...Drink muthatrucka!!!
Anyhow, A few weeks ago I had this pretty insane drumming sesh. What was great about it was that it was about 15 hours over a weekend (which is pretty massive, particularly with all the shit I've got going on) and all-consuming (which is always awesome). The great thing about the consuming nature of a good practice session is that you get into this trance-like state, which is appropriate if you're playing...
...
Trance.
Anyways, I used my time to focus on the left side. The famed "left-side" that always intimidates drummers; you'll noticed the intimidation in how a particular drummer sets up his drums. There is no symmetry, only all the drums you could think of on one side, and on the other... well, that that's the side you can access your seat to sit down.
I worked predominantly on my feet, as they have been my Achilles' Heel since I've been playing (pun intended... get it? get it?). I played WITH my pedals against a pad, and worked mostly on consistent double strokes at moderate tempos. I felt that my left leg would tense up, and that I would start to have to alter my leg position to accomplish the double stroke. I thought that it was a good thing to do, as it would keep the consistency of the pattern, but most importantly it would allow for the neural networks to develop throughout the right side of the brain (which affects the left side of the body) and for the nerves to build myelin on the way down the leg (THE SHANK!!!).
Apologies for my outbursts... this is what happens when coffee and cookies are your main source of nutrition between meals.
After double strokes, I'd give myself a minute or so to reset, readjust, and work on paradiddles. After doing the double strokes, paradiddles seemed more effortless (or less effortful) as they are a combination of single strokes and double strokes. I was only able to work on the first pattern with the accent on the first note of each side's paradiddle.
After working on paradiddles, I then started working on different subdivisions. The doubles and paradiddles really worked wonders to loosen my legs up, and I was able to accomplish foot speeds, accuracy, power, and consistency like never before. So much so that I was able to perform Metallica's "One", which had been a measure for me to be able to play on drums. I'm a lot later than some of the dudes I've played with over the years before, but felt good as an accomplishment.
So much so that I needed some external validation, so I set up my cell phone vidicam to send a brief video of the "performance" to my brother. As I was playing on the pads, it took a couple of takes before I was able to complete one viable "performance". I posted it to YouTube and he was able to watch... few days later.
Another thing that practice session allowed me to work on is unison hand/foot patterns where I will hit the same side hand and foot in unison (which takes some effort for me to accomplish right now). I alternated hands and feet and this has made different rhythmic accents tighter and has allowed me to become more versatile in the kinds of phrases I can play. Since I don't have to always accent with my right hand to a cymbal (with the right foot striking the kick), I can do the same for the left side (left hand and foot hitting a cymbal/kick in unison). This way, if I want to be able to start a phrase, I can do so with one hand, or another, depending on how I feel.
Anyhow, really proud of this week's breakthroughs! Will try to update again soon!
Chris
Monday, November 19, 2012
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Dad's B-day
The dim lighting hid the familiar bartender from me for a bit. Once I remembered where I was, I made sure to say "hello". When she returned the warm smile, I sat back down and waited for my compatriots, one of which was the man of the hour (well, actually, he was the man of the last 60 years, and he who spawned me, clothed, fed, burped and raised me). My father and my brother walked in shortly after I sat down, I wished Dad a happy birthday (to which he grunted), and welcomed my brother to Pasadena (where he doesn't visit very often). My dad's off-color remarks were in high gear as his Tourette's Syndrome-like rapid fire annunciations of various euphemisms for body parts were flying through the normally mid/high-brow atmosphere. Hey, it's his day!
The kit and the electric keyboard/piano were set up, taunting potential listeners with their ominous presence and capability of being loud, overbearing, captivating and annoying at the same time. My dad playfully suggests that we dually debut our duo/trio as musicians and saboteurs. Chuckling through a dim smile, I peruse the beer/wine list for a quenching beverage. I had walked to the restaurant. I was thirsty.
With beverages in hand, conversation in play, and the order on the wheel, our attention turns to 3 musicians taking the stage. The keyboardist, a 50-somthing grey haired fellow had been greeting arriving guests warmly. Looking like David Strathairn from A League of Their Own, he maneuvered himself stage left facing the drumkit and sax player. The drummer wore long pig-tails atop a slender 20-ish figure, the expression on her face as she took the stage seemed one part focused, and the other part frightened. She sat high over the kit as she collected her brushes and prepared to play.
Brass was forgetful. Sorry dude.
