I don’t get to play drum set much these days, though I really want to. That’s the problem with living in a condo: can’t be loud (tell that to some of my neighbors, though). But when I do, I try to take advantage of the situation by playing the drum set-related things I don’t always get to play.

I have a double bass pedal. I became interested in double bass because of drummers like Tim Alexander (Primus), Neil Peart (Rush), and Terry Bozzio (soloist). The double bass pedal and a drum bass drum setup carry a bit of a stigmata because of genres such as speed metal where, as Neil Peart likes to call them, “double bass drum onslaughts” deliver a continuous stream of consecutive beats like 16th notes, sextuplets, etc. But the aforementioned drummers demonstrated that playing a double bass pedal could be so much more.

Recently I played a gig for a friend’s birthday show. I decided to bring my own pedals and, just for kicks (no pun intended), I set up the double pedal. My friend, who is an incredible drum set player, comes from the school that considers playing double bass cheating (the other stigmata). In the last few years, his view on playing double bass has evolved and he understands why someone would want to play double bass. Not one to pass up a humorous opportunity, he and the other guy we were rehearsing with decided to give me a hard time for setting up the pedals.

This got me thinking about why drummers would consider playing a double bass setup cheating. Shouldn’t we be able play double and triple strokes on one foot? Shouldn’t we be able to combine those multiple strokes into linear patterns with our hands? Yes, definitely. Being able to do so demonstrates agility and technique. But playing double bass is more than just playing doubles and triples rapidly in a short amount of space.

Even intensity
With a double or triple stroke on a single pedal, the evenness of the beats can get sacrificed, starting with the first beat. For example, in a triple stroke, the first and second beats are typically less even than the last beat since it’s the last beat where the foot comes down to conclude the triple stroke. This happens a little less with a double stroke, as there are less beats subjected to the downward momentum of the foot, but the first beat can typically be played with a bit less intensity than the second.

Using a double pedal means that each beat can be played with even intensity.

Now, the question was posed to me: if you’re good, could all the beats using a single pedal be even? And the answer is: yes, if you’re good, theoretically you can play all even beats in a double and triple stroke using a single pedal. Keep in mind, however, the downward motion of the foot towards the pedal as it progresses through the stroke means that it can come down on pedal harder with each beat. This, of course, depends on your technique: are you playing heel up or down? Are you keeping the foot up until the final beat? Are you letting your foot climb the foot board during the stroke? Your single pedal technique will obviously factor into how even the beats are in double and triple strokes (and, if you’re really good, quadruple strokes!). Remember that not only do you have to work on the foot technique, but the technique must remain present once you add the other limbs, so you must factor independence and body balance into the equation.

In any case, if you can turn theory into actuality, why play double bass? If you can play even multiple-stroke patterns with a single pedal, why bother with two feet? This leads us to:

Feel
The way we feel while we keep time is the manner in which we will keep time. If we feel sluggish, our time will be sluggish. If we feel frantic, our time will feel frantic.

This also pertains to the physical aspect of what we play as well. To play hand-to-hand 16th notes feels different than playing 16th note paradiddles. To play an accent on one hand and a tap on the other feels different than playing an accent then a tap on the same hand.

Being able to play a double or triplet stroke using a single pedal does not have the same feel as playing the double or triple between the two feet, both alone and when combined with the hands. Dividing patterns up between the two feet and legs divides the energy used between them as opposed to concentrating the energy in a single limb. This can result in a much freer, relaxed sensation while playing. Using a single pedal is, from my analysis and experience, more aggressive due to the concentration of energy in that single limb. The single pedal can also be more efficient in terms of freeing up the other foot to play other things, such as the hi-hat or other pedaled instruments, and to use more complex rhythms, ie. Latin claves. Yes, you can use the other foot to play other pedaled instruments while simultaneously playing double bass (pedaling both pedals at once, or alternating between them), but you’re relegated to playing in between bass hits or in unison with bass hits, which can be complex enough to coordinate without playing complex rhythms. This isn’t to say complex rhythms can’t be played on another pedal while simulaneously playing double bass, but it is a whole other mode of independent coordination to practice.

Patterns
I think it’s pretty self-evident: aside from multiple stroke pickups, like a double 32nd note bass drum pickup into a crash on 1, longer rhythmic patterns can be played with the feet while keeping a constant groove with the hands. Of, if you’re more adventurous (and more coordinated), a double bass ostinato can be played while playing different hand patterns over the top.

