“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.