Whether we realize it or not, we all form expectations around everything. We may not consciously think about it, but our mind has already decided in advance how we think something will go. Then after the event is over, our perception of “how it went” isn’t so much about how it actually went. It’s more about “were our expectations met?” This is totally true with gigs.

A few years ago I was called last-minute for a gig with some people I’d never met. This was going to be a simple three-piece setup with just drums, bass, and electric guitar - plus a singer. I was booked for the gig two days in advance, but I didn’t know the setlist until a few hours before. As I listened through the songs, I discovered that the opening tune was an original by this artist. Great…I’ve got an hour to learn and perfect a song that happens to be an original. Better not mess this up…

The bass player was the one person in the...

This is a story I bet many of you can relate to. Have you ever had one of those "not-all-that-you-expected," "almost-lame," "less-epic-that-it-should’ve-been" kind of gig? This exact scenario happened to me recently, but the sleepy, less-than-epic night was redeemed by something unexpected at the very end of the show.

On a rainy, winter night in Georgia, I was playing a cover gig with three other musicians. We were playing for three hours at a nearby restaurant that’s often packed with a late dinner crowd (who are often generous with their tips for the band). The thought of a bustling crowd tossing twenties and fifties into the jar is always exciting. Unfortunately, someone had forgotten to bring the container we normally used for tips. That was a little discouraging, but we started playing anyways, hoping to maybe rig something before the second set.

We soon realized, however, that our lack of a tip jar didn’t matter anyway. There was hardly anyone in the...

Something happened on a gig one time that was so outrageous and so shocking that it’s hard to believe it really happened. Looking back six years later, I’ve never had another experience like this. It ended up being a small taste of stardom...

I played in jazz band in college. We played a lot of standards, but we would also learn more challenging, "North Texas" kinds of tunes as well. Occasionally, we'd take our show on the road to a local school or corporate event. This particular spring morning we found ourselves playing a concert at a local middle school. We were actually playing two middle schools that day. The first was an 8:30am show, and the second was a 2pm show just down the road.

We loaded in our gear and set up in the center of the first school's gym, while the kids began filling the bleachers. This early morning hour felt way too early for playing music, but we sound checked anyway and were ready to go.

The "opening act" for the morning was actually a men's a...

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...

I played a gig about a year ago that really tested my inner “type-A,” “always-well-prepared-in-advance” habit. Now that’s a great habit to have as a musician, but every once and a while a gig comes around that offers you no opportunity to prepare. And you never no what additional challenges might come into play on top of that.

It was Thursday afternoon, and I was literally sitting at my computer waiting for an email or text with the set for the gig (which was scheduled to happen in about 3 hours). A fellow musician had called me about a week before for this one-off special-event sort of gig. I really didn’t know who I was playing with, and I didn’t even know much about the event itself. I just trusted the guy I knew who connected me with this particular event.

Sure enough, the evening rolled around with no communication from the bandleader or singer. I showed up extra early in hopes that maybe there’d be some charts on the music stand...

I was on a gig not too long ago that I was super nervous about. I had reason to be worried, because I hadn’t played this type of gig in over 2 years. I felt like I was stepping into a different world, one where I was sure I’d loose my footing and fall flat on my face. First a little bit of backstory…

I majored in Percussion Performance in college. That degree entails all the usual music classes, with lots of lessons and ensemble performances on top of that. Throughout the 4 years I was in school, I performed on non-drumset percussion instruments who knows how many times. I played percussion with the wind ensemble, orchestra, brass ensemble, choir, musical theater, percussion ensemble, plus additional recitals and random concerts (and I’m probably leaving something out). I was blessed with LOADS of performance time during college, which was great because of the learning environment of a college music school. It’s essentially a “safe...

End of high school / beginning of college was when I first had the opportunity to start playing with professional musicians. This was an exciting leap for me, and I just knew I was going to meet someone who would connect me with such-and-such producer who would hook me up with so-and-so artist’s fall tour and I’d make it big. It’s cool to think back on that time, when it seemed like the future could hold ANYTHING. Well, here I am years later and I’ve never landed a major tour. What I’m doing now wasn’t my dream then, but I am “doing music” for a living now - even though it doesn’t look the way I thought it would.

Most of my work fits the bill for “non glamorous” drumming, which has allowed me to really live out something big that one of those pros told me early on…

We had just finished playing a set on this particular gig, and I was eager to ask the bass player for some advice and hopefully get a feel for...

One summer during college, some fellow music-major friends and I put together a band to play at a festival in a neighboring town. This was a big July 4th celebration out on a ball field right off Main Street, and there were going to be fireworks. This was slated to be a big deal, and we rehearsed for months leading up to this Saturday night.

I arrived early and set up my kit on the outdoor stage. (Yes, it’s the same kit you see in my basement today!). I had recently made a drum head upgrade to prepare for this very day, because I had previously had some pretty old beat-up heads on the kit. My shiny Zildjian A’s were also ready to go, and the kit looked beautiful.

The only weak point of the setup was my hardware. I was still using some cheap hardware that had come with the kit. It had held up fine for practicing at home, though, so I didn’t worry too much about it. I especially didn’t worry about my bass drum pedal, which was a pretty decent pedal I...

When I was in high school, I played a battle of the bands at a friend’s school. What never occurred to me until the middle of the show was that I had forgotten the most essential piece of gear that a drummer could have. Not the snare, not the bass drum pedal...not even the cymbals. More important than that.

We loaded in that Friday night, hauling in the black and gold Gretsch drumset from the church where my friend and I both played. This was a pretty nice kit, and though more suited for jazz, it held up just fine for Sunday mornings (and the occasional battle of the bands at a nearby high school). In addition to the sleek drumset, we had a whole stack of the ZBT “rock” cymbals ready to go. I could always count on those cymbals to make enough noise. But as a precaution, we also borrowed the large, folding drum shield from the church as well. Hopefully that would win the battle with the ZBT rocks.

Myself, my friend (who played bass in the high school worship...

A few years ago I played a gig that reminded me of the importance of listening.

This scenario really solidified for me the fact that you CAN survive a night of songs you’ve never heard…as long as you use your ears. Even if you haven’t had the chance to practice, rehearse, or even meet the guys you’re playing with, you CAN hang in there and nail the songs when you focus all your attention on listening.

I’d had this gig on my calendar for a month or so, and I knew ahead of time I was subbing for a drummer in a local blues band. The band leader attempted to schedule several rehearsals leading up to the gig, but nothing ever worked out with everyone’s schedule. I knew we’d be playing for 4 hours late Friday night, so there’d have to be at least 50 songs on the setlist. Most of them would probably be pretty typical 12-bar blues, but who knew if there might be breaks or key spots in the songs I’d have no idea...