Yours in drums,
Chris
3 December 2014
Mic check… 1, 2, 1, 2
Been away for a while. New ideas and articles brewing. 2015 is going to be grand.
7 September 2014
Excursus: Why the Drums?
My intention in writing is not so much didactic as experiential; a journal of my own experiments and attempts at understanding the various aspects of the discipline. I want to think through what it is I have been doing, how and why. One of the big questions that I want to attempt to answer is: why the drums? Of all the things a person could do with their time and energy, why do I spend so much of mine with this musical instrument? And of all the musical instruments, why this one in particular? And, why music anyway?
Here is a list of first, immediate impressions.
Sonic power. Of all the instruments, the drums possess an immediacy and force that comes forward in the mix of sounds. It's what I heard and still hear first in every song.
Structural ordering. Music is organised sound, aural architecture. The drum is the instrument that makes and outlines the structure explicitly, at times implicitly.
Movement. The drum pushes or holds the music in it's progression forward. Behind or before the beat, the drum creates the feeling of momentum in a song.
Total engagement. Of all the instruments, the drum kit requires and welcomes the use of the whole body. All four limbs are required, and within this quadrilateral matrix there is a freedom to use each member in innumerable ways and combinations.
Primal and mundane. The drums represent the most accessible and basic form of sound, the kind I hear everyday and night, even alone my heart is there, beating. I have the drums with me all the time. Thinking like a drummer is much like thinking like a skateboarder - mundane forms take on new possibilities. Rhythm is everywhere.
When I was first introduced to the drums at the age of four it was a naive impression of all these and more. Over the years I have found that the drums fit my personality — a kind of symbiosis. No one told me I had to like them, or practice (unlike the piano, the bane of all young musicians). The shape of my heart fit the shape of the sound that they made and the experience that could be had in the moment of playing them.
I wonder if I would have known this had it not been for the friendship my parents had with Jim Coffin. We spent many hours at his house, and as a professional musician with a basement full of instruments he provided me with my first encounter with the drum. As he jammed with a retinue of musicians I sat with a pair of bongos and "played" along. They were all smiles, encouraging. From Jim my mom bought my dad a four-piece Premier kit with hats and a ride. That kit sat in our living room for the next 6 years, and at the age of ten became mine. Symbiosis and opportunity.
Over the years I came to realise that the drums were the centre of every band. A terrible band could be made great by the drummer. A great band would be handicapped by an amateur drummer. Consider a few examples. Imagine Led Zeppelin with anyone but Bonham. Imagine the Police with anyone but Copeland. I saw Nirvana play on many occasions before Grohl joined. The previous guy was passable, but it was only after Grohl joined that me even mentioning this anecdote makes sense. I saw Sound Garden when Chris Cornell was on drums. It was a disaster. Shift Chris to the front, bring in Matt, history. This is an appeal to my own vanity, but also an explanation of all the initial things that attracted me and still attract me to the instrument. The drummer is the first among equals, and the instrument is that which makes the music whole.
Yours in drums,
Chris
Here is a list of first, immediate impressions.
Sonic power. Of all the instruments, the drums possess an immediacy and force that comes forward in the mix of sounds. It's what I heard and still hear first in every song.
Structural ordering. Music is organised sound, aural architecture. The drum is the instrument that makes and outlines the structure explicitly, at times implicitly.
Movement. The drum pushes or holds the music in it's progression forward. Behind or before the beat, the drum creates the feeling of momentum in a song.
Total engagement. Of all the instruments, the drum kit requires and welcomes the use of the whole body. All four limbs are required, and within this quadrilateral matrix there is a freedom to use each member in innumerable ways and combinations.
Primal and mundane. The drums represent the most accessible and basic form of sound, the kind I hear everyday and night, even alone my heart is there, beating. I have the drums with me all the time. Thinking like a drummer is much like thinking like a skateboarder - mundane forms take on new possibilities. Rhythm is everywhere.
When I was first introduced to the drums at the age of four it was a naive impression of all these and more. Over the years I have found that the drums fit my personality — a kind of symbiosis. No one told me I had to like them, or practice (unlike the piano, the bane of all young musicians). The shape of my heart fit the shape of the sound that they made and the experience that could be had in the moment of playing them.
I wonder if I would have known this had it not been for the friendship my parents had with Jim Coffin. We spent many hours at his house, and as a professional musician with a basement full of instruments he provided me with my first encounter with the drum. As he jammed with a retinue of musicians I sat with a pair of bongos and "played" along. They were all smiles, encouraging. From Jim my mom bought my dad a four-piece Premier kit with hats and a ride. That kit sat in our living room for the next 6 years, and at the age of ten became mine. Symbiosis and opportunity.
Over the years I came to realise that the drums were the centre of every band. A terrible band could be made great by the drummer. A great band would be handicapped by an amateur drummer. Consider a few examples. Imagine Led Zeppelin with anyone but Bonham. Imagine the Police with anyone but Copeland. I saw Nirvana play on many occasions before Grohl joined. The previous guy was passable, but it was only after Grohl joined that me even mentioning this anecdote makes sense. I saw Sound Garden when Chris Cornell was on drums. It was a disaster. Shift Chris to the front, bring in Matt, history. This is an appeal to my own vanity, but also an explanation of all the initial things that attracted me and still attract me to the instrument. The drummer is the first among equals, and the instrument is that which makes the music whole.
Yours in drums,
Chris
25 August 2014
Drum Physics, Pt. 3: Suppleness
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| Two sets of highly supple, warrior hands. Clyde & Jabo. |
In the last post I talked about the two primary grip-styles and some of their advantages. Now I want to talk about the physical attitude that I want to have whether I use one grip-style or the other. The best word in the English language to describe the ideal is suppleness. Suppleness is an adjective meaning "bending and moving easily and gracefully; flexible" (Oxford English Dictionary). Other words that convey a similar idea are graceful, elegant, agile and deft. The opposite of suppleness is rigid, inflexible, stiff. The supple hand experiences the least friction, and so possesses the most speed, precision and stamina. In order to understand suppleness it is also important to understand that it is a way of controlling and using energy; mastering the physics of the energy that exists in the sphere of the drums.
