I’m pretty sure it was my age-out year of drum corps. I was walking across the gym at our housing site with my instructor/mentor/friend/boss, talking about… drums, probably… and we passed by one of my fellow snare players ramming beats on his pad. We asked him what he was doing and he said he was working on his chops.

In response I said, for the first time, “Remember: technique first, chops second.”

Technique, technique, technique. It’s important. Yes, chops are important, too, but without technique your chops will be useless if you hurt yourself.

If you look up “technique” at Dictionary.com, you’ll find the following definitions pulled from the Random House Dictionary:

1. the manner and ability with which an artist, writer, dancer, athlete, or the like employs the technical skills of a particular art or field of endeavor.
2. the body of specialized procedures and methods used in any specific field, esp. in an area of applied science.
3. method of performance; way of accomplishing.
4. technical skill; ability to apply procedures or methods so as to effect a desired result.

Okay, so let’s derive that technique is a specialized method by which something specialized is accomplished. Let’s specify this for drumming, shall we?

(Yes, you can also apply this to other disciplines)

Technique is a specialized method that helps to accomplish a specialized goal in a manner that allows the body to function naturally, with some modification, and promotes efficiency, fluidity, and prevents physical harm.

Several techniques exist for drummers and other percussionists to choose from, depending on what instrument they’re playing and what they want to accomplish. In my case, I developed a default technique that I use for general playing, but when needed I use another technique. The general technique I use is also the one I teach my students, and the reason I do is because I think it embodies the definition of “technique” that I presented above. As a teacher, my goal is to make sure my students learn to relax, play efficiently, and play in such a way where they don’t physically harm themselves. If they can learn to do these things, then drumming will be easier for them.

Learning and using bad technique will do the opposite; drumming will be difficult, consume a lot of energy, become a tense activity, and may cause detrimental pain that could have long term effects.

Now, let’s define “chops”. The closest thing I could find was on Dictionary.com’s pull from the American Heritage Dictionary:

Slang The technical skill with which a jazz or rock musician performs.

Meh.

In the drumline activity, at least where I’m from, I know that we use the term “chops” a little differently. “Chops” is certainly a slang term, and in my usage, it refers to speed and stamina as they pertain to muscle use. How fast one can play and for how long is an indication of having chops. And having chops is a good thing, of course. Without chops, a drummer is limited in how fast and how long they can play, obviously. Chops also aid in the betterment of technique. The more a drummer practices using a particular technique there will be an increase in the ability to use the technique more naturally as the muscles become used to the motions used.

Thus, a cycle is created: the better a drummer’s technique, the more speed and stamina will come as a result. As the muscles get exercised, chops will increase resulting in a boost in speed and stamina. As the chops increase, the technique used will be practiced, resulting in improved technique.

Now, let’s think about this. If a drummer has bad technique and continues to play and play, thus increasing their chops, and thereby getting better at using their bad technique, they’re basically increasing their muscle strength while supporting bad drumming habits. And, as mentioned before, bad technique can be detrimental to both playing and to the condition of the body.

Unlike the chicken-and-egg scenario, we know what comes first in the cycle: technique. When a beginner picks up drumsticks for the first time and attempts to drum, the way they hold their sticks and hit the drum or pad is, essentially, a form of technique. This is where the journey begins. Chops come from playing and practicing, and you can’t play drums without some form of technique, whether that technique is primitive and uneducated or refined.

Hence, technique first.

If the concept here is indeed cyclical, then why worry about it at all? If technique begets chops, which begets improved use of technique, then what does it matter as long as proper technique is used?

Young drummers should make sure that they actually DO emphasize the learning of good technique. This, of course, is part of the teacher’s job, making sure they are promoting good technique. However, young drummers should also know that the more they play, the better their chops will get. In the drumline activity, we do chops-busting things like hold rolls and accent patterns, but never, ever at the expense of technique. Chops will do then no good if they play with bad technique.