The band started with some very basic 12 bar structure. It was evident that we were not going to get the transcendent uptempo bop runs, but the droning romantic crooning numbers that the "anysomething" sax player could recite the melodic lines he was studying in class. I sort of cringed at first and figured maybe he'd be able to miss some of the poor note choices he was reaching for (it's why Jazz is hard).
What I found blandly unentertaining was the expression on the face of the figure behind the drum kit. I couldn't tell you if her eye color was light or dark. She seemed to focus on the snare as if it would play a trick on her if she gazed away once. She sat stiff on her throne, seeming not to enjoy herself, but to "work" the drums the same way the kitchen chefs labored over our evening meals.
As the table made conversation about notes the sax player was missing, and how we wish mon chere ami would show some other expression than misery and/or ambivalence, our stomachs also grumbled almost in a unison chorus. After a near 45 min wait, our meals arrived and we began to dine. I ordered my steak medium, but received it well done and dry. My brother ordered his medium-rare, but received minimal pink coloring on the inside, and dry as well.
Dad ordered the salmon. Good choice.
We eventually left, abandoned our plans for catching a movie nearby, and sat in a smoke shop, puffing on cigars and talking about our collective passions: rock n' roll, and baseball.
After that night, I was left wondering: what was up with that drummer? I understand jazz is something that takes more mental capacity than most other contemporary types of music, but you'd figure a gigging musician (even a student) would find SOME kind of energy/excitement for playing with other folks. Was it even fun for her? Why would she play if it wasn't fun. She wasn't terrible. She didn't foul up. She even took a solo and got a little impressive. But she wasn't fun to watch.
I started to type something like "this was a good lesson for me in that I should enjoy playing" yada yada yada... but the funny thing is: I do! Naturally. Get me behind a kit with some people I enjoy playing with, and I'm having a great time. I mean, unless Ed Murrow on the keys is giving me a hard time and I'm upset about it, I guess I could understand being morose, but really, I'd rather have fun behind the kit than most other places in the world.
(they had to substitute my $29 steak for short ribs... I wonder if the chef was a drummer...)
The kit and the electric keyboard/piano were set up, taunting potential listeners with their ominous presence and capability of being loud, overbearing, captivating and annoying at the same time. My dad playfully suggests that we dually debut our duo/trio as musicians and saboteurs. Chuckling through a dim smile, I peruse the beer/wine list for a quenching beverage. I had walked to the restaurant. I was thirsty.
With beverages in hand, conversation in play, and the order on the wheel, our attention turns to 3 musicians taking the stage. The keyboardist, a 50-somthing grey haired fellow had been greeting arriving guests warmly. Looking like David Strathairn from A League of Their Own, he maneuvered himself stage left facing the drumkit and sax player. The drummer wore long pig-tails atop a slender 20-ish figure, the expression on her face as she took the stage seemed one part focused, and the other part frightened. She sat high over the kit as she collected her brushes and prepared to play.
Brass was forgetful. Sorry dude.
The band started with some very basic 12 bar structure. It was evident that we were not going to get the transcendent uptempo bop runs, but the droning romantic crooning numbers that the "anysomething" sax player could recite the melodic lines he was studying in class. I sort of cringed at first and figured maybe he'd be able to miss some of the poor note choices he was reaching for (it's why Jazz is hard).
What I found blandly unentertaining was the expression on the face of the figure behind the drum kit. I couldn't tell you if her eye color was light or dark. She seemed to focus on the snare as if it would play a trick on her if she gazed away once. She sat stiff on her throne, seeming not to enjoy herself, but to "work" the drums the same way the kitchen chefs labored over our evening meals.
As the table made conversation about notes the sax player was missing, and how we wish mon chere ami would show some other expression than misery and/or ambivalence, our stomachs also grumbled almost in a unison chorus. After a near 45 min wait, our meals arrived and we began to dine. I ordered my steak medium, but received it well done and dry. My brother ordered his medium-rare, but received minimal pink coloring on the inside, and dry as well.
Dad ordered the salmon. Good choice.
We eventually left, abandoned our plans for catching a movie nearby, and sat in a smoke shop, puffing on cigars and talking about our collective passions: rock n' roll, and baseball.
After that night, I was left wondering: what was up with that drummer? I understand jazz is something that takes more mental capacity than most other contemporary types of music, but you'd figure a gigging musician (even a student) would find SOME kind of energy/excitement for playing with other folks. Was it even fun for her? Why would she play if it wasn't fun. She wasn't terrible. She didn't foul up. She even took a solo and got a little impressive. But she wasn't fun to watch.
