I’m an impatient person. It runs in the family. Thanks, Dad! I would rather bull my way through something as opposed to taking the time and getting it right. Im apt to throw in the towel long before giving something a reasonable attempt. I’m even getting impatient figuring out how to end this paragraph!
I have been getting into jazz music lately. A drummer myself, I have always greatly admired and watched in amazement the jazz drummer. Why am I not a jazz drummer? You guessed it.
Recently, I have decided that I am going to go all the way back to square one and learn the art of jazz drumming. I have been giving it a legitimate try, and have figured out it may be okay if I don’t turn in Max Roach overnight. Or at all! The smart money is on the latter.
I have learned that the one glaring similarity between jazz drumming and the styles I have primarily played is that one hits a set of drums with a stick. Man, jazz music goes against everything I have trained my mind to think and how I have asked my limbs to react! What do you mean my left hand doesn’t have to hit the snare drum on the exact beat I close the hi-hat with my left foot??? You want me to alternate the two? Holy hell!
It’s been a rush, and I am learning (slowly) to enjoy the process of trying something new. I’m taking my time. Carnegie Hall is not calling me anytime soon! But I AM improving!
So I’ll keep plugging away at it. And who knows? Maybe I CAN learn photography without having to be Ansel Adams. Perhaps I can dabble in landscape painting without feeling I should rival Bob Ross.
But for now, back to drumming. Time for a happy little swing beat.
Whipped Owl 