Playing the drums is a physical activity which involves striking the surface of the drum, cymbal or other percussion instrument. It is an activity that produces a good amount of energy and heat. The motion I make when throwing and retrieving the stick reveals the level of suppleness I have obtained, and so the skill I possess in managing all that energy.
Here is a simple observation: gravity is a reality of our daily lives. Objects have weight because of the pull of the earth on them. This includes the sticks in my hand. If I release the stick, it falls. Seems obvious enough. But it's not our natural tendency to use this energy. We are prone to intervene, to overwork, to create friction. I want to move away from over-intervention. How do I learn to do that? Here are a couple of exercises to move towards greater suppleness.
First, if I release the stick over the surface of a drum, it bounces back a bit. In fact, if I hold the stick at it's fulcrum — the place on the shaft where there is a near-balance between tip and butt — I find that the tip of the stick will bounce multiple times on the surface, until it eventually comes to rest. If I drop the stick from a high enough position, it even seems to bounce back just below it's original starting point. I do my best to just get out of the way, and I find that the energy that emerges is free to run its' course. I do little but cause the fall to happen. Try this, without any action toward or away from the drum. It will feel dumb at first, because our natural tendency is to get involved, to do something. Remember, this is just an exercise; we are not making music, we are working at suppleness.
Second, I release the stick as before, but this time I allow for a certain number of bounces, say two or three, then I lift the stick up and let it drop again, until the time between the bounces becomes seamless. In order for this to happen, my hand must be relaxed and yet responsive to the motion and energy of the stick. I am simply controlling the energy, not creating it through any action towards the drum. I am lifting the stick away a bit perhaps, but I am not yet throwing it towards the drum. What am I doing? I am training my muscles to understand the nature of the energy that the stick and the drum produce. I am tuning myself to my instrument, not the other way around. I try this exercise on each drum and cymbal, because each will produce different response times as each possess different wave qualities.
Working towards a supple hand has a number of benefits, some I already mentioned, but one important benefit is the end of injury. When I first started playing my natural tendency was to hold onto the stick and in effect push it through the drum in order to get power. I was the driver. In fact, I used to think that using the dynamics of the drum was a kind of cheating, as I assumed that unless I muscled through it, it wasn't really playing. Odd thinking? Yep. The outcome was calloused, aching hands, broken sticks and heads and a few cracked cymbals. Now I realise that some drummers pride themselves on their scars and breaking drum heads, but you are doing it wrong. I can get as much or more power now, and I have not broken any sticks or heads in years. In fact I have to retire sticks because of warpage, not breakage. I change heads because they have outlived their tune-ability. I no longer get callouses or wake up after a gig with aching hands.
Some of this stuff began to dawn on me while engaged in another art. It was a revelation to me when a kendo instructor told me to cast the sword like a fisherman, holding it lightly. The principle being that a supple hand is a flowing and reflexive one. My natural inclination was to grip the bamboo sword, but I was getting in the way. My sensei was able to slap my sword out of my hands because I was too rigid, too controlling. Once I understood the need of suppleness, I was able to deflect blows by absorbing them. It sounds paradoxical, but giving up control allows for more elegant movements that actually create more control and finesse. I can become the manager of energy rather than it's creator or servant, preserving my own energy and stamina.
I hope the exercises are helpful. They are not an end in themselves, but a vehicle towards mastery. Until next time.
Yours in drums,
Christopher
19 August 2014
Drum Physics, Pt. 2: A Primer on the Two Grip-Styles
Besides the nature of the sticks, there is also the question of how to hold them. There are a few aspects to this I want to cover. This includes the type of grip, suppleness, posture and energy. The main principle, the thing to aim at, is this: reduce friction as much as possible. When we reduce friction, we increase speed, energy, precision and stamina. The reduction of friction is an idea I will return to again and again. First though, a basic primer on the two grip-styles.
When I first started out playing on my dad's kit as a four-year-old I gave no thought to how to hold the sticks. My natural choice was to hold them in matched-grip style; one hand mirroring the other. I still use this style, as I am very comfortable with it, and alternate between it and the classic traditional-grip. I have found that both styles have their own unique sets of advantages. Here are some general distinctions between the different styles.
Matched-grip is the most natural way to hold the sticks. It is the most common among drummers of all kinds. People don't need to be taught this approach; we tend toward bilateral symmetry from an early age. Within this style there are a few variations. Traditionally the two main approaches have been called the German and the French grip. The former is a palms' down, all finger grip that employs the flexion and extension movement of the wrist. The latter is a palms-facing lateral approach and uses the ulnar and radial deviation movement of the wrist. In the French grip the fingers are the primary drivers as the ulnar-radial deviation of the wrist is much more limited than the flexion-extension movements of the German grip.
The traditional-grip style introduces asymmetry into the mix. One hand, usually the left, grips the stick in palm-up fashion, and the pronation and supination movement of the wrist and forearm are employed when striking the surface of the drum or cymbal. The stick rests in the fleshy webbing between the thumb and index finger. The index and middle finger rest on top of the stick, while the ring and pinky are bent inward to the palm. This grip was introduced as a way of striking a drum hanging at the waist of a military or marching drummer. The slope of the drum away from the soldier required it. When the drum kit was created, early drummers still angled their snares away from their bodies, creating a parallelism between the shaft of the stick and the surface of the drum. Some players still do this.
What I find with the traditional-grip is that I am far more conscious when using it, perhaps because of my being less familiar with the dynamics it provides and creates. But the necessity of two very different motor skills and technical movements requires a level of calmness and relaxation that matched-grip does not. Consider this. The human body sinks to certain actions when stress levels increase. One of these is bilateral-symmetry which is a simplification of motor-skills under physical and psychological duress. Police officers experience this sort of reflex when confronted by a threat and train against it in order to maintain the independent use of both limbs. When the heart rate, under stress, reaches 115 bpm, there is a noticeable loss of fine motor skills. In certain performance situations, this loss can hinder the ability to use the traditional-grip in an effective manner. In other words, all that subtle playing you did in the rehearsal room is all but lost. Ever notice how loud some drummers get in front of an audience? Some of that has to do with their heart-rate and stress level, which translates into a lack of subtlety. I don't want to go into too much detail here (more on physiological aspects later), but suffice it to say that traditional-grip requires more complex motor skills than matched-grip, and so requires a level of calm and control that the matched-grip does not. Just something to consider.
