Brad I played with the heaviest fucking drummer i've ever played with today.

It's amazing how inspiring, embarassing, revealing, exciting, unnerving and otherwordly it is playing with a drummer that you can tell is actually listening to you.

So much for 4 and 8 bar phrases. This guy was playing what I played.
spooky fish heartbeat racing incendiary sweat in cold room

the rhythm in my ears would not let sleep come back down on me
raze i'm the quietest drummer i've ever known, and i barely consider myself a proper drummer at all. still, there's something calming that happens behind the kit. maybe it's something about the hand movements, and the need to keep time, and the way that engages the brain. maybe it also has to do with never writing drum parts, improvising while recording, reacting to the music without a safety net.

whatever it is, it's a uniquely immersive experience.
no reason it's all relative, but i'm always self-conscious that i'm not good enough. 130323
nr everyone today went out of their way to tell me i was good. i appreciated that, since we had a recital after only two practices with all our band members. our teacher guy said my playing was 'very tasteful,' which is a compliment in jazz, for sure.

but it's the teeny things people (and by people, i mean my nitpicky family member) decide to mention as being less-than-perfect that stick. so annoying.

whatever. i don't play for that person.
nr also, that's neat what Brad said above, all those years ago. i love listening to the other band members and playing with them; it's one of the things i love about jazz. not that it can't be applied to other types of music, but jazz kind of demands it in order to be interesting. 151207
what's it to you?
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