That Time Nobody Could Hear the Drums but Me
A really odd (and funny) occurrence at a gig caused me to play better and enjoy the music at a deeper level. What started out as a potentially huge technical problem ended up being... I’ll tell the story:
At this particular gig I was playing drums in a total enclosure. Picture an aquarium, terrarium, or any kind of airtight glass container you can think of that’s large enough to house a drum set and a drummer. This enclosure did it’s job VERY well. With the doors closed, sound could barely come in or out. Neither could oxygen, but that’s another story.
In case you didn’t guess based on the “caged-drums,” this takes place at a church. :) We kicked things off on this particular Sunday with the first song, which went pretty well. After the opening song, someone came up to give announcements. As I double-checked the next song on my Ableton Session on my laptop to my left, I was startled by a tap on my shoulder. It’s amazing how startling a shoulder tap can be when you’re on stage AND in an enclosure AND in the middle of the church service.
“The drums are off!” a worried stage-hand told me in an anxious voice. “We’re not sure what to do. Do you know if something might have disconnected up here?”
“You mean you guys are getting nothing out there?” I asked.
“Yeah - They’re totally off.”
I quickly glanced around, following the signal path from the drum mics out to a snake. No disconnections in sight... Strangely enough, I had been able to hear myself just fine in my in-ear mix. Not sure what’s going on. I sent a quick text to the front of house guy, hoping for some info. Before I knew it, though, it was time to count off the next song.
What followed was one of the coolest sets I’ve played. At this point, I knew the drums weren’t on in the house and no one could hear me. I could hear me, though, and everything was just fine on my end. I played my very best as I always try to, but I was relaxing in a way I hadn’t really relaxed in a while. I found myself sitting back and playing music. I wasn’t worried about what anyone thought, and at this point I couldn’t try to impress anyone with my playing even if I tried. This was extremely liberating!
The set ended, and we headed off stage. I checked my phone to see what the sound guy said in reply to my panicked text earlier.
His reply was shocking.
“No, everything was fine. I could hear you loud and clear.”
What? But wait... but they said the drums weren’t on? You mean this whole time there wasn’t a problem?!
Some further questioning led to a full explanation of what had actually been a major miscommunication. The drums WERE ON the whole time. The stagehand had been talking about the small spotlights inside the drum enclosure. Evidently the lights came unplugged and never turned on. The lights were off - not the microphones.
We had a good laugh, but this left me really thinking. What if I could play as calmly and relaxed as I did today? Why can’t I feel that way every time I play, even when I know a lot of people are listening?
I can’t say that I’ve perfected the art of calm, relaxed playing without any kind of nerves or adrenaline. (Not that either of those things are bad - They can actually be helpful in a lot of performance situations.) But I do remind myself of how it felt to just play music with no urge or reason to impress anyone. It’s interesting how you play differently when it’s just you and it feels like there’s not “anything on the line.”
At any gig, set aside any urges to impress. Set aside any ego that requires a level of “showing off” in order to feel good about yourself. I’ve learned that none of that stuff works well anyways, so might as well avoid it for a lot of reasons. Focus on being a good musician who helps the band to sound great.
Take Care and God Bless,
Stephen