All this may be some of the reason that drummers tend to think of the traditional grip as the realm of the expert, and there is an aura of professionalism that surrounds those who use this style exclusively. It is not altogether an unfounded perception. Like the martial arts, we move through the Halls of Craft, honing our skills. In this case using both styles is a vehicle to all-around improvement and confidence. My advice is to practice all the rudiments around the kit alternating between both styles. Using one or the other exclusively is a limitation that may be a hinderance to further growth in later years.
Yours in drums,
Chris
When I first started out playing on my dad's kit as a four-year-old I gave no thought to how to hold the sticks. My natural choice was to hold them in matched-grip style; one hand mirroring the other. I still use this style, as I am very comfortable with it, and alternate between it and the classic traditional-grip. I have found that both styles have their own unique sets of advantages. Here are some general distinctions between the different styles.
Matched-grip is the most natural way to hold the sticks. It is the most common among drummers of all kinds. People don't need to be taught this approach; we tend toward bilateral symmetry from an early age. Within this style there are a few variations. Traditionally the two main approaches have been called the German and the French grip. The former is a palms' down, all finger grip that employs the flexion and extension movement of the wrist. The latter is a palms-facing lateral approach and uses the ulnar and radial deviation movement of the wrist. In the French grip the fingers are the primary drivers as the ulnar-radial deviation of the wrist is much more limited than the flexion-extension movements of the German grip.
The traditional-grip style introduces asymmetry into the mix. One hand, usually the left, grips the stick in palm-up fashion, and the pronation and supination movement of the wrist and forearm are employed when striking the surface of the drum or cymbal. The stick rests in the fleshy webbing between the thumb and index finger. The index and middle finger rest on top of the stick, while the ring and pinky are bent inward to the palm. This grip was introduced as a way of striking a drum hanging at the waist of a military or marching drummer. The slope of the drum away from the soldier required it. When the drum kit was created, early drummers still angled their snares away from their bodies, creating a parallelism between the shaft of the stick and the surface of the drum. Some players still do this.
What I find with the traditional-grip is that I am far more conscious when using it, perhaps because of my being less familiar with the dynamics it provides and creates. But the necessity of two very different motor skills and technical movements requires a level of calmness and relaxation that matched-grip does not. Consider this. The human body sinks to certain actions when stress levels increase. One of these is bilateral-symmetry which is a simplification of motor-skills under physical and psychological duress. Police officers experience this sort of reflex when confronted by a threat and train against it in order to maintain the independent use of both limbs. When the heart rate, under stress, reaches 115 bpm, there is a noticeable loss of fine motor skills. In certain performance situations, this loss can hinder the ability to use the traditional-grip in an effective manner. In other words, all that subtle playing you did in the rehearsal room is all but lost. Ever notice how loud some drummers get in front of an audience? Some of that has to do with their heart-rate and stress level, which translates into a lack of subtlety. I don't want to go into too much detail here (more on physiological aspects later), but suffice it to say that traditional-grip requires more complex motor skills than matched-grip, and so requires a level of calm and control that the matched-grip does not. Just something to consider.
All this may be some of the reason that drummers tend to think of the traditional grip as the realm of the expert, and there is an aura of professionalism that surrounds those who use this style exclusively. It is not altogether an unfounded perception. Like the martial arts, we move through the Halls of Craft, honing our skills. In this case using both styles is a vehicle to all-around improvement and confidence. My advice is to practice all the rudiments around the kit alternating between both styles. Using one or the other exclusively is a limitation that may be a hinderance to further growth in later years.
Yours in drums,
Chris
12 August 2014
Drum Physics, Pt. 1: The Sticks
Drums are a total instrument. I learned that from Elvin Jones. The kit is one instrument, not a bunch of disparate parts all stuck together. This includes those things we use to hit things: the sticks. How many times have I been handed a pair of sticks in a drum shop or by a well-meaning drummer that look like a couple of shredded wheat-bix? "You want me to play with these?" I think. It's like putting on a pair of shoes two sizes too small. For too many drummers the sticks are an after-thought. But, how much incomprehensible frustration and uncomfortable playing has been caused by the wrong choice of sticks? "Is it just me?" some ask. Maybe. But it just might be your sticks that are holding you back padawan.
There are a number of aspects to consider when choosing this element of our instrument.
First, the materials. Wood is still the most common and most popular material used for the sticks. There are some exotic synthetics available now, including carbon fibre and composites like sta-pac®. Yet, simple woods still dominate. There are reasons for this that transcend marketing. Wood has vibrational and aesthetic properties that no science lab has yet been able to duplicate. Wood is an orthotropic material with three mutually perpendicular axises: longitudinal, radial and tangential. What does this mean? Due to its cellular structure, wood is adaptive, resilient, and easily formed yet strong. Different types of wood possess sound qualities that make them ideal for musical instruments of different kinds. Wood has yet to be bested. (For those interested in the science see here for more).
The two major types of wood used for sticks are hickory and maple; oak and persimmon are also used but are less common. All of these possess qualities that create distinctive sonics.*
Of the two common types, maple is the less dense, softer and lighter wood. The cellular structure is larger, and because of this the vibrational qualities create warmer, deeper sounds on cymbals and drums. Sound travels slower through maple, and as such the waves are larger and thus lower than hickory. Don't take this as some kind of absolute scientific fact, but I tested both a maple and hickory stick on a ride cymbal using a spectrogram and the response of the cymbal was 1KHz lower than the hickory stick (both with tear-drop tips). The perception is that the maple sticks creates lower volumes, but the difference is actually the frequency, which requires higher volumes to be heard. "Warm" is the metaphor used when describing the frequencies of maple.
In terms of comfort, maple has some advantages over hickory, let alone oak. In the hand maple warms faster than the denser hickory. The vibrational aspect is lower, as mentioned before, and because of this the dissipation of energy is less intense; maple has a built-in dampening quality. The feeling of burning often experienced by those who grip the stick is less affective.
The transient response of the two types of wood varies. Some of this depends not just on the wood, but the form, diameter, type of tip on the stick and the skill or hand-technique of the player. But generally speaking, because of the cellular structure, maple tends to have a slower response, that is, a slower return after striking. Hickory is comparably stiffer, and as such has a slightly quicker return. I am not sure what the exact differences are mathematically, but in my experience this is a distinguishing quality between the two types of wood.