I started to type something like "this was a good lesson for me in that I should enjoy playing" yada yada yada... but the funny thing is: I do! Naturally. Get me behind a kit with some people I enjoy playing with, and I'm having a great time. I mean, unless Ed Murrow on the keys is giving me a hard time and I'm upset about it, I guess I could understand being morose, but really, I'd rather have fun behind the kit than most other places in the world.
(they had to substitute my $29 steak for short ribs... I wonder if the chef was a drummer...)
Friday, July 15, 2011
Triplet Ostinato
I've been talking about "epic tom beats" for a few weeks now. They've been revolving in my head for a long time. A caffeinated me takes the elevator to the first floor of the building I work on, and if I'm sharing the elevator, I stay quiet. Otherwise, I'm usually working out some kind of pattern in the expanses of my cranial enclosure. Trust me, the reverb is fantastic in there!
So Wednesday I start thinking of a pattern in triplet. 2 right hands (floor tom) and one left foot (hi-hat closure). Easy enough. Of the two right hands, my 2nd right hand is the accent. When I imagine the beat on the rack tom that I want to play, 2 8ths and a triplet (with an accent on the third subdivided beat). I can play this when I'm not playing the ostinato, (it's easy), but then when I start using the hand/foot pattern, I'm toast!
Plus, I haven't decided what I want to do with my right foot. The bass drum (in my head) is non-existent so far. I might just use it to play the quarter note pulses, but still, it's not quite settled about how I want to use that.
So once I get this down and sorted, my left hand will be free to wander around the kit, playing the pattern on different voices (such as various rack/floor toms and the snare on accents), but also ad-lib'ing outside of the prewritten pattern.
I wrote the pattern out on a grid, and have worked on the ostinato last night and today in the duller points of my training meeting. Eep! Time to go back.
Fine.
So Wednesday I start thinking of a pattern in triplet. 2 right hands (floor tom) and one left foot (hi-hat closure). Easy enough. Of the two right hands, my 2nd right hand is the accent. When I imagine the beat on the rack tom that I want to play, 2 8ths and a triplet (with an accent on the third subdivided beat). I can play this when I'm not playing the ostinato, (it's easy), but then when I start using the hand/foot pattern, I'm toast!
Plus, I haven't decided what I want to do with my right foot. The bass drum (in my head) is non-existent so far. I might just use it to play the quarter note pulses, but still, it's not quite settled about how I want to use that.
So once I get this down and sorted, my left hand will be free to wander around the kit, playing the pattern on different voices (such as various rack/floor toms and the snare on accents), but also ad-lib'ing outside of the prewritten pattern.
I wrote the pattern out on a grid, and have worked on the ostinato last night and today in the duller points of my training meeting. Eep! Time to go back.
Fine.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
....then the guitar stops. The drums keep going and then the drummer hears the guitars stop, so he stops. The bass player looks up from his fretboard and then HE stops playing. Apparently something is amiss... "Dude, umm, can you actually throw more cymbals in there?" "Sure, ok." (Stick hits) Click - Click - Click - Click .... As the song starts over again, what the drummer played on the floor tom was switched over to the hi-hat. The guitarist nods to the drummer that it sounds like what he wanted. Then the verse starts and he begins to grumble the makeshift lyrics into the microphone...
That was probably the highlight of practice on Saturday. We took one of Chris's ideas he's been working on and made it happen. Hell, even Jason was able to follow along and solidify some bass lines.
We were able to get through a few new songs this way. Introduce them at the basic level, and jam on them until the decision gets made to "...do this for this many times and then we'll do the other part for 4 times..." The really casual nature of each member of Trunk (yes, myself included in that) makes it possible for the songwriter to drive the boat when it comes to producing the song. Usually, producers sit in and say "hey, you (points at one member) try playing this and you (points at another) try playing that because (insert reason here)". Well, Chris is doing all of this. I can tell when I've played something he likes because then he'll start to groove a little more and he doesn't stop the song and suggest something else. That's when you know I've "hit gold" so to speak.
The reason I say it's strange that this works for me is that I've driven the boat in most other projects that I've played in. The last project before Trunk, I was working by myself (instrumentally) to put the songs together. Let me tell you, that's really difficult. I have much respect for geniuses like Stevie Wonder and Prince who can just kick out tune after tune on each of the instruments. One of my favorite albums in the world is "Innervisions" (Stevie Wonder), with the first track only needing a few voices to fill out the player list. Other than that, Stevie plays drums, bass, keys, harmonica, and vocals for most of it. That track, titled "Too High" has got this really great, funky swing to it that I dare most drummers to take on. Stevie's got a feel that has a saucy, upbeat flavoring to it. He's got a pretty intricate ride pattern during the verses, adding energy and pulse to the listening experience. Prince's contributions to the Purple Rain soundtrack and his writing songs for Vanity, The Time, and his own band (with The Revolution) shows that he's got much versatility.