The moral of the story is: chops will come. Don’t worry about them. Good technique is the basis for everything physical. Concentrate on learning good technique and, I guarantee, the more you play, the more chops you’ll acquire.

“With great power there must also come great responsibility.”

-Ben Parker, from the pages of Amazing Fantasy 15

That’s right. I made a Spider-Man reference. Because it’s pertinent.

You, the drummer, are the final say when you perform with an ensemble. You are the final, deciding factor in how a piece feels, how comes across stylistically, how the tempo moves forward. That is great power you wield, power to either be abused or to use wisely. If abused, you may never play with others again. You may never be looked upon as a good musician. You may appear foolish.

Used wisely, and you may play with many, many other musicians. You may be called upon to write and perform percussion for those you may not know. You may be hailed as creative yet always serving the music.

Think about this: What if Dave Grohl had played a bossa nova behind “Smells Like Teen Spirit”? Or what if Neil Peart decided to play drum-corps-styled beats behind “Tom Sawyer”? Or what if Ringo decided he was going to play everything double time really, really hard behind “Ticket To Ride”?

What if the percussionists decided they were going to play a jazz waltz behind Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture”?

This isn’t to say that the other members of an ensemble don’t contribute to the presentation of the piece. Of course they do. Standard reggae wouldn’t be the same if the guitarist didn’t keep it minimal. Metal wouldn’t be the same without crunchy, distorted guitars. But once the drummer enters the fold, it doesn’t matter if the guitarist lays down some heavy, heavy, heavy, distorted power chords while the bassist propels the music forward by pumping out some low, steady, eighth notes. If the drummer behind them decides to lay down a one-drop reggae beat with some light eighth notes on the hi-hat and a bass drum accent on three, what once was probably going to be some heavy metal is now just really hard, grinding reggae.

Try this experiment: the next time you get together to jam with other musicians – say, a guitarist and bassist – pick a song to cover. Any cover. And play a different beat. Play a punk beat behind a classic rock ballad. Play a march behind a reggae tune. Play a country beat behind a hip-hop song. Then, have the guitarist switch styles while you play the appropriate parts. Have the bassist do the same. All of you will have a hand in changing the feel or the stylistic conveyance of the song, but who has the most impact? Odds are, it’s the drummer.

Perhaps it’s because drumming is so basic and primal that the music we create connects to the listener the quickest, or connects the best… or both. The music we create, while pitch certainly can be a factor, relies so much on rhythms and not necessarily melody to convey our thoughts and emotions that it allows us to send our messages directly to the listener. We have no lyrics to sing. We don’t have a catchy tune to leave our listeners humming when they leave the show. We are direct. Take out the four-on-the-floor beat behind a techno tune at a club and the vibe would probably die.

When musicians that play other instruments describe playing something in a percussive manner, they’re describing their attempt at creating that base, primal feel with a non-percussion instrument in order to connect with their listener on a more basic level. They understand that connection between drumming and the audience. They understand that playing percussively is what makes a head bob up and down, that makes a body want to dance.

It is a power that drummers wield. This power is something we need to understand before we play. Understanding this power can help us make good choices when deciding what our parts will be when writing a new song with a band; what our parts will be when writing battery music to accompany a horn line; what our parts will be when programming beats for a new club song.

Understand this power you wield, then go out into the world and use it wisely.

Last year, after a drumline rehearsal, one of the students was sitting on the floor practicing a piece of music. She wanted to audition for a snare spot pretty badly and her chances were incredibly slim. My friend, the caption head of this particular drumline, told her she basically had one chance to show him that she was worth giving a spot.

She’d asked me if I could help her after rehearsal sometime, so there I sat, watching her, knowing that I would soon interject with my brand of help.

She played through the piece, blundering rhythms and phrases here, there, and almost everywhere, got to the end, looked at the music, and before she could start again, I pounced.