Second, the form. There are six facets to every stick: the butt, the shaft, the shoulder, the taper, the tip and the over-all length.** Each of these plays a role in the dynamics, sound qualities, transient response and relational comfort of the stick. I choose a butt and shaft size that fits my hand, and in my case it is a larger .595"/1.51 cm up to a .610"/1.55 cm diameter and a generally longer stick. I buy Vic Firth*** sticks, and the two models that I have found to work for me are the AJ1 (16"/ 40.64 cm L) and the SD10 (16 1/8" / 40.96 cm L). Although these designs have a large butt and shaft, they both have tapers that are quite long, providing a response that is fast and easy.
The tips on both models are the acorn or tear-drop type. Compared to other shapes, this one seems to provide the most contact with the surface of the cymbal and the drum head leading to greater spread, texture and volume. Other tips have different properties, like a more focused sound, that is very specific and contained, sharp. Others, such as barrel or round, may provide a quicker response.
Besides the models I mentioned above, I also keep a few standard 5B's and the smaller and lighter AJ6 around for different playing situations. The four models seem to cover any playing situation I might find myself in, and they each have different dynamics that I like. Out of the four only the SD10 is maple. I do have a couple of pairs of some maple sticks from Canada called Headhunters. They are hard to find in stores, but if you come across them, try them out.
Having said all this, there are some players that seem to defy the apparent physics of the stick. I have a pair of Thomas Lang sticks that I bought out of curiosity, as they are some of the heaviest and largest tipped sticks I have ever seen played by a pop-jazz player. Lang plays highly technical, subtle and fast jazz with these monsters (.650" / 1.65 cm D). Lang created a stick that fits his abilities and needs. His effortless attack seems to speak to the way in which a highly refined hand-technique precedes the design of a stick. More on this aspect of physics in a later post.
Some Advice
When deciding on a stick, I suggest starting with some of the base-line or standard models that have stood the test of time: 7A, SD4, 85A, 5A, 5B, and the 2B. These designs are good starting markers, like guiding stars, within the ever growing constellation of stick designs. They are standard sizes among all the manufacturers as well, although there are slight differences between each version. Between these models are all the variations and exotic design spin-offs with non-standard names like "Manhattan Jazz" that can overwhelm the padawan drummer. Once you know where you are it is easier to sail out into the wilds.
Find a drum store where the staff will let you have some fun trying out a variety of sticks on pads and on a drum-kit. The better shops are staffed with guys who will not frown on this.
Have fun.
*I am not going to talk about nylon tipped sticks. They possess their own qualities that some drummers find helpful. I used them on a few occasions, but found them awkward and have not used them since.
** Who came up with the anthropomorphic descriptions? Presumably, some guy going through Freudian therapy.
***By the way, I am not a Vic Firth endorser, and this is not an ad. I have tried many stick brands over the years, and have just landed on Vic's after trying to find the right fit for me. There are a number of great stick manufacturers out there. What I am writing here is due to a long process of elimination over 25 years of playing.
11 August 2014
Co-opting the Arts?
When one moves from the northern to the southern hemisphere, the shift in context is total. Even the stars suffer a topsy-turvy turn, and the sunlight that once intuitively directed in the right direction now quietly deceives; a sorted of mysterious cheated feeling sinks in. Why can’t I find north? This is especially troubling when one is trying to give it a go at social assimilation, because even when one might feel like they’ve “got it”, a persistent niggle says otherwise. Blame it on astronomy maybe, or just a stubborn disposition, either way it can make for long nights.
As I am a recent émigré to the city of Adelaide from the United States — somewhere near Seattle, best known as the stomping grounds of Kurt Cobain, K Records and home to the world’s best coffee (not Starbuck’s!) — the slow process of “getting it” has just begun. As a designer and musician, I have been deeply curious about just what makes up the “art industry” in this part of the wonderful world. The seeming abundance of bands, venues, nightly gigs and regular festivals were motivating factors in moving here, and I am looking forward to getting to know as many musos and others involved in what appears to be a flowering culture of the arts. But up to this point I had been naive about the way things are done here. As I started digging, I found some aspects that were quite surprising, and felt like I had to write this stuff down to help myself come to terms with what is a very different structure than what I knew back in the States — not to say better or worse, just very different. I am talking more about the business side of things and, to be blunt, how deeply involved the SA government seems to be with artists and many major events (their logo seems to appear on just about everything… http://www.creativesa.org/). The following is a sort of personal list of pros and cons about government involvement in the arts, and my attempt at a brain twist to see things from what is a new perspective for me.
Naturally, I start with the negations. Obviously these will grow out of a bunch of prior assumptions I bring with me from my past experience. “This doesn’t taste like Swiss chocolate” can only be spoken by those who have tasted. I have always worked best if I line up the sticky-wickets and have a go. So, first, the cons.
Government is designed — and more specifically Australian democratic government — as an egalitarian entity, representing the just interests of every person as far as they are able. This is a noble perspective when it comes to juridical concerns and should be applauded, but in the field of aesthetics, it means a flattening of expectations. In other words, everyone should have access, but by the very principle of equal-share implied by the political philosophy, no one can be excluded. Every artist that seeks funding or support is by virtue of an equal society free to share in that society’s tax-funded services. Now whether this actually happens is questionable, but the basic principle of government supported arts, implies that every citizen who claims to be an artist should have access, regardless of the quality or lasting significance of their work. No curating is allowed.
Government investment in the arts stifles profitable, private investment and a competitive, artistic marketplace. A lasting music industry infrastructure cannot compete with government “free” services that are the purvey of the private sector. Granted, the expansive industry in the United States has been problematic and at times presented a seemingly impenetrable wall to the working artist. For many it is just a monster. But there can be no doubt that it has also been the source of deep and lasting economic and artistic advancement for those who have worked within and understood the ins and outs of the institution. The experience and work-ethic of the U.S. music scene is driven by an entrepreneurial spirit that is based soundly on enterprise free from government investment or involvement. That same infrastructure could not have come into existence if government had offered services or access that competed with the private sector. Not to twist the thorn, but it is still a common story that an Australian artist must go elsewhere to “make it” and the reason for this may lie in the government’s misguided attempts at creating an industry. (The story of FORMAT (1), (2) is one to ponder in regards to government subsidies and the control of artistic direction).