I look up to these guys, but realized in my past work that I'm better as a collaborator. So when I'm sitting behind the kit, and hearing what Chris wants me to do, I don't object. I don't grimace. I don't get upset. And when he's got ideas about what he wants to make happen, I listen, and try to fulfill those ideas as much as possible. Hell, I'll even offer the sticks over so he can beat out something he wants to hear. He's fabricated the song in his mind. I should know, this happens to me often as well, and I respect Chris's musical sensibilities enough to trust that he's got the best interest of the song in mind.
I've heard that a lot lately. "It's all about the song." Many people take that too far, and forget that taste and flavor is needed in the song, as much as space and dynamics. I like listening to busy patterns. I also like very simple grooves (as long as it grooves). Takes a lot to make the world go 'round... really.
That was probably the highlight of practice on Saturday. We took one of Chris's ideas he's been working on and made it happen. Hell, even Jason was able to follow along and solidify some bass lines.
We were able to get through a few new songs this way. Introduce them at the basic level, and jam on them until the decision gets made to "...do this for this many times and then we'll do the other part for 4 times..." The really casual nature of each member of Trunk (yes, myself included in that) makes it possible for the songwriter to drive the boat when it comes to producing the song. Usually, producers sit in and say "hey, you (points at one member) try playing this and you (points at another) try playing that because (insert reason here)". Well, Chris is doing all of this. I can tell when I've played something he likes because then he'll start to groove a little more and he doesn't stop the song and suggest something else. That's when you know I've "hit gold" so to speak.
The reason I say it's strange that this works for me is that I've driven the boat in most other projects that I've played in. The last project before Trunk, I was working by myself (instrumentally) to put the songs together. Let me tell you, that's really difficult. I have much respect for geniuses like Stevie Wonder and Prince who can just kick out tune after tune on each of the instruments. One of my favorite albums in the world is "Innervisions" (Stevie Wonder), with the first track only needing a few voices to fill out the player list. Other than that, Stevie plays drums, bass, keys, harmonica, and vocals for most of it. That track, titled "Too High" has got this really great, funky swing to it that I dare most drummers to take on. Stevie's got a feel that has a saucy, upbeat flavoring to it. He's got a pretty intricate ride pattern during the verses, adding energy and pulse to the listening experience. Prince's contributions to the Purple Rain soundtrack and his writing songs for Vanity, The Time, and his own band (with The Revolution) shows that he's got much versatility.
I look up to these guys, but realized in my past work that I'm better as a collaborator. So when I'm sitting behind the kit, and hearing what Chris wants me to do, I don't object. I don't grimace. I don't get upset. And when he's got ideas about what he wants to make happen, I listen, and try to fulfill those ideas as much as possible. Hell, I'll even offer the sticks over so he can beat out something he wants to hear. He's fabricated the song in his mind. I should know, this happens to me often as well, and I respect Chris's musical sensibilities enough to trust that he's got the best interest of the song in mind.
I've heard that a lot lately. "It's all about the song." Many people take that too far, and forget that taste and flavor is needed in the song, as much as space and dynamics. I like listening to busy patterns. I also like very simple grooves (as long as it grooves). Takes a lot to make the world go 'round... really.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Stick Control
I bash. Ask my hi-hats. They're angry with me. I hit them WAAAY too hard. I learned long ago from some drummer on the message board on the Tape Op site (a GREAT resource for MANY topics, I recommend trolling for anyone looking for technical knowledge about recording) that for appropriate sounding drums, one must hit the drums like you're angry, and hit the cymbals like you're sorry. Had I applied this long ago in a jam session with my buddy ChrisB and his friend Shawn, I would still have my Sabian AAXPlosion Crash. I miss it. :(
Stick control is a difficult concept for the beginning drummer to master. "What, you mean I can't hit the cymbals as loud as I want to?! But I've got anger to release, and adrenaline coursing through my veins! I'm a feral animal looking to lay siege to this circular shapen brass! My sticks are just extensions of my need to pound this beat into its own existence!!" When the tinnitus in your ears (and mine) stops ringing, listen here:
Cymbals and drums are completely different instruments. Drums have a low, hollow sound that hum when you strike them. Cymbals have a high, shimmery crash and then a ring out to them. The whole purpose for a cymbal "crash" is to infuse the song/musical piece with dynamics, punctuate patterns, add textures and voices. So when you're playing a groove and you want to indicate that the pattern will repeat, just wait and listen for the cymbal to bring you back around.
