Whenever I joined a new band there was always that period of time when I had to learn their material before, during and after the first several gigs. Those are times you really have to be paying extra attention and on your toes. It’s work. This isn’t about that, but something very similar. More on my approach to that in a later blog post.
What’s significantly more stressful, in my opinion, is sitting in with a band because their regular drummer can’t make it to a show. I’ve sat in with bands many times over the years under such circumstances. It’s a great way to hone your skills, that’s for sure, but I found it incredibly nerve racking as well. These were the hardest jobs I ever had and at one point I just sort of quit doing them. It wasn’t worth it. However, I did it enough to learn a lot.
One of the last shows I ever did was with two very dear friends who asked me to be the drummer with them as we made up the core band for an open mic night. We would totally be “winging it.” But I trusted them and they trusted me, so it was really a joy to be playing with them. No set list. The guitar player just calling out songs he knew and sometimes just starting a song. Go! Ok. I’ve got this.
One drummer played that night. I remember he came up and complained about the way I had arranged the kit to make more of a tight jazz set up, having removed one of the two mounted toms. Then he put his head down and just started pounding. Twenty seconds in he looked up and gestured for my band mates to join him for… who knows what. I think they started playing some 3-chord jam and off they went. This isn’t about that either.
When I got back on stage, an older, rather distinguished gentleman came up wearing a cowboy hat, cowboy boots and holding an acoustic guitar. I think one of my band mates knew him, sort of. But, I didn’t. He started playing an original song that was very rubber band like in the beginning. No tempo. Just strums and words to a story. I sat there patiently and quiet. I watched his arms from the back, waiting for some clue as to a tempo or rhythm. Was this going to be 4/4 or a waltz maybe? Rim shot? Brushes? I didn’t know. I was ready and listening intently. I found a couple of spots to tap lightly on my ride cymbal to highlight some twinkling lyric in his story. And then I saw his strumming arm begin to do 1, 2, 3 steady up and down strums in a row. Then a 4th in perfect time with the first 3. By the next down beat I came in with a subtle, but confident boom/chick, rim shot rhythm. And off we went. Medium tempo, 4/4 country song about love and a dog, and an old farm house. Or something like that. Then, a few minutes later I heard him start to wind down, back to a similar feel as the beginning of the song and I slowed with him and subtly dropped out. He wrapped up his story, strummed his guitar one last time while I added a light crescendo on a cymbal and, as if rehearsed, the song had its ending. The audience loved it.
He kindly thanked everyone and then turned to look directly at me. And in a manner that everyone could hear he said enthusiastically, “I want to play with this guy!”
“When improvising on the drums it’s better to come in late and be right, then to come in early and be wrong.”
~ Mike
After 30 years of playing in all sorts of situations, that was one moment I will never forget. I will cherish that memory for the rest of my life. I even thought maybe I could play with that guy again sometime. So, a few months later I asked my friend if he knew what he might be up to these days. I asked If he was still in the area and maybe playing somewhere. My friend informed me that he had since passed away.
I hope this story doesn’t come across as bragging on myself. That’s not the point. After all, I’m not THAT good of a drummer. Seriously. (I’m reminded of another story where I really botched it) But, after all I’ve ever done I was happiest to pull off something like this in a manner that made that singer/songwriter, the audience, and my band mates happy that I was on the drums that night.
This is the gift I was given. Not that I knew my instrument technically all that well, but that I had this sense of rhythm, emotion, and story that makes up music. To me, music is about patience as much as it is the first downbeat and off to the races you go. It waits when it needs to wait. And it strikes when the mood says strike! Mmmmm… Music.
Medium volume cymbal crescendo and out.
~ Mike