Government involvement in the arts has the potential to stifle expressions of political and social dissent. A key ingredient of many great works as well as musical movements throughout history has been an open wrestling with the question of legitimate authority and the abuse thereof. Poetic dissent has been a motivating factor behind the American jazz scene, the international punk rock movement, many of the great Jamaican roots songs, and even rock and roll to varying degrees. Imagine Joe Strummer writing the lyrics to “Clamp Down” whilst on the government payroll or “Robert Nestor Marley, Government Musician”. Disingenuous perhaps? For both the government and the artist to maintain their integrity, it is necessary that both keep to their respective fields, and recognize the roles each are responsible to fulfill.
Government involvement with the arts requires a secular or neutralist bias towards the arts. This is less true in those contexts in which a particular faith or religious expression is generally accepted, but within an egalitarian, democratic political structure the irony is that those artists who hold to a particular faith-expression will face exclusion on the basis of the very ideals that are meant to protect personal freedoms. Government oversight and sponsorship requires that no one form of religious, artistic expression be put forth as the final truth. The government is not necessarily free to discriminate between religions, but the presence of government sponsored work suggests that it must do so in its role as representative of all citizens.
And now, the pros…
Government sponsorship of the arts could make possible the creation of work that exists without the marketplace in mind. The public, buying audience may not have the taste or foresight to accept and support artists that are ahead of their time, that express a motive that is not yet communally expressed. Government sponsorship can sustain the creative work of an artist for future success, for a time when the market is ready.
Government sponsorship can provide time to work for the art’s sake, to create works that are experimental and educational for the artist themselves and not for a paycheck or stipend. Great works are often born when no particular end is in mind. This takes time and economic freedom, two things that are difficult to come by when the artist is working a day job to support themselves and perhaps a family as well.
Government sponsorship may create a more communal, social awareness in the artist.
Conclusion
After sorting through my list, I found myself still unsure of just what to conclude. My prior assumptions make me want to error on the side of total privatization: get government out of the “industry” completely. But that seems unrealistic given how dependent SA is as a festival state, and the government funding of most of the major events that take place here. The notion of non-profit driven music endeavors is simply bad-business where I come from, but the abundance of artists and the opportunities to showcase work is refreshing. Balancing out economic concerns with the social benefits is not always easy, and when it comes to the arts, the social aspect can oftentimes trump the economic. Artists don’t mind starving as long as they get to make their art. But sustaining artistic growth, especially for musicians, will require a more long-term solution, one that must eventuate in economic sustainability, that is, home-grown, profit-making music businesses and events.
In the past patronage was enacted by private citizens, the Medici family of Florence being the classic model of the perfect benefactors. Michelangelo was a recipient of Lorenzo’s generosity, and the world benefitted. In lieu of any private sponsorship, governmental sponsorship may suffice at least temporarily. I take it as a truism that the wealthy have an obligation to support the arts, to be patrons of artists and to care for their welfare. Not simply as investors in past works or forms, but as supporters of future artists in all areas of creativity and new forms of expression.
As I am a recent émigré to the city of Adelaide from the United States — somewhere near Seattle, best known as the stomping grounds of Kurt Cobain, K Records and home to the world’s best coffee (not Starbuck’s!) — the slow process of “getting it” has just begun. As a designer and musician, I have been deeply curious about just what makes up the “art industry” in this part of the wonderful world. The seeming abundance of bands, venues, nightly gigs and regular festivals were motivating factors in moving here, and I am looking forward to getting to know as many musos and others involved in what appears to be a flowering culture of the arts. But up to this point I had been naive about the way things are done here. As I started digging, I found some aspects that were quite surprising, and felt like I had to write this stuff down to help myself come to terms with what is a very different structure than what I knew back in the States — not to say better or worse, just very different. I am talking more about the business side of things and, to be blunt, how deeply involved the SA government seems to be with artists and many major events (their logo seems to appear on just about everything… http://www.creativesa.org/). The following is a sort of personal list of pros and cons about government involvement in the arts, and my attempt at a brain twist to see things from what is a new perspective for me.
Naturally, I start with the negations. Obviously these will grow out of a bunch of prior assumptions I bring with me from my past experience. “This doesn’t taste like Swiss chocolate” can only be spoken by those who have tasted. I have always worked best if I line up the sticky-wickets and have a go. So, first, the cons.
Government is designed — and more specifically Australian democratic government — as an egalitarian entity, representing the just interests of every person as far as they are able. This is a noble perspective when it comes to juridical concerns and should be applauded, but in the field of aesthetics, it means a flattening of expectations. In other words, everyone should have access, but by the very principle of equal-share implied by the political philosophy, no one can be excluded. Every artist that seeks funding or support is by virtue of an equal society free to share in that society’s tax-funded services. Now whether this actually happens is questionable, but the basic principle of government supported arts, implies that every citizen who claims to be an artist should have access, regardless of the quality or lasting significance of their work. No curating is allowed.
Government investment in the arts stifles profitable, private investment and a competitive, artistic marketplace. A lasting music industry infrastructure cannot compete with government “free” services that are the purvey of the private sector. Granted, the expansive industry in the United States has been problematic and at times presented a seemingly impenetrable wall to the working artist. For many it is just a monster. But there can be no doubt that it has also been the source of deep and lasting economic and artistic advancement for those who have worked within and understood the ins and outs of the institution. The experience and work-ethic of the U.S. music scene is driven by an entrepreneurial spirit that is based soundly on enterprise free from government investment or involvement. That same infrastructure could not have come into existence if government had offered services or access that competed with the private sector. Not to twist the thorn, but it is still a common story that an Australian artist must go elsewhere to “make it” and the reason for this may lie in the government’s misguided attempts at creating an industry. (The story of FORMAT (1), (2) is one to ponder in regards to government subsidies and the control of artistic direction).
Government involvement in the arts has the potential to stifle expressions of political and social dissent. A key ingredient of many great works as well as musical movements throughout history has been an open wrestling with the question of legitimate authority and the abuse thereof. Poetic dissent has been a motivating factor behind the American jazz scene, the international punk rock movement, many of the great Jamaican roots songs, and even rock and roll to varying degrees. Imagine Joe Strummer writing the lyrics to “Clamp Down” whilst on the government payroll or “Robert Nestor Marley, Government Musician”. Disingenuous perhaps? For both the government and the artist to maintain their integrity, it is necessary that both keep to their respective fields, and recognize the roles each are responsible to fulfill.
