The Drum Theorist's Blog

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.

I got out of the car about 7:30 last night and heard someone playing his drum set.

Oh… we live in a condo, by the way.

It didn’t bother my wife and me because we live on the other end of the building so we didn’t really hear it unless we were actually listening for it, but I do remember feeling very sorry and angry for their upstairs neighbor (so I guess it did bother me).

While this drummer is actually pretty decent, he’s giving drummers a bad name. Many people think that the drums are cool and that drummers themselves are cool, but only during a performance or conversation. Any other time, people find us annoying. We drum on everything: shopping carts, the desk, the table, our laps… And then there’s practicing: the tick-tick-tick on the drum pad, the loud sound of the drums… it’s rare that I can drum on my drum pad at home without my wife asking if I’m going to stop soon.

We are annoying musicians to most. And the guy playing a drum set in a multi-dwelling building is a rude contributor to that. But, he’s also one of the inspirations behind this post.

There is no reason why he needs to drum on his kit, really. Yes, playing on your instrument of choice will help you to become more familiar with how that instrument feels, how to handle it, how to manipulate it, etc. But the drums are unique in that all you really need is a pair of sticks (and sometimes not even that). You pretty much need a saxophone to learn how to play the saxophone. Same with a violin, cello, trombone, etc. But drummers can learn how to play the drums with nothing but a pair of sticks and a surface to play on.

The other inspiration behind this post is a particular group of high school kids that just don’t understand this concept.

Back in February, at one of my high schools, several of the students got very, very disappointed when I told them we wouldn’t be using drums for at least two months. A deep sigh emanated from their breaths and all I could say was, “You don’t need to play on a drum to be a drummer.”

A good drummer should be able to sound good on a drum pad. If you sound good on a drum pad, chances are you’ll sound pretty decent on a drum. If you sound horrible on a drum pad, you are most definitely going to sound ten times worse on a drum. Everything becomes amplified: all the mistakes, the bad attacks, the lack of control… the rule of thumb is if you can’t play it well on a pad, it will sound worse on a drum.

In the end, if a drummer really loves the act of drumming, it shouldn’t matter if they’re playing on a drum or a tin can. The physical act of drumming should be fun, no matter the playing surface. Indeed, playing on a drum is fun, and it’s certainly educational, but time has taught me that a pair of sticks and a surface that can tolerate a beating is also just as fun if I’m playing well.

Plus, I can play in my condo without bugging the neighbors.

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?”