...but the hats. Oh, I can't help but feel the need to get all "aggro" when it comes to certain rock beats. Like "When The Levee Breaks" by Zeppelin... I just wanna HulkSmash that brass together!
To fix this, I'm thinking I'll have to work on something my friend Kit told me about. He said he learned it from Brain's video, "Shredding Repis On The Gnar Gnar Rad". How hard or soft one hits the drum is relative to the stick height. So when I lift my sticks up high off of the head, I WILL bring them back down hard again (as a factor of gravity, and my need to feel the groove), whereas if I barely let the tip of the stick hover over the head, I will not build any inertia when striking the drum again. Kit explained it in terms of degrees. Flex the wrist at 90 degrees, and you have quite a heavy stick hit, versus 45 degrees, the stick hit is not as loud.
I plan to use this in practice. Playing at a moderately fast tempo, and using 5 different stick heights to bring my stick to and simulate playing dynamically. I think first, I'll barely tap the head, trying to stay very quiet but also stay very even with the metronome. Then raise the relative stick height to about half an inch higher each "level" I get to. That way, I'm focused on how much control I can have.
But let's not stop there! I'll also try varying the levels of a double stroke. So the first exercise is for an alternating right-hand, left-hand pattern (open roll). This next exercise I'll use to vary the strokes when I'm hitting the drum twice with the same hand. This time, I'd start with a tempo I could play very relaxed with, and start with the stick height on the first stroke being higher, and then lowering it for the second stroke (and then alternate that to the other side). THEN, you switch which of those notes is the higher height.
Don't forget the feet! You'll want to make sure that your feet are at least keeping time. However, since I'm trying to incorporate more "double bass playing", I'll be working more to keep the alternating right-left-right-left pattern and keeping that going with my hands so I can build up the coordination (and cross-talk between contralateral movements and accenting). This IS a good exercise for the feet, though, and you can use your hands to do all of the time-keeping/alternating.
In thinking about my jazz patterns, (spang, spang-a-lang, spang-a-lang, spang-a-lang spang-a), I think it would be useful for me to develop my own progressive steps manual for that.
Trunk practice was yesterday, and it was great! I talk more about it tomorrow. I just wanted to get these thoughts out before I forgot.
Stick control is a difficult concept for the beginning drummer to master. "What, you mean I can't hit the cymbals as loud as I want to?! But I've got anger to release, and adrenaline coursing through my veins! I'm a feral animal looking to lay siege to this circular shapen brass! My sticks are just extensions of my need to pound this beat into its own existence!!" When the tinnitus in your ears (and mine) stops ringing, listen here:
Cymbals and drums are completely different instruments. Drums have a low, hollow sound that hum when you strike them. Cymbals have a high, shimmery crash and then a ring out to them. The whole purpose for a cymbal "crash" is to infuse the song/musical piece with dynamics, punctuate patterns, add textures and voices. So when you're playing a groove and you want to indicate that the pattern will repeat, just wait and listen for the cymbal to bring you back around.
...but the hats. Oh, I can't help but feel the need to get all "aggro" when it comes to certain rock beats. Like "When The Levee Breaks" by Zeppelin... I just wanna HulkSmash that brass together!
To fix this, I'm thinking I'll have to work on something my friend Kit told me about. He said he learned it from Brain's video, "Shredding Repis On The Gnar Gnar Rad". How hard or soft one hits the drum is relative to the stick height. So when I lift my sticks up high off of the head, I WILL bring them back down hard again (as a factor of gravity, and my need to feel the groove), whereas if I barely let the tip of the stick hover over the head, I will not build any inertia when striking the drum again. Kit explained it in terms of degrees. Flex the wrist at 90 degrees, and you have quite a heavy stick hit, versus 45 degrees, the stick hit is not as loud.
I plan to use this in practice. Playing at a moderately fast tempo, and using 5 different stick heights to bring my stick to and simulate playing dynamically. I think first, I'll barely tap the head, trying to stay very quiet but also stay very even with the metronome. Then raise the relative stick height to about half an inch higher each "level" I get to. That way, I'm focused on how much control I can have.