Government involvement with the arts requires a secular or neutralist bias towards the arts. This is less true in those contexts in which a particular faith or religious expression is generally accepted, but within an egalitarian, democratic political structure the irony is that those artists who hold to a particular faith-expression will face exclusion on the basis of the very ideals that are meant to protect personal freedoms. Government oversight and sponsorship requires that no one form of religious, artistic expression be put forth as the final truth. The government is not necessarily free to discriminate between religions, but the presence of government sponsored work suggests that it must do so in its role as representative of all citizens.
And now, the pros…
Government sponsorship of the arts could make possible the creation of work that exists without the marketplace in mind. The public, buying audience may not have the taste or foresight to accept and support artists that are ahead of their time, that express a motive that is not yet communally expressed. Government sponsorship can sustain the creative work of an artist for future success, for a time when the market is ready.
Government sponsorship can provide time to work for the art’s sake, to create works that are experimental and educational for the artist themselves and not for a paycheck or stipend. Great works are often born when no particular end is in mind. This takes time and economic freedom, two things that are difficult to come by when the artist is working a day job to support themselves and perhaps a family as well.
Government sponsorship may create a more communal, social awareness in the artist.
Conclusion
After sorting through my list, I found myself still unsure of just what to conclude. My prior assumptions make me want to error on the side of total privatization: get government out of the “industry” completely. But that seems unrealistic given how dependent SA is as a festival state, and the government funding of most of the major events that take place here. The notion of non-profit driven music endeavors is simply bad-business where I come from, but the abundance of artists and the opportunities to showcase work is refreshing. Balancing out economic concerns with the social benefits is not always easy, and when it comes to the arts, the social aspect can oftentimes trump the economic. Artists don’t mind starving as long as they get to make their art. But sustaining artistic growth, especially for musicians, will require a more long-term solution, one that must eventuate in economic sustainability, that is, home-grown, profit-making music businesses and events.
In the past patronage was enacted by private citizens, the Medici family of Florence being the classic model of the perfect benefactors. Michelangelo was a recipient of Lorenzo’s generosity, and the world benefitted. In lieu of any private sponsorship, governmental sponsorship may suffice at least temporarily. I take it as a truism that the wealthy have an obligation to support the arts, to be patrons of artists and to care for their welfare. Not simply as investors in past works or forms, but as supporters of future artists in all areas of creativity and new forms of expression.
30 July 2014
Technique, Mastery and the Flow
"When your spirit is not in the least clouded, when the clouds of bewilderment clear away, there is the true void."Technique is something to learn, then forget. The samurai approach to learning was to master the technical aspect of a discipline, then see through the technique to the place of no-technique, the void. This may sound a bit mystical and corny, so maybe a more popular term from athletics like "the zone" or "flow" would help. Basically, it is getting to the point where technique has eliminated anything superfluous, and the player has become the desired action, having left behind thought of what she should be doing. The thought and the action are one. Some people call it muscle memory, or mnemonic engraving.
— Miyamoto Musashi, Japanese Swordsman
This experience is common to all people who engage in some form of demanding, physical activity. People who drive frequently experience it, drifting into other thought while still fully engaged and aware on a busy freeway. Veteran soldiers experience it in combat. Musicians experience it while performing. I have had this experience on numerous occasions, the sensation of standing outside of myself watching my body do things that I had up to that point thought beyond my abilities.
This level of engaged indifference takes many hours of disciplined training. It is not a place of uncaring, nor does it mean dispassion. Rather, it is the place where all the technical and skills training begins to gel into a singular action that is contextually appropriate and powerful. It is a kind of unified plateau, where thought and actions are one, from which further creative developments can easily flow. It is highly pleasurable too. But, it is also permanently elusive, as one seeks to obtain higher levels of skill and musicianship. It is something no one ever obtains absolutely, not in this life. When I try to look at it, it disappears. This is the mystique of it.
In the past ten years I have naively developed what has turned into a sort of program. I didn't plan it, but found myself naturally working in accordance with some basic laws of physics and going back to what some would consider the most basic, rudimentary aspects of drumming. After hitting walls regularly and wondering what I was doing wrong, I started looking for answers in the boring, unglamorous, unflashy stuff. The stuff that drives drum students mad with impatience. It seems to be working.
Lately I began the process of rationalising this approach. The program includes four aspects: Physics; Grammar; Poetry and Contextual Awareness*. All of these are interrelated or interdependent. Improving one improves the others. Within each of these aspects is a set of both physical and mental exercises or techniques that correspond to the nature of music as a whole. These techniques are also designed to close the gap of coordination and concentration, the two weak-spots of any musician that are usually expressed in a loss of the groove. My aim is to sit, as regularly as possible, in the void.
I hope to expand on each of these four somatic-abstract techniques in the next couple of weeks.
Yours in drums,
Chris
*I am taking a page from the pedagogical approach of the mediaevals. It is a style of learning that corresponds to the developmental stages of my mind. The metaphor of language seems appropriate too, as drumming is simply a form of language in conversation with others in a musical context. John Riley's scheme of aspects is helpful too: Technique, Groove, Creativity and Musicianship. His materials have been helpful to me in understanding my own experience and approach, the way I have learned and how to maximise the process, getting rid of superfluous stuff. If some of my ideas are similar to his, he gets all the credit. Having said that (to cover my own butt), I believe that what John Riley tapped into is a structural law that corresponds to the shape of the mind. It is a universal learning structure, albeit currently neglected, that corresponds to our humanity.
"You must strike with intent and focus."