I said something to the effect of, “I’m willing to bet that you’re going to start the piece over, right?”

She affirmed my suspicions.

I then asked, “I’m also willing to bet that that’s how you practice at home, too, right? You play through something and then, instead of working on the things you had trouble with, you play through the piece again, right?”

Another affirmation.

Not everyone practices this way, but I know that not all students have good practice habits. I very often tell drumlines that I work with to ask me or one of the other instructors if they have any questions about how to practice, and very rarely do I get asked. And then, when I see them at the next rehearsal without any sign of significant improvement, I have to wonder how these people are practicing.

Expanding on my last post, 5-Minute Hands, I figured it’d be a good idea to break down how someone might want to go about practicing so that those precious five minutes don’t go to waste.

First off, if you’re playing something and you don’t like it, take a mental note. If you want to finish what you’re playing, fine. If you want to stop and work on the thing you just took mental note of, fine. As long as you come back to your mental note, you’ve accomplished the first step:

1. Go back and fix the thing you don’t like!

If you’ve got a 16-bar passage that you’re trying to learn and you’re having trouble with bars 7 and 8, playing the entire piece over and over and over won’t help you iron out the difficulties with efficiency. Sure, with enough repetition, you may smooth out some of the kinks and be able to get through those difficult bars, but it will take a lot longer and your hands and head probably won’t understand them or play them as well as if you took the time to break them down. Figure out what it is you need to fix; Is your coordination wrong or off? Are you having trouble with the rhythms? Having trouble playing it up to tempo? Can’t play the rudiments required to play the phrase? Sound quality bad? If you have a problem to focus on, then you can attack it. This leads up to the second step:

2. Break it down!

After going back to your trouble spot, don’t just ram through the pattern. Once identifying what it is within the pattern or phrase you’re having trouble with, start by playing the passage slowly until you’re comfortable playing it, concentrating on fixing the problem(s) you’ve pinpointed. Once you’re comfortable, speed up the tempo.

3. Push it!

When speeding up the tempo of the pattern you’re breaking down, make sure to go past your comfort zone. Make sure when you speed it up, you utilize the correct techniques! Faster doesn’t mean get lazy. During faster tempos you will still want to use the same basic techniques as at the slower tempos, but perhaps with some adaptations (another article). In any case, everyone has a comfortable tempo they can play things at and pushing the tempo past that comfort zone makes you practice applying the things you’ve just worked on at a tempo you can’t play. If you’re working on a piece that needs to be played at a specified tempo, you will also want to speed up past that tempo. In either case, this will help you to eventually be able to play the pattern at faster tempos, which will benefit you in the long run. It also lets your body know what it’s like to play the pattern at this faster tempo with your current skills and what you might have to do to get the pattern playable at this speed – loosen up, put more or less pressure on the fulcrum, figure out how to make the basic techniques more comfortable to use when playing faster, etc. Plus, when you…

4. Slow it back down!

…to your comfort zone (or to the tempo at which the pattern or phrase is supposed to be played, depending on what you’re working on), you should notice how much easier it feels to play compared to the faster tempo. This is a great psychological and physical psyche-out. By comparison, things that are difficult suddenly don’t seem as hard, right? This also gives you a chance to relax your hands again after “stressing out” during the faster tempo (though you should have been attempting to relax as you increased the speed!).

5. It’s all about context!

Once you’ve become comfortable with the pattern or phrase you’ve just worked on, then you have to put it back into context. Take the measure or phrase before it to make sure you can make the transition. After a few reps, take the phrase before, the pattern or phrase you’ve just practiced, and the phrase after, making sure you can transition out of it. Not being able to make the transition means that you can play the pattern or phrase but only by itself, which is only half the battle as it is part of a larger whole. Do a few reps of this before going on to the next problem.