But let's not stop there! I'll also try varying the levels of a double stroke. So the first exercise is for an alternating right-hand, left-hand pattern (open roll). This next exercise I'll use to vary the strokes when I'm hitting the drum twice with the same hand. This time, I'd start with a tempo I could play very relaxed with, and start with the stick height on the first stroke being higher, and then lowering it for the second stroke (and then alternate that to the other side). THEN, you switch which of those notes is the higher height.
Don't forget the feet! You'll want to make sure that your feet are at least keeping time. However, since I'm trying to incorporate more "double bass playing", I'll be working more to keep the alternating right-left-right-left pattern and keeping that going with my hands so I can build up the coordination (and cross-talk between contralateral movements and accenting). This IS a good exercise for the feet, though, and you can use your hands to do all of the time-keeping/alternating.
In thinking about my jazz patterns, (spang, spang-a-lang, spang-a-lang, spang-a-lang spang-a), I think it would be useful for me to develop my own progressive steps manual for that.
Trunk practice was yesterday, and it was great! I talk more about it tomorrow. I just wanted to get these thoughts out before I forgot.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Split it up!!!
Yeeeah!
I don't know what made me think of Terry Bozzio after listening to some old Jon Theodore tracks from his "Golden" years. HAAAA!! I kill me! Get it? "Golden" years? Oh, get over yourselves!
I take it that my myopia is pretty evident, hopefully it doesn't outlast its welcome. I'm not anticipating having a JT fanboy-fest in each post, but I sincerely came up with some cool concepts to work on (if I can ever make time for my kit) while listening to Golden and Missing Persons. The idea I'm thinking of is having ordinary fills being expressed in not so ordinary ways. I'm thinking of your garden variety 4 note fill that is pretty standard in most rock songs I can think of. 1 - 2 - 3- 4 ee and uh Crash!
Well, imagine splitting those 16ths (4 ee and uh) into different hand-foot combinations (ok, let's see how well this comes out): (legend: rh = right hand, lh= left hand, rf = right foot, lf=left foot)
rh-rh-rf-lh, rh-rh-lh-lh, rh-rf-rh-lh, lh-rh-rh-rf, lh-rh-lh-lf... and other combinations. The reason that I use combinations in "right hand" or "left foot" versus playing to snare hits is so I'm not just hitting the same voice. If I can change up what I play (maybe not a single tom, but maybe like Kenneth Schalk, where I'm always changing up the notes during fills).
I don't know why Terry Bozzio made me think of this, (well, not in Missing Persons, per se). I guess because I don't see him as the type to just play 4 simple 16th notes as a fill an a crash (which is a cliched fill). I COULD see him playing that simple stuff, but throwing in these weird patterns to fulfill his own personal needs. Any man who creates a drum set-up that would allow him to play drums as notes and not just beats/rhythms would get bored with simplicity. Me? I guess it's just the caffeine that pushes the synapses to fire in different directions, like throwing water on a powered circuit board.
Serendipity! JT's odd patterns and voicings led me to think about throwing weird patterns in a very simple, tried-and-true fill... now if I can just get to a friggin' drumkit! I mean even a set of practice pads! Anything will work, as long as it's not the office desk that I've been banging my thumbs over. I'm sure my director (who shares the wall with me, and has asked me to turn down music before) is probably not very excited about my constantly working beats and patterns over and over again. Should I try to convince him that this is what happens when hospitals and institutions get me upset/angry?
Kit sent me back my recordings from our previous session. For having to work out some rust, the recordings came out great. They're not even rough drafts -- these are essentially my "click track" to what I will record in the very near future. I told Kit that I'd like to be able to work out the various fills in both songs, and smooth out the swing in "That Something". As of now, there isn't a whole lot of consistency in my kick pattern, and I'd like for all of the kick-snare hits to sound like they resemble each other throughout the song.
Sounds good? Sounds good.
I don't know what made me think of Terry Bozzio after listening to some old Jon Theodore tracks from his "Golden" years. HAAAA!! I kill me! Get it? "Golden" years? Oh, get over yourselves!
I take it that my myopia is pretty evident, hopefully it doesn't outlast its welcome. I'm not anticipating having a JT fanboy-fest in each post, but I sincerely came up with some cool concepts to work on (if I can ever make time for my kit) while listening to Golden and Missing Persons. The idea I'm thinking of is having ordinary fills being expressed in not so ordinary ways. I'm thinking of your garden variety 4 note fill that is pretty standard in most rock songs I can think of. 1 - 2 - 3- 4 ee and uh Crash!
