(no subject)
eh, so we meet again LiveJournal....
anyhow, slong but insightful entry on me love affair with drums. Alot has gone in my life on since my last post but I'm going to keep this entry strictly band-related. As some of you might know, I don't really practice or play as often as I did a year or two ago. For the past 5 years or so I have been pretty indecisive as to what I really want to do with this hobby. Drumming has always sat on the back-burner in my life. Even at the early stage in my life when drumming became apparent, I never committed to the natural ability I had of hitting things with sticks. Those early teenage years were spent on daydreaming, doing homework or hanging with friends. I joined a few bands and had some fun...honed my skills a bit. My late teens and into my 20's pretty much solidified what I had believed...I LOVE drumming. Not only did it serve as a therapeutic release, I also found love in it's art form. Again, the time needed to "get good" was spent on becoming a responsible adult. I failed at both. By then, I had been in various bands (some decent, some really bad) and was comfortable enough with the little skills I had as a drummer to get by. Along those washy years I had taken drumming lessons with Phil Stanger. Phil used to embody the disciplined ex-marine, 1950's jazz hardass bopper. His take on drumming was just as direct as it was with women, work and life in general...oh and baseball too! Maybe his explosive temper and character wasn't right for me in that point of my life. The explosiveness and temper although, became a part of my personality. There was some discontent as to how my drumming was taking shape. I wasn't becoming a monster player as most of his students were. I still was stuck on the illusion of a good player rather than the substance. Phil knew where my head and ability was but couldnt seem to unleash my potential. It wasnt his fault. It was totally mine. I was lazy...still am but not nearly as close to what I was. Anyhow, at some point my money was running short and I stopped with the lessons. Here I was, 23 years old and I owned nothing but some clothes, my red Pearl drum kit and some Sabian cymbals (which took me the whole summer of 92 working at McDonalds for). I was at a crossroad. I had just auditioned for a local band earlier in the spring and now the end of summer was fast approaching. My options with music had pretty much dwindled. I knew that drumming was in my blood but failure consumed me. I really wanted to at least try and make it a living. Luckily for me, the band I had auditioned with called me at the moment when I had lost hope with drumming. The band was very succesful in the early 90's and had we had the best looking girls come to our gigs than any other band in the southeastside. All good things come to an end...or at least they die down. A conflict of ego's mixed with unfortunate luck and bad decisions really killed the band. Regardless of the demise, I had lived out a childhood dream.
Years and a few bands later, I feel a sense of unfinished business. My playing has gotten better. I took some lessons with Chuck Harling, master teacher, who opened my eyes and EARS and taught with a philosphical approach. I learned how to actually listen to music. How to apply a musical approach to drumming. Chuck and I even played the same genre of music. I never was one for loud, heavy metal music...today I CANT STAND it, and I love jazz but dont have the facility to play it. I love pop rock-indie music. I love playing it and listening to it. Ironically, at this point in my life I have ZERO time to devote to playing. Between jiu jitsu (my other love) and my partner in crime (my true and main love) I need to work and sleep so practice doesnt fit into the equation. The drum bug has bitten! At this point in my life though, I am comfortable with just giving what I've got. It should be good enough. Hopefully some of you will hear it within the next months.
anyhow, slong but insightful entry on me love affair with drums. Alot has gone in my life on since my last post but I'm going to keep this entry strictly band-related. As some of you might know, I don't really practice or play as often as I did a year or two ago. For the past 5 years or so I have been pretty indecisive as to what I really want to do with this hobby. Drumming has always sat on the back-burner in my life. Even at the early stage in my life when drumming became apparent, I never committed to the natural ability I had of hitting things with sticks. Those early teenage years were spent on daydreaming, doing homework or hanging with friends. I joined a few bands and had some fun...honed my skills a bit. My late teens and into my 20's pretty much solidified what I had believed...I LOVE drumming. Not only did it serve as a therapeutic release, I also found love in it's art form. Again, the time needed to "get good" was spent on becoming a responsible adult. I failed at both. By then, I had been in various bands (some decent, some really bad) and was comfortable enough with the little skills I had as a drummer to get by. Along those washy years I had taken drumming lessons with Phil Stanger. Phil used to embody the disciplined ex-marine, 1950's jazz hardass bopper. His take on drumming was just as direct as it was with women, work and life in general...oh and baseball too! Maybe his explosive temper and character wasn't right for me in that point of my life. The explosiveness and temper although, became a part of my personality. There was some discontent as to how my drumming was taking shape. I wasn't becoming a monster player as most of his students were. I still was stuck on the illusion of a good player rather than the substance. Phil knew where my head and ability was but couldnt seem to unleash my potential. It wasnt his fault. It was totally mine. I was lazy...still am but not nearly as close to what I was. Anyhow, at some point my money was running short and I stopped with the lessons. Here I was, 23 years old and I owned nothing but some clothes, my red Pearl drum kit and some Sabian cymbals (which took me the whole summer of 92 working at McDonalds for). I was at a crossroad. I had just auditioned for a local band earlier in the spring and now the end of summer was fast approaching. My options with music had pretty much dwindled. I knew that drumming was in my blood but failure consumed me. I really wanted to at least try and make it a living. Luckily for me, the band I had auditioned with called me at the moment when I had lost hope with drumming. The band was very succesful in the early 90's and had we had the best looking girls come to our gigs than any other band in the southeastside. All good things come to an end...or at least they die down. A conflict of ego's mixed with unfortunate luck and bad decisions really killed the band. Regardless of the demise, I had lived out a childhood dream.
Years and a few bands later, I feel a sense of unfinished business. My playing has gotten better. I took some lessons with Chuck Harling, master teacher, who opened my eyes and EARS and taught with a philosphical approach. I learned how to actually listen to music. How to apply a musical approach to drumming. Chuck and I even played the same genre of music. I never was one for loud, heavy metal music...today I CANT STAND it, and I love jazz but dont have the facility to play it. I love pop rock-indie music. I love playing it and listening to it. Ironically, at this point in my life I have ZERO time to devote to playing. Between jiu jitsu (my other love) and my partner in crime (my true and main love) I need to work and sleep so practice doesnt fit into the equation. The drum bug has bitten! At this point in my life though, I am comfortable with just giving what I've got. It should be good enough. Hopefully some of you will hear it within the next months.