This guy sounds ‘self taught’.”
I listened again, mystified.
Still thought it was good. Sorry. Then I did something I recommend even less than reading the comments. I followed some back to the source. And many of them were from “pretty good” prog drummers. Guys probably with better singles than mine, and for sure better double kick.
Gradually, with full awareness that this was at best a “break even” - between healthy (i.e. getting inspiration to work harder) and unhealthy (i.e. picking at a wound) - use of my time, I started putting together a picture of what this type was looking for.
Do something musically impossible to fake, like playing with an odd meter track. If you’re only soloing against a referent in your head, it’s like abstract art.
Play with more volume and/or power. It’s true that I was a bit intensity-limited.
Do something technically impossible to fake, like single strokes, or playing 2 meters-at-once.
So began the bootcamp that inspired last month’s “cave” video.
Single strokes on the ride cymbal with both hands. Then neoprene mutes. Then around the kit, like Richie Martinez or John Hoffman.
Trying to translate that back into the improv, and practicing with noise-cancelling cans to try to prime my muscle memory to play harder.
And more practice with ostinatos, to allow a listener to keep a reference of what I was doing, including in odd times (though nothing verging on Cohen or Lyman territory.)
And I was happy to say that, looking at some of the “before” and “after” videos of the progression, I think I did get some decent growth out of it. And it sure inspired a whole bunch of videos.
This past week, I went back to the Meinl video, expecting to see a ton of new areas in which it “fell short”.
To my surprise, I think it held up.
A couple of days later, at total random, I was watching the Drumeo video of a hero - one of my favorite modern solos. I happened to check the comments, and they were brutal.
“Who’s this guy.”
“I thought this was supposed to be a channel for great drummers.”
Wait a minute. You’re never going to please an anonymous youtube commenter in his mom’s basement?
And so continued the not-completely-healthy push-pull of using haters to fuel me with getting pulled off track. And the hopes that with each swing of the pendulum, hopefully I get a little perspective.
But to you, the viewers, go the spoils. The cave video. The “gen-z beats” video. The new upcoming single-stroke bootcamp video”.
And what should you take away from it if you’re reading this, about to go down to the shed. Well, reality is messy. I could say “don’t worry about what anybody else thinks”. But then you’d be missing a key-ingredient to push yourself. It’s not a coincidence that the “average” level of drummers everywhere shot up as soon as Instagram was widely-available.
But neither is “always read the negative comments” great advice.
But that imperfection and those contradictions show up in the art as well. No comedian makes it through years of open-mics without a thick skin about crowds, no attending physician makes it out of residency without some road-wariness, and every musician you see on SNL has thousands of bad performances and thousands of negative comments behind them.
At any rate, here’s hoping some of you are finding the sweet spot on this Sunday in early spring.
Best to you.
