Moshkiae


Hi,

Actually I sometimes think that the comment at the top has merit, even though many here will probably disagree with me and not like this reply!

You only have to listen a few times to Jaki Liebzeit, or Mani Neumeier, or a Pierre Moerlin and then sit back a little ... and go ... yeah ... the majority of drummers can not get off the 4th beat thing with their snare drum!

See if you can sit through Bel Air by Can .. and concentrate strictly on the drums ... so you can have an idea what "adding" to the music really means ... or the side 2 of "Soon Over Babbalooma" leading into the song Quantuum Physics ... the only problem being that 99 out of 100 of folks here are going to complaint about my comments instead of checking out the examples!

There is a lot more to music than keeping time. And the good ones did way more than just keep time. But with the state of the music today, so controlled by DAW's and stuff, it's really hard to find a drummer that can do something special to the music ... almost all of them are strict time keepers ... and they can only do their flaring bits during 4 beats every 7000000000000.wqe;fojsgljsd343414 beats because ... they do not know anything else and have not heard anything else.

The really good drummers don't have to advertise the 4th beat and they spend their time blending the music and the drums into the music ... the rest ... 90% of their work is keeping time! ... you know how much talent that takes? Yeah ... metronomes go for 20 bux! and they don't talk back!

It's probably good that he/she went after all those items ... gonna need them to color the music some since the person demanding it is not intelligent enough to help define the color ... just **** about it!

Eh?

Unfortunately, my drummer joke is a true story.

Around 1986, we had a drummer with a substance abuse problem. He liked to do coke, and if he did it during a gig, he naturally had timing issues. I warned him if he did it again, he was fired.

So one night we are playing a club gig in Phoenix, Arizona. Its about 110 degrees outside, and hotter in the club. He scores some coke, but does the smart thing and puts it in his rear pocket before the last set, to "save" it for after the gig. About 7 songs into the set, he begins having problems controlling his feet. Kick drum getting loose and can't close the hi-hat. I'm looking at him, and he's looking scared. In the middle of the 8th song, he falls right off the throne, and begins yelling "I'm paralyzed...I can't feel my legs!" The coke had melted from the sweat, and numbed him from the ass down. We didn't realize what happened til he rolled over, and we saw the white stain on his black pants, as he's draggin himself around the stage. The club owner wasn't nearly as amused as we were.

Randy