Then, of course, there are linear patterns to be played in combination with the hands. A fast, 2-count quintuplet ditty like hand-hand-foot-foot-foot-hand-hand-hand-foot-foot can be played both with a single or double pedal. But the body also uses energy differently and balances differently in both situations, and or course the coordination between your limbs will be different, so ultimately it will come down to how you, the drummer, want to feel while playing such a pattern.

Play double bass patterns in unison with crash, china, or effect cymbals results in sharp, metallic stabs with a nice, bass “oomf” underneath. Intersperse these with snare or tom patterns and you create floating suspense in the middle of your fills or contrasting parts of a melody. Listen to Terry Bozzio, who makes great use of this technique.

Increase the ability of the weaker foot
Most drummers are right-footed. Want to increase the strength, agility, and coordination of your left foot? Play double bass! Left-footed instead? Play double bass! Work that right foot!

Yes, yes… I know. Making sure you’re working that hi-hat, or practicing those Afro-Cuban or Latin claves, will also get your left foot working. But the thing about double bass is that you’re using your weaker foot in very close to the same manner as your stronger foot – the one you usually play your bass drum with; it won’t be exactly the same unless you use your weaker foot instead of your stronger foot to play main bass drum patterns. The bass drum pedal requires a different set of techniques than a hi-hat pedal, so to use your weaker foot in the same manner as your stronger foot on a bass drum pedal means developing the same type of agility and strength as your regular bass foot. Using the hi-hat pedal requires a different type of finesse and control. Adding bass drum technique to the foot you’d normally play your hi-hat with only increases what that foot is able to do.

There’s more to double bass than a barrage of 16th or 32nd “onslaughts”. And there’s more to double bass than “cheating”. It’s a tool, and it’s there to be used in whatever manner you choose to use it. If you don’t want to be creative, that’s your choice. If you want to experiment with what the tool can do, then go for it.

But to dismiss the double bass just because you’ve got mad single pedal chops? First, consider the above points. Second, open your mind and ask yourself, “What if my other foot had the same chops?”

Think about what doors you can open for yourself in that situation.

On March 27, 2010, the Northern California Band Association (NCBA) held championships at Foothill High School in Pleasanton, CA.

And I was pissed for much of the day.

I always let my drumlines know that, at least for me, drumline isn’t just about drumming. It’s about class and responsibility, amongst other things. If a drumline has no class, if they act like rude, obnoxious idiots, I pretty much refuse to watch them. This falls in line with a philosophy I spout to every group–drumline or otherwise–I teach:

Make people want to watch you without playing a single note.

I think this is incredibly important. A musician should prove to be reliable, professional, and courteous when dealing with other musicians and his or her audience. Those traits can go a long way in both getting work and gaining a bigger audience. Acting rudely is not impressive, whereas acting with grace is impressive. Why? The former leaves a bad impression while the latter leaves a good impression. It’s that simple.

Unfortunately, at the Foothill show (no fault of Foothill, mind you), I contended with rude instructors and drumlines for much of the day.

Let’s take the parking lot, for example. If there’s plenty of room in the parking lot, don’t set up a mere yard or two away from another drumline if they were in that spot first! I cannot tell you how many times that has happened to my group this season, and from the same drumline, too. Yes, parking lot space can be tight, but unless you absolutely have to, you should set up in as isolated a spot as possible. As space gets tighter, then I understand a close setup, but in my experience space rarely gets so tight that extremely close proximity is necessary. Parking lots are already plenty loud without having an ensemble within arm’s reach playing right next to another. It’s rude. And rude instructors are responsible for this.

If you’re a drumline member, don’t walk around wearing group apparel or uniform, or handling your equipment, screaming and shouting like a two-year-old, and don’t cuss. Save that for the bus. Save that for the after party. Just don’t do it smack dab in the middle of the parking lot where everyone else can see you. Don’t do it when walking from one place to another: the lot to the competition area; the bus to the warm-up area. It shows a lack of class and disrespect for both the group and the people involved in helping the group operate. In the case of a school, it’s also disrespectful to the school.

