Two More Weeks (aka Back to the Woodshed)

Life is never short of surprises. I suppose life would be boring if we could foretell the future. It would be beneficial in the sense that we could avoid catastrophe, but in the end we would be able to predict our own demises, and then that would raise a whole bunch of philosophical issues, such as if the future is written in stone, or if we are in control of our destinies. A wise, 800 year-old Jedi Master once said: "Always in motion, is the future", and though I would like to think I have a bit of a psychic twinkle, I didn't see this one coming -- at least so soon.

Yesterday, I was fired from Mule Shoe. Actually, being fired is inaccurate, but more like I was given my two weeks' notice. I have two more weekends with the band, and I become a free agent. It is a complicated situation, but they re-hired the original drummer in the band, who also happens to be the bass players' son.

I find it a perplexing situation. There is no bad blood between any of us -- I guess I'm just not the guy for their band. In fact, they had nothing to say about me except the highest praise. They were more than "just impressed" by my dedication, enthusiasm, punctuality, talent, and professionalism. It seemed like I was everything they wanted in a drummer, but in the end, it must have been something else they were looking for.

This is my public statement, and I honestly wish them all the best in their future endeavors. They truly are great people, and have treated me with the utmost respect.

I would be lying if I told you my final two weeks with the band aren't going to be emotional. Even though I have played with them for only a short while, I have known them all for a number of years. There is a bond between us that will be broken. There will be wounds, but they heal. And even though I am depressed about the situation, I also felt like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders.

There is irony in this experience; this isn't the first band I have been fired from. I have played in many bands, and I know they don't last forever. They are a lot like teenage relationships. There is the potential for nasty breakups and backstabbing, they are often short-lived, but usually filled with a sense of euphoria when you are part of one. When you first get into a relationship, you can't believe how perfect it seems. As time passes, you begin to see the faults in the relationship. Playing in a band is no different, except there are usually many "significant others" in a band situation, which can complicate things, and it's always easier to sort things out between two people.

Drummers have it tough. Statistically speaking, they are the most frequently replaced member in any band. I find this strange, as the drummer is the backbone of the band. A good drummer can make or break a band. In the same breath, there are many drummers out there, but few good ones. Because of my love affair with my instrument, I take my craft very seriously, and I take many steps to ensure that my talents are appreciated, and respected. Even in my small city, there are drummers crying for gigs, and there are only a select few that work on a regular basis. Thus, if I want to continue playing in this city, I must play my best at all times.

This means a lot more than being proficient at my instrument, but being skilled is the most integral of them all. I am constantly trying to expand my playing abilities so I can play anything that is thrown my way. Even Mule Shoe, being a heavy rock band, pushed the envelope for my playing. I had to hit hard consistently. They also had a number of songs that were technically demanding. There were long songs, and some fast ones, that I was winded by the time I finished playing them. Drumming is cardiovascular, and maintaining a certain level of fitness does help any drummer.

Equally important to technical proficiency is the drummer's sense of time. If the drummer has no solid sense of time, his tenure in the band will be short. It is a drummer's job to hold the band together. Related to this point is drug abuse. All drugs, alcohol and caffeine included, alters a person's perception of time. When I am on the gig, I watch my consumption of alcohol, as I notice a change in my playing with even the smallest doses.

Punctuality and professionalism go a long way -- in any career. Playing in a band should be no different. If you are serious about your craft, then you should act like it. People will be inclined to treat you more professionally if you exhibit that persona.

Every drummer should learn to sing, and learn another instrument. This will expand your understanding of music, and having the ability to contribute harmony to the band will make you more employable. Music is a tough, tough business, and there is no point is selling yourself short out of pure ignorance.

That being said, all this advice will not prevent anyone from being fired. I still lost my gig even though I apparently did nothing to warrant it. A person may be called an asset, even indispensable, but in the end, nobody is irreplaceable.

So in two weeks, I will return to the woodshed, honing my chops. I will place a few phone calls. I will continue with my professional attitude, and prepare for my next big break -- whether it happens within the next week, or the next year.

Veruca Salt

True Story. I swear on my stamp collection.

I have been quite busy with my students lately, and I have been wrapping up a number of projects, as it is approaching the end of the school year. This "final" week of teaching features a number of my students playing in a recital-type situation.

Last night, there was a performance with my students and a number of other novice players at a local all-ages club. Every Monday evening, this club has an open stage night, where players can have the opportunity to play before spectators. My mother is a member of this club, and she has been trying to get me to attend these jam sessions.

Immediately after I finished teaching my last pupil last night, I went to this club to greet my students. I was greeted at the main doors by a teenaged-girl, whom I had never met, but who I will refer to as "Veruca Salt" (For those who are familiar with Roald Dahl's novel Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, you will soon understand why I named her that).

The first thing out of Veruca's mouth was "Are you with all those people that have just started showing up?" I nodded. She then asked "Why?" in a rather cynical tone of voice. I tried explaining to her that myself and another teacher brought our students to this open jam session to allow them an opportunity to perform for other people. Her response was absolutely ludicrous, stating something of the fact that we were invading her space, and we were not welcome -- while she stormed away.

I was left completely speechless. Never in my life have a met someone who was so blatantly rude to me in front of my face. I certainly did not have ample time to conjure up a witty remark in retaliation of this assault. I know how I felt; like telling this witch what I thought of her attitude problem, and deflating her ego, in hopes of bringing a little humility to her.

I asked my mother what this girl's problem was. She started laughing, realizing that I just had a close encounter with Veruca. It appears that this girl behaves like this all the time, and very few people at the club can tolerate her. Of course, Veruca got up and played a few songs, but I certainly can tell that her talents weren't worth bragging about -- certainly not to the degree she throws her weight around that club.

Obviously, Veruca does not realize the importance of people skills in a musical situation. If you have a poor attitude, and you are controlling and demeaning to others, no one will want to make music with you, regardless of your talents. I know this from experience, as I have played in bands with controlling and manipulative people. What normally happens in this situation is the band members fight, people quit, the band breaks up, and eventually the word gets around that certain people are difficult (or impossible) to work with. Thus, these rude, egocentric, controlling people end up playing by themselves.

Nearing the end of the night, there were less than ten players left at the club. I asked my mother how many people show up to these jams on a weekly basis. My mother replied that the people I saw in the club at that moment, consisted of the core group. No wonder so few people attend this jam session at this club anymore. This little brat has sucked out any enjoyment anyone could have. It has certainly convinced me that I don't want to go to that club to jam on any regular basis.