— Miyamoto Musashi, Japanese Swordsman
26 July 2014
Building a Hybrid Drum-Kit: My Journey
Over the past seven years I have been making attempts at integrating a digital system into my analog drum setup… with varying degrees of success. As I am not inclined to going the full-monty digitally, I have been on the hunt for some kind of system that would work for me. My list of criteria is not long: it has to be physically practical, technically elegant, user-friendly and not cost-prohibitive. The combinations I have tried include the following:
The Alesis midi-trigger Controlpad paired with a Roland SP-404
I tried this for about a year (2007), having been inspired by the work of Ras G and the Flying Lotus/ Brain Feeder clan of artists. This system fit the physical criteria, as it was compact, light and did not require complex routing. It also met the cost requirement, as these two units ran at about $350.00 (USD) for the SP-404 and $125.00 (USD) for the Alesis pad. I used the SP-404 prior to the 2012 SX model, so these prices are now dated. The problem I faced was the learning curve on the SP-404 and the technical complexity involved in programming it for the type of application I intended. The SP-404 is a sampler designed to capture and perform sounds on the fly, looping and mashing up compositions. It is, in itself, a very cool piece of equipment, and in the hands of a master like Ras G, the instrument takes on otherworldly possibilities. But for me, it required too much attention away from what I wanted to do: launch percussive sounds and play back some loops in the context of live performance. I ended up sacrificing the quality of my drumming to make it work.
One of the primary technical problems was getting the loops to fit the BPM of the live performance. There is a tap-tempo feature built into the SP-404 interface for performance, but I could not figure out how to get one of the Alesis pads to communicate with this feature. I was spending too much time away from the drum-kit to make this work. I did learn quite a bit and I came to admire the musicianship and creative ability of the guys who use the SP-404 as their primary musical tool. Yet, all told(?), it did not suit my needs as a drummer.
The Alesis ControlPad paired with a Mac Powerbook running Ableton Live
During the time I was learning how to program the SP-404, I was also studying Ableton Live. I was using the program to create the digital samples and loop files I was using with the SP-404. I spent a bunch of cash on a set of Bill Laswell samples, and learned how to produce my own with the instruments provided in the program. Ableton is an instrument in itself, and the program provides hours of productive distraction and creative drifting. I think it should be part of any muso’s creative system, if for no other reason than making it possible to pursue sonic ideas. Many bands have made the program the brain of their creative process and even their live performances (Cut/Copy, Sector 9). Ableton has taken me down many social avenues I would not have travelled otherwise, and introduced me to new musical expressions. It is a cultural force as much as a DAW.
The problem for me turned out to be a physical one. Ableton is technically elegant and user-friendly; it is a deep pool but provides for swimming in the shallows too. I already owned a Mac Powerbook, so I don’t include this in the cost of getting this system together. The problem was in moving the signal from the Mac to a sound system: I needed a sound card. The initial solution was the Presonus Audiobox USB, which had the awesome bus-powered feature. But this added to the bulk of my system and, along with the Macbook and ControlPad (and the many cables between them as well as a stand and bags for it all), had me enslaved to a set-up that was becoming unwieldy for a guy without a drum-tech. As a drummer I already carry a good amount of equipment; adding to the bulk was not desirable and the load-in at gigs was becoming impractical. There were also a number of technical issues that some clubs’ sound-men could not resolve. On a couple of occasions I abandoned the attempt to make the digital stuff work.
The Roland SPD-30, RT 10S, RT10K triggers and a PD-8 pad
This is the system I am currently using. In terms of cost, it is a pricey system; the SPD-30 runs at around $800.00 (USD). The triggers at about $100.00 (USD) each. I bought a used PD-9 for about $40.00 (USD). So, it can be prohibitive to a cash-strapped muso. I came into some extra money and was able to buy it, but it wasn’t something I would be able to afford on my regular budget. It is more than I have spent on any of the previous attempts.
The brain of this system is self-contained. Having all the sounds, controls, routing requirements and eight trigger pads in one object is an elegant solution; it is very user-friendly. I like the idea of a single entity, and its expandability makes it flexible enough for a number of different playing situations. The key bonus for me has been the trigger system and the PD-9 pad. The triggers have allowed me to focus my attention on playing my kit with enhanced sounds that make for some amazing sonic moments during live performance. The PD-9 pad functions as a secondary hi-hat that I use for glitched-out techno sounds. The triggers function like nerve-endings in what now feels like a very natural, organic system. I can press a button to move to a new pre-programmed setting, forget about the unit and just play. I use an 18” kick drum, which sounds lovely, but being able to add classic 808 fatness to it has been a dream come true. This alone has felt like justification for all the cost and effort.
There are some specific issues that I am facing with the SPD-30, both technically and physically. I’ll reserve specific technical comments for a dedicated discussion on the unit. In regards to the physical stuff, the unit is quite large. It takes up some real-estate at 54 cm by 27 cm. Finding a strategic spot on the kit was a challenge. I ended up putting it to my left, where a secondary snare would usually be; it sits at the same height as my primary. This placement required the Roland stand attachment (sold separately) and a stand (more gear); the latter of which was, thankfully, gifted to me by a guitarist friend. I am finding that the load-in is still a bit cumbersome despite the elegance of the system overall.
In conclusion, my experience with the Roland set-up has been overall positive. The system works seamlessly because Roland’s engineering is top-notch. At this point, my primary concern is with the bulk of the unit. The Roland triggers and PD-9 have made the surface pads on the unit seem unnecessary to me as these transcend my needs. So, I have a couple of reasons to look for something smaller.
More on the technical particulars of the SPD-30 in a later review.
Yours in drums,
Chris
I tried this for about a year (2007), having been inspired by the work of Ras G and the Flying Lotus/ Brain Feeder clan of artists. This system fit the physical criteria, as it was compact, light and did not require complex routing. It also met the cost requirement, as these two units ran at about $350.00 (USD) for the SP-404 and $125.00 (USD) for the Alesis pad. I used the SP-404 prior to the 2012 SX model, so these prices are now dated. The problem I faced was the learning curve on the SP-404 and the technical complexity involved in programming it for the type of application I intended. The SP-404 is a sampler designed to capture and perform sounds on the fly, looping and mashing up compositions. It is, in itself, a very cool piece of equipment, and in the hands of a master like Ras G, the instrument takes on otherworldly possibilities. But for me, it required too much attention away from what I wanted to do: launch percussive sounds and play back some loops in the context of live performance. I ended up sacrificing the quality of my drumming to make it work.
One of the primary technical problems was getting the loops to fit the BPM of the live performance. There is a tap-tempo feature built into the SP-404 interface for performance, but I could not figure out how to get one of the Alesis pads to communicate with this feature. I was spending too much time away from the drum-kit to make this work. I did learn quite a bit and I came to admire the musicianship and creative ability of the guys who use the SP-404 as their primary musical tool. Yet, all told(?), it did not suit my needs as a drummer.