Don’t walk through another drumline’s equipment or rehearsal area, especially when things are clearly sectioned off. For instance, if a drumline has laid out their floor (large tarp used for performing indoor shows), don’t walk on it! This has happened to my drumlines as well as others. It’s happened to colorguards. I heard that, during the Foothill show, even though the announcer asked the audience not to walk across the floor of the colorguard setting up for their performance, people did anyway, including a performing member from another group who allegedly ran across the floor to get to the other side of the gym. This is extremely disrespectful. It shows a lack of acknowledgment of another group’s space and the fact that they are working. In addition, walking through someone else’s equipment is cause for accidental damage.

It is the instructors that let this happen, either by allowing it, causing it, or not instilling in their members a sense of class and respect. Sometimes–maybe more often than not–it’s all three. And this is sad because these are the instructors that set the bad example for their members, members who may want to go on to become instructors themselves someday. It is these instructors that teach their members how to lead by their disrespectful example. It is these instructors that cause future instructors to teach others how to act in the same manner.

Everyone makes mistakes. I have made mistakes. In fact, at Foothill, the rudeness got to me and I vocalized my discontent to no one in particular (let’s leave it at that). I have apologized for that. But when instructors and drumlines make the same mistakes over and over, they can no longer be labeled mistakes. At that point, it’s just habit. I can forgive mistakes. I cannot forgive bad habits.

It makes me sad that my group, and a few others, are subjected to rudeness and a lack of class and respect because other drumlines care more about the drumming aspect of the activity and not the other aspects. This activity is more than that, and the lessons learned in this activity carry over to other aspects of life. For example, we often hear testimony of drum corps alumni that say they learned to work hard because of drum corps. But there are other lessons to be taught by instructors and learned by members. Working hard is a great trait, but I’m not sure many people want a hard working ass unless they need one to pull a carriage.

I apologize for the absence. I have a lot to blog about, but things have been pretty hectic lately, schedule-wise. Not an excuse, just a reason.

See, it’s indoor percussion competition season for me, and late February and all of March has been full of late rehearsals and busy, tiring weekends. West Campus, my only competitive school this year, has been putting together a very unique show (ever seen a drumline eat someone before?), and each week the goal was to have a different ending. There are technical, musical, visual, and overall design issues that need to be addressed, not to mention trying to make sure the abilities of the members continue to increase.

What makes the show unique isn’t just the shock value (did I mention eating someone during the show? I did? Alright, then). The caption head, Noah Clark, came up with an idea of doing a story-driven show about surviving in a deserted winter environment. There is a beginning, middle, and end to the story, with lots of acting.

That is the unique aspect of the show.

Most indoor percussion shows that I have seen in the past few years at the WGI level have been 6-minute drum feature, done in the vain of drum corps field shows. And that saddens me. Not that all indoor percussion shows have to have a story. In fact, done right, a simple theme and some visual interpretation of the music can make for a very good show. The problem is, a lot of the WGI shows consist of music that sounds like incidental score music for a movie, interspersed with several battery features.

Intro. Snare feature. Pit chords and runs. Tenor feature. Odd pit melody. Bass feature. Pit build. Battery impact. Ensemble music leading into the next snare feature. Etc.

You get the idea, right?

The problem with this is that it isn’t interesting to listen to or watch. When a show theme is present, say, medieval times, or “gone”, or computers, the theme is usually turned into a one-note gimmick that doesn’t get expanded on or developed. Instead, the audience is given several, similar reminders of the theme through the show to the point where the show repeats itself until the end. All set to forgettable (in many cases) music.

This isn’t the case for all shows. In fact, there are several non-WGI high school groups that have been trying to do interesting things in their shows. Not all are successful, but A for effort.

When putting together an indoor percussion show, I try to stick to some guidelines. Here are a relevant few:

1. It’s a show set to music, so the music had better be memorable, interesting, and captivating.
2. The show shouldn’t be repetitive. Motifs are one thing, but when the audience feels like they’re watching the same segment over and over for 6 minutes, it’s time to rethink the development of the show.
3. It’s not a frickin’ drum feature! If the show is an excuse to show off tricky licks and the monster chops of the line instead of the music and and its visual interpretation, then the show isn’t a show, it’s a drumline feature. This isn’t to say that the show can have those things, but unless the show is entitled, “Show Offs”, then it’s music first, cool licks second.
4. Never be afraid to experiment.

