Drummer Wanted. Must Have Amazing Left Hand

I answered the phone the other day,

"Hi Pete, I don't know if you can help me. I need a drummer for a show next month who can play eighth note triplets in his or her left hand at 160 bpm. It needs to be traditional grip though. Are you available?"

Said no one. Ever.

OK; it's a lot of fun to work on some of the more intricate aspects of drum technique. I should know, I've spent a great deal of time pursuing these goals over the years, but I learned a long time ago that practice is an investment of time, and like any investment I want the maximum return for the minimum possible outlay.

The traditional left hand reference at the top of the post makes me think of Buddy Rich, whose centenary has just passed this very weekend. Buddy and Joe Morello were the two undisputed masters of this particular type of technical facility and it would take a steward's enquiry to get between them. Joe was arguably a shade faster but Buddy was ahead on control and endurance. As these two legends were my first and most enduring major influences it's not surprising that this is an area of playing I find fascinating.

That said I have no time for YouTube uploads with titles like 'Buddy Rich's Left Hand Technique Explained' as he is the only person who could possibly explain it, were he still here, and the chances are he would avoid the issue, as anyone who ever heard Jim Chapin's "I willed it to happen" anecdote will concur.

What is interesting about the proliferation of tuition videos of varying merits is that their abundance has made this kind of technique, once seen in only a very few players, now by comparison commonplace. Either that or drummers have been doing it for years but now we have smartphone cameras and the internet it's much easier to bring our efforts to wider attention.

'Look at me' drumming, in other words.

I'm all for a bit of 'look at me' playing in the right context, although a six snare tribute at a well-known drummer's funeral was once compromised by one of the players deciding that he was going to play as many notes as possible in spite of the sombre mood of the piece, then went on to drop a stick, and ended up looking a little bit silly.

The key to having strong technical facility is knowing when not to use it. There is nothing whatsoever 'wrong', with having technique to spare if it is used sparingly, thus leaving the listener wanting more. Buddy Rich reference once again; so many times I saw his band play live where the total time on stage would be a little under two hours, of which rarely more than ten minutes (work out the percentage for yourself) would be of the maestro going it alone.
I still smile at the memory of the moral superiority of a gas fitter and part time drum tutor from Bolton who once lectured me about the benefits of  'playing for the song', the inference being that for me to have the temerity to get my chops out in public was somehow 'inappropriate'. There's probably an aggrieved minority who consider drum solos to be 'micro aggressions'.

Anyway, back to the plot. Let's all continue to be inspired by the greats of yesterday, today and for that matter, tomorrow. Dismantle the ideas of the players you admire, and recast them in your own image. I was recently flattered when I watched another drummer play and he included an attempted replication of a key idea of mine, which I had arrived at by mixing  a selection of other players' ideas. Whilst the acknowledgment of my influence was undoubtedly a compliment I'd prefer him to put his own slant on it, but he's got years ahead of him so hopefully he will. Similarly I teach in such a way that every player comes back with their own personal interpretation of the study material rather than the "three beats to learn for next week" approach which leaves little scope for finding your own voice.

So, back to the practice pad and that cool left hand stuff. Going 'diddleiddleiddleiddle' on the pad is a far cry from making this kind of stuff work in a musical context, as those we admire the most undoubtedly could.

 If you have to stop, change the shape of your grip and then go for it, you're probably just as well off balancing a beach ball on the end of your nose.

No 2 the O2.

Living in the country I seldom go to live shows; in fact I'm struggling to remember what was the last such occasion. There have been many notable events down the years, and the recent passing of Walter Becker reminded me of a great show by Steely Dan in 2007 at Hammersmith.  That venue has been rebranded so many times but to those of a certain age it will always be Hammersmith Odeon. Once upon a time a venue like Hammersmith was considered high capacity for pretty much any touring band, irrespective of how big the name. There have been festivals and fields full of people seemingly forever of course, but over recent times bigger and bigger venues have become much more the norm.

