It's Over...

Last night, I had my final performance as the drummer for Mule Shoe. I decided there would be no better thing to do in the situation except consume a lot of alcohol, and have the best damn time I could.

I figured things would get awkward between the guys in the band and I, but that didn't happen. We played awesome this weekend. The band was very tight, and the crowd loved the music we played.

I ended up not getting quite as drunk as I planned. I still managed to put down 7 Rye and a couple shooters, but by the end of the night, I didn't have that much of a buzz. That's the physical exertion and the adrenaline talking. You sweat like a pig when you are on-stage, and whatever you put in your system just comes out your pores. By the end of the night, I was covered head to toe in perspiration. The Mule Shoe gig was a big test on my endurance -- it's not unlike running a marathon.

And yes, I did learn a few things from the Mule Shoe gig. Every band a musician plays with, should be able to take something new home from the experience. I played grooves that I never have attempted live. I pushed the limits of my 4-limb coordination and independence -- I even played a drum solo every night, which expanded my creativity (this is coming from a drummer who refuses to play drum solos). I learned a few things about endurance, playing hard, and hitting with consistency. Hitting hard is not a style of drumming I have been accustomed to for about 4 years, but it isn't as easy as it looks... It's hard on the equipment, on the mind, and on the body.

Conversely, I am the sort of drummer who likes to play with a "finesse" of sorts. I argue: Let the PA do the work. Dynamics play such an important role in music, and it is the most often overlooked aspect of popular music. Playing dynamically can add so much to a groove or a feel that it can take music to a whole new level. When I hit hard, I lose about 15% of my technique. I can't play as fast, nor as long, as I can when I play within my normal parameters. On the other hand, I can respect the Mule Shoe opinion: there is something to be said about loud, consistent music. There is power all those loud notes.

But there is power in the quiet notes, just as there is power in the notes you don't play.

I was really worried about the outcome of last night's gig. When band lineups change, the end result is not usually good. It's like breaking up with someone you have invested a lot of care and nurture in -- it can become bitter in an instant. I really didn't know what to expect from the other guys. I didn't know if I was going to get all emotional, and become a sentimental, sniffling, blubbering idiot -- something that I do become when I have consumed far too much alcohol.

What did happen was nothing short of blissful. It was all hugs and smiles. It was hardly a goodbye. There were compliments abound, thank-you's, best wishes, and even apologies. Every single one of them came to me privately, and we exchanged kind words. Every one of them felt awkward about saying goodbye, and the circumstances that led to my departure. Every one of them said that they would play with me again in a second. They truly appreciated my professional attitude, my dedication to the band, my talents, my overall conduct, and my friendship over the past few months. You often know when people are feeding you lines, or if they are telling you the truth. All the words exchanged between us last night were truly heartfelt.

I know there are countless people out there who, if were given the same scenario I have been presented with the last two weeks, wouldn't have given a shit about the other guys, or the band. The overwhelming majority would have arrived late, not returned phone calls, sloughed off, got stupidly drunk over the last two weeks, and gave a half-assed performance. Hell, if I was given two weeks' notice at my day job, I would be the laziest son of a bitch in the office, and nothing would get done. Instead, even though I knew my days in Mule Shoe were numbered, I gave it everything I could. This last weekend was likely the best I have played in ages -- if ever. Sure, I wanted to make sure the rest of the guys knew well what it was that they were letting go of -- but it goes deeper than egocentrism. I owed it to the guys in the band, I owed it to the drunken spectators of our performances, and I owed it to myself to be the best damn drummer I could be... and if it's not good enough for them, well, it will just have to be their loss.

They have a lot of talent. They are going to do so well in their respective musical careers. It's unfortunate that I will not be a part of it. This is likely not the place to say this, but now I have my own thing going, and my attention will be focused on the new act. I can't say it will be better than Mule Shoe, it will just be... different.

After all the kind words, the best wishes, the smiles and the hugs, I left the bar last night feeling like a million bucks. Having a professional attitude always pays off in the end. It's not over -- just a new beginning.