Noah pointed out that the talent and ability of present day drummers has come a long way since I first did a winter show (1994, folks. I have some students that were born that year). Unfortunately, show design hasn’t evolved into anything spectacular (don’t even get me started on electronics). Shows that are essentially field features don’t necessarily teach the members to be good musicians, just drummers with monster chops. And while chops are a good thing, they’re useless unless they are used to express via music.

A little Op/Ed piece, since I just had a drum corps weekend and witnessed quite a few things, both good and bad.

This particular piece of writing is going to touch on the rising trend of electronics in drum corps and, for that matter, indoor percussion ensembles.

First, let me get this off my chest in an impolite manner: I hate electronic instruments in drum corps and indoor percussion.

*ahem*

Before anyone says that I’m just an old curmudgeon that can’t stand change, let me say that that assessment would be wrong. I’m fine with change. I like evolution. But a medium is a medium because of how it is defined, and one way to define a medium is to acknowledge its boundaries.

To me, drum corps is acoustic. There are no electronics involved. When I listen to drum corps music, I want to hear horns and percussion. That’s it. I want to hear a great hornline rip my face off with a bigger-than-life sound. I want to hear a battery play creative, clean, fun beats with an attitude. I want to hear mallet percussion performed with agility and musicality. I want to hear auxiliary percussion contribute nuance and color.

What I don’t want to hear is a mandolin sound. I don’t want to hear samples of a storm or the wind blowing. I don’t want to hear a piano. And while we’re at it, I don’t want to hear an electric guitar or bass in a drum corps, marching band, or indoor percussion ensemble, either.

The full name of the drum corps activity is Drum and Bugle Corps. I don’t see the words “piano”, “synthesizer”, “violin”, or other such descriptors in the name. Any other sound is just out of place and, instead of a drum and bugle corps, you get a musical ensemble that is basically comparable to any mixed ensemble: a big band, an orchestra, a pop band. Without these boundaries, the medium becomes something other than drum and bugle corps. Same thing with marching band (all wind instruments and percussion) and indoor percussion.

And let me get in a quick word about indoor percussion. An indoor percussion ensemble should be a percussion ensemble, right? A synthesizer and an electric guitar or bass are NOT percussion instruments. So why are they allowed in a percussion ensemble? That’s like saying it’s okay to have strings in a wind ensemble, or brass in a woodwind sextet.

The great thing about any medium’s boundaries is that they force practitioners to be creative within those boundaries. In drum corps, you don’t get to use a piano, you have to use a marimba, xylophone, vibraphone, or other some such keyboard to convey what you want. You have to use the musical and tonal properties of those instruments to convey something piano-esque, if that’s what you’re after.

Succumbing to the use of outside sounds through the use of electronics basically means that the show designers can’t creatively use the instruments that define the medium in such a way to get the results they want. They have to resort to outside sounds, and this is the sign of giving up. This is a sign that says the medium should become another medium because the show designers cannot work within the medium as it is defined.

As far as sound effects, it’s ridiculous that show designers need to use synthesizers to produce sounds of a thunder storm. Me? I would use concert bass drums, sheets of metal, and cymbals. Need to add sounds of rain? That’s what rain sticks and ocean drums are for!

The great thing about music is that it’s abstract. Despite what we’ve been told since childhood, music is a language but it isn’t a universal language. Each person will receive a different communique from a piece of music because it is an abstract artform. Music relies on emotion and mimicry to convey a message. And while I think it’s great to be able to use samples in mixed music formats, such as pop music, the marching activity has always been an acoustic musical activity. I think the acoustic concept is important to reiterate as we talk about music as an abstract medium. Drum corps and marching band have always been acoustic musical activities. They’re basic and primal and rely on acoustic instruments to convey impressions with which the listener can associate. When a trumpet whinnies like a horse, it may sound like a trumpet, but the listener knows it’s mimicking a horse. When a bass drum pumps out a faint bum-bump, bum-bump pattern, the listener associates that with a heartbeat. It is this quality that I appreciate about drum corps.

It is a sad day when electronic instruments become the norm in drum corps. Marching band and indoor percussion are already plagued by them. I would hate to see drum corps rely on such a crutch. I want to see evolution and creativity, but I want to see those things within the boundaries that define the medium. I don’t want to see drum corps turned into something it isn’t. Push the boundaries, but don’t redefine them. A truly creative person can be so within those boundaries.