Well, imagine splitting those 16ths (4 ee and uh) into different hand-foot combinations (ok, let's see how well this comes out): (legend: rh = right hand, lh= left hand, rf = right foot, lf=left foot)
rh-rh-rf-lh, rh-rh-lh-lh, rh-rf-rh-lh, lh-rh-rh-rf, lh-rh-lh-lf... and other combinations. The reason that I use combinations in "right hand" or "left foot" versus playing to snare hits is so I'm not just hitting the same voice. If I can change up what I play (maybe not a single tom, but maybe like Kenneth Schalk, where I'm always changing up the notes during fills).
I don't know why Terry Bozzio made me think of this, (well, not in Missing Persons, per se). I guess because I don't see him as the type to just play 4 simple 16th notes as a fill an a crash (which is a cliched fill). I COULD see him playing that simple stuff, but throwing in these weird patterns to fulfill his own personal needs. Any man who creates a drum set-up that would allow him to play drums as notes and not just beats/rhythms would get bored with simplicity. Me? I guess it's just the caffeine that pushes the synapses to fire in different directions, like throwing water on a powered circuit board.
Serendipity! JT's odd patterns and voicings led me to think about throwing weird patterns in a very simple, tried-and-true fill... now if I can just get to a friggin' drumkit! I mean even a set of practice pads! Anything will work, as long as it's not the office desk that I've been banging my thumbs over. I'm sure my director (who shares the wall with me, and has asked me to turn down music before) is probably not very excited about my constantly working beats and patterns over and over again. Should I try to convince him that this is what happens when hospitals and institutions get me upset/angry?
Kit sent me back my recordings from our previous session. For having to work out some rust, the recordings came out great. They're not even rough drafts -- these are essentially my "click track" to what I will record in the very near future. I told Kit that I'd like to be able to work out the various fills in both songs, and smooth out the swing in "That Something". As of now, there isn't a whole lot of consistency in my kick pattern, and I'd like for all of the kick-snare hits to sound like they resemble each other throughout the song.
Sounds good? Sounds good.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
There’s a lot to be said for being a music snob (especially having to justify many opinions). I guess that’s why I can spend so much time and energy punching little square tabs about organized sounds.
While everyone asks themselves just what in the hell am I talking about, if I say two words to drummers, they alone would stop wondering. The words: “Odd time”.
Though arguably made famous by Dave Brubeck Quartet’s “Take Five", bands like Rush, Dream Theater (a Rush influenced group), Pink Floyd and Tool reach into their bag of musical tricks in order to sprinkle seasoning (or come up with a truly wild concoction) on their songs. With Rush, songs featuring time signature changes like Natural Science, or (taken to a more extreme degree) Dream Theater’s Metropolis Pt. 1 (don’t get me started with Metropolis Pt. 2... I sometimes try to convince myself that I didn’t buy the album), you have bands that scatter these irregular beat patterns around their songs. With Pink Floyd’s “Money”, and Tool’s... well, most things Tool plays (I guess Danny gets bored), they use the irregular patterns to create regularity in randomness, while keeping a steady backbeat, the rest of the music dances around almost magically and at random.
To the lay-person, “odd time” is an alteration of the beat, pulse, or what I like to call, the “head-nod”. The nature of modern western music is cyclical, revolving around at a pace (tempo). There is the element of repetition which creates the air of familiarity to when we would hear the drum again (or guitar pattern). Odd time plays with that familiarity and either introduces an element of surprise (like in Rush or Dream Theater) or is primarily a means of providing texture (like heard in Tool’s The Grudge) to a revolving pattern that includes a non-normative amount of beats compared to contemporary pop music. So basically, it doesn’t sound normal.
But that’s not quite it, is it? I’ve have numerous conversations with Ryan about odd time feel, and whether or not it’s really necessary. Few bands can pull it off properly, but when the bands that can do, it’s almost seamless. Take a listen to “Everything In Its Right Place” by Radiohead. They make 10/4 sound natural (that’s 10 beat pulses before it rotates back to the beginning of the pattern).
Ok, so the reason this came up was because I had a conversation about why I love Jon Theodore’s playing so much. He’s brilliant in that his accents are outside normal convention. Then Thomas Pridgen came to mind. Most of the Mars Volta magic (as far as I’m concerned) left with Jon. Pridgen is an amazing, dexterous and capable (to say the least) drummer. However, his contributions (in my opinion) don’t carry the same weight as Jon’s does. As I was listening back to the Mars Volta albums that Pridgen plays on, I noticed that there was much play in the time signatures that the band was performing in. When listening, I got the sense that no matter how much I’d try to keep my head nodding in a time, I couldn’t keep it up.
