What if all you had to practice on was a practice pad? Imagine you have no drumset and no music to listen to, and all you have in your possession is a pair of sticks and a pad.

This may actually be your reality, and you’re shouting at the screen, “Stephen, this isn’t funny! I’ve been practicing on a pad for years now and I still haven’t been able to get a real kit.” If that’s you, this email is aimed to help direct your pad practice so that you’ll grow in your skills without a kit in your possession. And if you do have a kit, you’re probably limited as to which hours you can play and make noise anyway. Pad practice should be an important element of your regular practice as well. Today we’re finding the most effective thing to practice on a pad that has the most impact on your drumset playing.

A few years ago I was in the limited-practice-because-I-lived-in-an-apartment situation,...

One time I was playing at a special event early one Monday morning. This was sort of like a “corporate breakfast” kind of thing, where the band would play a little and someone would speak. All the musicians arrived at our bright-and-early call time around 7am, and we prepared for soundcheck. The schedule allowed for a quick soundcheck, followed by about an hour of rehearsal. Should be easy enough since we were only playing three songs. Or so we thought…

This was one of those times where from a technical standpoint….EVERYTHING started going wrong.

The keyboard player couldn’t get any signal out of his keyboard to front of house. The singer’s in-ears weren’t working at all. There was a horrible buzz in everyone’s in-ears that couldn’t be found or explained. No one was able to hear the click and tracks since signal wasn’t making it from the MD’s laptop either. The planned schedule came to a screeching halt, and before...

Article no. 4 in the Gig Contract:

“Stage must include an 8’x8’ level, stable riser on which to set up drums.”

So many bands include something like this in their contracts, but I laugh when I think about how many gigs I’ve played on non-level surfaces. I remember a gig in particular where I had to set up on mulch. Not good...

When I was in college a few years ago, I played a wedding gig with a local brass band. I remember this being one of the highest paid gigs I’d had so far, which was a big deal for me as a college student. Needless to say, I knew it would be a fun gig. This was a five-piece brass band plus drumset, and we were playing all sorts of New Orleans-style and swing standards. However, this wedding wasn’t just any wedding...not because of who was getting married, but because of where it was taking place.

This couple had met at this big university where they both graduated, so it made sense to literally have...

Song learning usually consists of 3 simple steps for me. If there’s a recording or demo of the song, I’ll listen to it and write a chart. From there I’ll jump over to the kit and play through it, and I’ll be good to go. This sounds pretty simple and straightforward (and it really is!), but there are a few key things you want to look out for and make sure you do. The question of “what’s the best way to learn songs” is one I get frequently, so I hope this lesson-style email helps you out!

Step 1: Listen to the Recording

Really listen to the recording. Whether it’s the original record that you’re covering, a vocals-and-guitar demo your bandleader sent you, or a fully put together demo of a new arrangement, listen to the recording thoroughly. In other words, a quick listen in the car doesn’t count. Listening via your phone speaker doesn’t count. Listening to it with any distractions going on around you...

When I first started playing drums with other people early in high school, one thing terrified me most and caused a great deal of anxiety every time I had to do it.

The count off.

Whether this was a “pshhh pshhh pshhh pshhh” on the hihats or a “ting ting ting ting” on the ride, nailing the count off for a song was an important necessity. (After all, you screw this up and the whole band’s gonna fall apart, right?)

I first started playing drums with the high school worship band at my church when I had just begun my junior year. This was the first time I’d ever really played drums with people, and this was especially the first time I’d played in front of a crowd. I’d been playing piano recitals and concerts as a kid since 3rd grade, but playing drums was an entirely different beast. It was way out of my comfort zone when I first started.

One Sunday morning, probably just a month or two into my drumming-in-public debut, I had to count...

Time is relative.

I was recently playing with a really great bass player. We were tightly grooving together, and everything felt natural and musical. We were playing to a click, but there were certain spots in songs where I felt the groove naturally wanting to push or lay back. I was able to ride just ahead then just behind the click, and he was right with me the whole way. On top of the tightly knit drums-and-bass relationship, the other musicians were super locked in as well. Whether we as a band were leaning forward on the beat - or behind - everything was solid, and everything felt natural. This was all made possible by the fact that EVERYONE was listening and EVERYONE was completely aware of the time feel. This circles us back around to that opening phrase there… Time is relative.

If a band is playing super tight, but their tempo is swaying slightly, the listener won’t notice. If a band is playing to a click, but everyone isn’t...

This is one of those short, simple, yet catastrophic stories I bet many of you can relate to. I was on a gig one time where soundcheck went smoothly, rehearsal went great…then the unthinkable happened just before showtime. The "psychological trauma" (spoken mostly in jest!) reminded me of something really important we always need to remember as drummers.

I was playing this particular night with some folks I always enjoyed playing with. We were set up in a fairly large venue on a big stage, and we were all using in-ear monitors. The front of the drum set was covered by the typical clear, heavy drum shield that prevents cymbal bleed into vocal mics. We were fairly spread out across the stage, and guitar amps were in iso-boxes offstage on either wing. Bass was running direct to the house, as were keys and all vocals. Maybe you can guess why I’m telling you all of this…

Rehearsal was a blast, and we played through all the songs for the night. We even...

Imagine you’re in the heat of the moment. You’re faced with a split-second seemingly "life-or-death" decision, and about 1500 people are watching you. Something’s gone wrong, and it’s suddenly up to you to solve the problem. However, there’s a huge risk involved, and you have no idea what might result from the action you’re about to take. You’ll either be a hero…or you’ll mess everything up and there will be no fixing it.

Yes, I know that sounds overly dramatic. But that’s the situation I was in on a gig one time, and that’s exactly how I felt.

I was playing one Sunday morning at a large church. The structure of the service that day was unique, and the band was just playing an opening song. After that, we were done for the service. This was a typical "rock" setup with drums, bass, guitars, keys, and lots of vocalists. There was also a large choir behind us, and there were backing tracks. LOTS of tracks. Our...

A few years ago I played a gig that was really non glamorous. This also might be the strangest gig I’ve ever played, and it’s provided countless funny stories and inside jokes among those of us involved. Here’s what happened…

A friend and fellow musician in college called me one day and said “Hey, a friend of mine is playing a show of covers and a few originals at this charity event Saturday. Would you like to join us and play cajon?” I knew this gig wouldn’t pay (it was for charity), and I knew we’d be playing with someone I’d never met. But the event was happening in a nearby town I could get to within 20 minutes of where I was living at the time. So I said “sure,” not knowing at all what I was signing up for.

You know when you look up an address for somebody’s house and you have to keep zooming in and zooming in on Google Maps to see what the place actually is...and then sometimes you’re still lost...

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...