You might find that you have multiple problems with a single pattern or phrase, and that’s fine. You can choose to tackle all of the problems at once, if you’re experienced enough and can focus on several things at the same time, or you can tackle one at a time. The choice is yours, of course, as long as you find a way to actually focus on the problems and figure out a way to solve them. The method outlined here is a simple offering, and applies to most everything you learn how to play. If you find that taking extra steps or less steps works better for you, then great. Whatever will make you efficient. And yes, this method can be done in five minutes if you just pick one problem area to focus on.

The great thing about this method is that it’s applicable to anything you need to practice, whether it’s a four-bar phrase, two counts, or just a simple two-note coordination problem. For example, if you’re having trouble with single measure and, while breaking it down, find that you’re having trouble with a specific part of that measure, you can start the process over to work out the specifics of the problem within the larger passage. Have a paradiddle into two left one-handed flam accents into a flammed tap-seven? Is it the flam accents that are giving you trouble? Break down the left one-handed flam accents first, making sure you can play them comfortable, before taking the whole measure.

The method can be applied to matter how small or how great the problem. It can apply to a simple rudiment, an exercise, or a piece of music. It can apply to technique or musicality. It’s a universal method. And sticking to the method will help increase the efficiency in your practicing. As you get better and better as a drummer, you may find that each step takes less and less time because your experience and skill are lending a hand to your learning and working out new things.

Coming full circle, I remember trying to impress upon her the importance of good practicing. Since she was learning the music to audition for my friend, I thought it important to ask her: “Do you think he would rather see that you can get through the whole piece, mistakes and all, or do you think he wants to see that you’ve worked on the piece by playing what you can play well?”

I’m sure that most of us have read or listened to interviews with drummers that talk about how they used to “woodshed” for 8 hours a day, everyday. They loved the craft so much, and wanted to be so good, that they devoted themselves to such an intense practice schedule.

Good for them, I say.

However, I’m willing to bet that most of us can’t make that claim. Not that we don’t love the craft, and not that we don’t love drumming so much that we don’t want to practice. But really, several factors prevent most of us from taking on such a regimen: school, work, people, short attention span, easily bored… Any one or a combination of those factors prevent the majority from sacrificing the rest of our lives in order to practice, practice, practice.

Some drummers, unfortunately, are worse; they don’t practice enough. I know that, having taught for 14-plus years, most of my students fit that mold.

As a teacher, it’s part of my job to find a way to inspire my students to practice. One such method involves a 5-minute practice schedule.

That’s right. I said, “5-minute practice schedule.”

One of my favorite stories to tell students is that I learned how to play flam stutters in 5 minutes. I sat down in front of the TV one night and, during a commercial break, I broke down flam stutters, starting slowly to get the coordination down and then gradually speeding up to a medium-slow tempo. As a result, flam stutters were no longer a mystery and all I needed to do from that point on was to continue playing them until the rudiment was committed to muscle memory.

The most important thing about practicing isn’t necessarily how long you practice, but how well you practice. Practicing for 8 hours a day isn’t going to help much if all you do is sit there and mindlessly drum, not really working on anything. Think about what most drummers might do if they sat down at a drumset or a pad for 8 hours. They might play one thing for a little while, then move on to something else because it gets boring, then another, then another, all the while not really thinking about what it is they’re doing; not noticing the things they don’t like and need to work on; not determining if they’re being consistent while playing repetitive patterns; not concentrating on keeping a good tempo; not focusing on good technique; not playing well…

Playing for long periods of time will certainly help any drummer just through the physical act of drumming, which can help increase stamina and coordination through sheer repetition, but it is important to focus on what it is you’re playing and making sure it sounds and feels the way you want it to as opposed to playing just for the sake of playing.

The 5-minute practice schedule encourages students to pick one thing they need to work on – a rudiment, a pattern, a phrase, a tempo issue, chops – and then focus on that one thing for 5 minutes. It should be easy to find 5 minutes in a day to drum. When they get home from school, do they eat a snack before they do their homework? They should drum for 5 minutes when they’re done. Do they normally go to bed at 10:00 PM? Then they should go to bed at 10:05 PM.