This is where the “right” and “wrong” come into play. With Theodore, I felt that I never lost sense of where the strong pulses were supposed to be. Particularly when the beats got very complex (like “L’Via Vasquez”), I just know that my head would nod faster. Dream Theater is another example of times that I’ll lose the groove. “Metropolis pt. 1“ has all the tempo changes inside of the time signatures as well. I think it depends on my mood, but if I feel that I’m more in a mood to settle into hypnosis, changing the tempo and where the beats fall is the sure-fire way to pull me out of that mood real quick!
I originally meant to start this blog out as a comparison between Jon Theodore and Thomas Pridgen, but really, I think the broader picture should be “appropriate use of odd time signatures to create a sense of urgency or texture”. How would I incorporate this into my own songs? I have less interest in putting odd times in my songs. I like throwing accents around the beat, but in the times that I’ve tried to use the random time signatures in my songs, I before had gotten so involved in how cool the odd signature is, I lost the audience.
Anyways. Can you tell that I haven’t played drums in a while?? I’m starting to go stir crazy.
While everyone asks themselves just what in the hell am I talking about, if I say two words to drummers, they alone would stop wondering. The words: “Odd time”.
Though arguably made famous by Dave Brubeck Quartet’s “Take Five", bands like Rush, Dream Theater (a Rush influenced group), Pink Floyd and Tool reach into their bag of musical tricks in order to sprinkle seasoning (or come up with a truly wild concoction) on their songs. With Rush, songs featuring time signature changes like Natural Science, or (taken to a more extreme degree) Dream Theater’s Metropolis Pt. 1 (don’t get me started with Metropolis Pt. 2... I sometimes try to convince myself that I didn’t buy the album), you have bands that scatter these irregular beat patterns around their songs. With Pink Floyd’s “Money”, and Tool’s... well, most things Tool plays (I guess Danny gets bored), they use the irregular patterns to create regularity in randomness, while keeping a steady backbeat, the rest of the music dances around almost magically and at random.
To the lay-person, “odd time” is an alteration of the beat, pulse, or what I like to call, the “head-nod”. The nature of modern western music is cyclical, revolving around at a pace (tempo). There is the element of repetition which creates the air of familiarity to when we would hear the drum again (or guitar pattern). Odd time plays with that familiarity and either introduces an element of surprise (like in Rush or Dream Theater) or is primarily a means of providing texture (like heard in Tool’s The Grudge) to a revolving pattern that includes a non-normative amount of beats compared to contemporary pop music. So basically, it doesn’t sound normal.
But that’s not quite it, is it? I’ve have numerous conversations with Ryan about odd time feel, and whether or not it’s really necessary. Few bands can pull it off properly, but when the bands that can do, it’s almost seamless. Take a listen to “Everything In Its Right Place” by Radiohead. They make 10/4 sound natural (that’s 10 beat pulses before it rotates back to the beginning of the pattern).
Ok, so the reason this came up was because I had a conversation about why I love Jon Theodore’s playing so much. He’s brilliant in that his accents are outside normal convention. Then Thomas Pridgen came to mind. Most of the Mars Volta magic (as far as I’m concerned) left with Jon. Pridgen is an amazing, dexterous and capable (to say the least) drummer. However, his contributions (in my opinion) don’t carry the same weight as Jon’s does. As I was listening back to the Mars Volta albums that Pridgen plays on, I noticed that there was much play in the time signatures that the band was performing in. When listening, I got the sense that no matter how much I’d try to keep my head nodding in a time, I couldn’t keep it up.
This is where the “right” and “wrong” come into play. With Theodore, I felt that I never lost sense of where the strong pulses were supposed to be. Particularly when the beats got very complex (like “L’Via Vasquez”), I just know that my head would nod faster. Dream Theater is another example of times that I’ll lose the groove. “Metropolis pt. 1“ has all the tempo changes inside of the time signatures as well. I think it depends on my mood, but if I feel that I’m more in a mood to settle into hypnosis, changing the tempo and where the beats fall is the sure-fire way to pull me out of that mood real quick!
I originally meant to start this blog out as a comparison between Jon Theodore and Thomas Pridgen, but really, I think the broader picture should be “appropriate use of odd time signatures to create a sense of urgency or texture”. How would I incorporate this into my own songs? I have less interest in putting odd times in my songs. I like throwing accents around the beat, but in the times that I’ve tried to use the random time signatures in my songs, I before had gotten so involved in how cool the odd signature is, I lost the audience.
Anyways. Can you tell that I haven’t played drums in a while?? I’m starting to go stir crazy.
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