So where and when did the change begin. Was it Shea Stadium? Are The Beatles to blame?

I've been to one or two arena gigs over the years and quite honestly I really get very little enjoyment from them for a number of reasons.
When still living in London we went to see Lionel Ritchie at the O2. Having worn out the corny joke about whether or not he would play 'All Night Long' we headed off to the peninsula, took our designated places about two thirds of the way back in the arena, and watched five tiny little dots in the middle distance run through Lionel's back catalogue.

I didn't hang  around to hear him play All Night Long in the end, as having been detained for what seemed like hours in a post Barbara Streisand gridlock a year or so previously I knew what to expect. I like venues where you can walk out of the door, straight into the street and go your own way. They're a lot safer too as has been proved by recent tragic events, and I certainly have no wish to be corralled just attempting to leave an event.

A well-worn formula that was trotted out regularly for many years was 'Glenn Miller tribute plus firework display'. I did a great many such shows with several of the bands and the objective always was to break those drums down and make a run for it before the audience began to mobilise, otherwise you would be stuck in an enormous jam on the cramped exits roads of properties curated by the National Trust before it became obsessed with diversity.


My rule of thumb is that if I need a big screen image to confirm that that tiny dot on the horizon is the person I have paid £85 to see, I'm better off watching a DVD at home. In my house there's never a queue for the lavatory and we don't drink out of plastic glasses.



Cadogan Hall just off London's Sloane Square is a particular favourite venue to play. This will come as a surprise to nobody as it has been the setting for a number of concerts by my big band over the years. In addition I have worked there for other people and sat in the audience for several shows. The auditorium has a capacity of about 900.You can see everyone and more importantly, they can see you. If you don't want your interval drinks on site you can walk to The Botanist, or any number of other establishments. You have freedom to choose something other than overpriced fizzy lager or tepid chardonnay to be found in the 20,000 capacity venues from which there is no escape until it's time to leave. A non-captive audience is my kind of audience.

One of the more recent live shows I attended was at Pizza Express, Soho, with a band that included the legendary Steve Gadd on drums. To be able to watch this titan of the drums at super close range (not for the first time I might add) makes for great education as well as entertainment. Dean St Pizza is a favourite venue both to watch or to perform. Its near neighbour Ronnie Scott's ranks very highly too.

Having dealt with the visual aspect it's also worth considering sound.
I like to play as acoustically as possible. I don't like having my drums close mic'd if at all possible, and I would always prefer to play without a monitor wedge deafening me on one side. There's nothing quite as 'real' as being able to hear the natural sound of one's fellow musicians. Acoustic performance gives you optimum control over dynamics, balance, intonation and a whole lot more. I have no wish to be thirty yards from my rhythm section cohorts; I want them where we can communicate effectively.

Just like my earlier comment regarding video screens I would rather hear the sound being created by the players as opposed to the front of house engineer. In even the smallest of rooms a modicum of re-enforcement is often needed, but I still like to be able to hear the natural sound as created by the artists on stage.

Music is not football or athletics, it can be performed perfectly in a relatively small space. Think about it for a moment, putting a concert on featuring a four piece band in an 80,000 seat sports arena makes about as much sense as holding the FA cup final on the stage of the Amersham Arms. Sadly corporate greed tends to trump artistic integrity almost every time. Artists making a comeback doing stripped back 'acoustic' shows are often doing so because of declining box office numbers rather than a desire to get closer to the paying audience.

If I ever found myself in the somewhat unlikely circumstance whereby my band could fill an arena I simply wouldn't do it.

Ten dates filling a 30,000 capacity venue is roughly 350 shows in an 850 seat venue. I know which I would prefer to do. Think of all the diaries full of gigs for 14 musicians (plus the odd dep) and I'd get the chance to play at peak form, because there's only one way to do that, which I'll share on a future occasion.