When I talk about practicing to my students, I tell them how they can practice 30 minutes a day, everyday, if they use this method. A particular example would be:

• Get up in the morning, get ready, and head off to school. Once at school, pick one thing and drum for 5 minutes
• During lunch, drum for 5 minutes before heading to class
• Get home and, before doing homework, drum for 5 minutes
• Take a break from homework. Drum for 5 minutes
• Eat dinner, then drum for 5 minutes
• Drum for 5 minutes before going to bed

That scenario outlines 6 instances of drumming for 5 minutes. At the end of the day, they’ve practiced for at least 30 minutes. If they focused on one thing for each of those 5 minutes, whether it’s the same thing or something different each time, then that’s 30 minutes of focused practice.

I know this doesn’t really promote long-term focusing, but this method at least encourages the student to find and make time to practice. And the beauty of this method is this: if the student really loves to drum, really loves the physical act of drumming, they just might end up drumming for more than 5 minutes at a time.

For years now, I have wanted to write a book on drumming. I have, in fact, started one and it has been in the process of being written for, oh… I have no idea how long. At least since 2002.

The problem is, I continued to learn new things since I started jotting down notes that it’s hard for me to say, “Yup, this should be included in the book.” And every time I revisit the book, I keep finding new ways to refine or change what I’ve written. Not to mention the fact that whatever it is I write, I rethink, re-experiment, re-evaluate, and re-analyze what I’ve written because if I’m going to write it down, I want it to be as accurate and clear as possible.

Too anal, I guess.

So, I’ve started this blog. I will still keep working on the book. However, at least with this blog, I can offer my ideas regarding the art and craft of drumming and the blog will evolve with me as I continue to improve as both a drummer and an educator. The idea of “Conceptual Drumming” is to examine what it is we drummers do and try to figure out why we do it; to figure out ways to drum better; to approach the art and craft of drumming better; to learn how to teach better; to learn how drumming relates to the rest of our lives. These are the things I’ve wanted to write about but, alas… my anal retentive, over-analytical nature has gotten in the way of completion.

My flaw as a writer of things drum-related, however, brings me to my first online lesson:

Teachers – no matter what you are teaching, when you convey your lessons make sure that you are conveying it as a near-universal truth. In other words, there are almost always going to be exceptions to the rules you’re teaching, but it is vitally important to say what you mean and mean what you say.

I have encountered many drum instructors that say one thing in their instruction, but they mean something different or they don’t demonstrate the lesson they’re giving. For instance, if you tell your student to use all fingers during a legato stroke exercise, that isn’t universally true. You can’t use “all fingers,” because your fingers alone won’t lift the stick up for the upstroke. An example consisting of a minor detail, sure, but students that are eager to learn and try to utilize the information you’re giving them take the information home to practice (hopefully) so that they can learn to put it to use. Giving them information that isn’t necessarily true, or information whereby you did not say what you mean, can only serve to potentially confuse the student.

As students go on to learn from other people, they will be introduced to different methods, different perspectives, and different techniques. Provided there’s a logic to each thing being taught, they’re all valid. However, students will eventually have to decide what methods, perspectives, and techniques are right for them depending on their situation(s), and in order to make smart decision, the information they are given needs to be accurate.

I’m sure this all goes without saying, but I’ve encountered plenty of situations where the instruction just isn’t accurate. It doesn’t matter if I agree or disagree with the method, perspective, or technique in question. I want accurate logic and an accurate explanation of the lesson. I’ve talked to too many students and felt the need to give them this advice: When you’re given a lesson, figure out if the instructor is saying what they mean or saying one thing while meaning another. Use your discretion to figure out if the instruction is accurate and helpful.

We’re drummers, right? If we’re striving for accuracy in our drumming, we should also be striving for accuracy in our instruction.