The Alesis ControlPad paired with a Mac Powerbook running Ableton Live
During the time I was learning how to program the SP-404, I was also studying Ableton Live. I was using the program to create the digital samples and loop files I was using with the SP-404. I spent a bunch of cash on a set of Bill Laswell samples, and learned how to produce my own with the instruments provided in the program. Ableton is an instrument in itself, and the program provides hours of productive distraction and creative drifting. I think it should be part of any muso’s creative system, if for no other reason than making it possible to pursue sonic ideas. Many bands have made the program the brain of their creative process and even their live performances (Cut/Copy, Sector 9). Ableton has taken me down many social avenues I would not have travelled otherwise, and introduced me to new musical expressions. It is a cultural force as much as a DAW.
The problem for me turned out to be a physical one. Ableton is technically elegant and user-friendly; it is a deep pool but provides for swimming in the shallows too. I already owned a Mac Powerbook, so I don’t include this in the cost of getting this system together. The problem was in moving the signal from the Mac to a sound system: I needed a sound card. The initial solution was the Presonus Audiobox USB, which had the awesome bus-powered feature. But this added to the bulk of my system and, along with the Macbook and ControlPad (and the many cables between them as well as a stand and bags for it all), had me enslaved to a set-up that was becoming unwieldy for a guy without a drum-tech. As a drummer I already carry a good amount of equipment; adding to the bulk was not desirable and the load-in at gigs was becoming impractical. There were also a number of technical issues that some clubs’ sound-men could not resolve. On a couple of occasions I abandoned the attempt to make the digital stuff work.
The Roland SPD-30, RT 10S, RT10K triggers and a PD-8 pad
This is the system I am currently using. In terms of cost, it is a pricey system; the SPD-30 runs at around $800.00 (USD). The triggers at about $100.00 (USD) each. I bought a used PD-9 for about $40.00 (USD). So, it can be prohibitive to a cash-strapped muso. I came into some extra money and was able to buy it, but it wasn’t something I would be able to afford on my regular budget. It is more than I have spent on any of the previous attempts.
The brain of this system is self-contained. Having all the sounds, controls, routing requirements and eight trigger pads in one object is an elegant solution; it is very user-friendly. I like the idea of a single entity, and its expandability makes it flexible enough for a number of different playing situations. The key bonus for me has been the trigger system and the PD-9 pad. The triggers have allowed me to focus my attention on playing my kit with enhanced sounds that make for some amazing sonic moments during live performance. The PD-9 pad functions as a secondary hi-hat that I use for glitched-out techno sounds. The triggers function like nerve-endings in what now feels like a very natural, organic system. I can press a button to move to a new pre-programmed setting, forget about the unit and just play. I use an 18” kick drum, which sounds lovely, but being able to add classic 808 fatness to it has been a dream come true. This alone has felt like justification for all the cost and effort.
There are some specific issues that I am facing with the SPD-30, both technically and physically. I’ll reserve specific technical comments for a dedicated discussion on the unit. In regards to the physical stuff, the unit is quite large. It takes up some real-estate at 54 cm by 27 cm. Finding a strategic spot on the kit was a challenge. I ended up putting it to my left, where a secondary snare would usually be; it sits at the same height as my primary. This placement required the Roland stand attachment (sold separately) and a stand (more gear); the latter of which was, thankfully, gifted to me by a guitarist friend. I am finding that the load-in is still a bit cumbersome despite the elegance of the system overall.
In conclusion, my experience with the Roland set-up has been overall positive. The system works seamlessly because Roland’s engineering is top-notch. At this point, my primary concern is with the bulk of the unit. The Roland triggers and PD-9 have made the surface pads on the unit seem unnecessary to me as these transcend my needs. So, I have a couple of reasons to look for something smaller.
More on the technical particulars of the SPD-30 in a later review.
Yours in drums,
Chris
23 July 2014
The Roland SPD-30: A Review
I purchased the SPD-30 six months ago as a solution for a digital/analog hybrid kit. Ever since hearing some of the Lee Scratch Perry and King Tubby mixes in my punk days I wanted to replicate those drum-sounds live; the echoes, the reverbs. Up until a few years ago doing so meant laying out a massive amount of cash, and building some kind of custom system. The drummer from Dub Trio, Joe Tomino, has had some success at this. Stewart Copeland's old setup is a classic example of what it took in the past. For all their effectiveness, these systems have consisted primarily in analog processing through microphones and various effects pedals; in other words, complex systems with the potential for massive meltdowns in a live setting. A drummer attempting this sort of thing needs either a tech or a very sympathetic sound-man.
Roland Corp has been developing digital drum systems for some time now, but real integration with an analog kit has been touch and go up until the past few years. There have been attempts by other companies to meet the need, but the results have been less than stellar. Roland is at the forefront of developing this technology (Nord abandoned their ddrum line, and now it's quality is dubious). But there is still room for improvement, as the needs of gigging musicians and not just studio guys are taken into account.
First, the numbers. The SPD-30 is also known as the Octapad, due to the 8 striking surfaces on the unit. Combined with the 4 external instrument inputs, this makes for 12 possible striking surfaces. This is further multiplied by the Layer Settings which provide for triggering secondary instruments depending on the values chosen in the Instrument Settings. So, there are potentially 24 different instruments that could be accessed in any given Kit.
The unit comes with 99 pre-built kits, but given the massive list of instruments (760 at last count, including melodic and pitched instruments) as well as the broad editing parameters for each (8 types) and the 37 built-in effects the potential for sonic creativity is seemingly endless. Drifting around in the SPD, I have bent and twisted some of the instruments into sounds that have no relation to the original. The spectrum of control over each instrument means a muso can create very personal sounds and styles.
The amount of choice is, obviously, quite large. But, for me, I have some very specific sounds in mind, and so although the unit has all these possibilities, what I found is that I use about 1% of what is there. The rest have no interest for me, or have no immediate application for what I'm doing. I appreciate the sounds, but I will not use them. If I didn't know exactly what I was looking for, I would be lost in this machine, probably overwhelmed with the number of choices available; like a European in the American cereal isle.
Spatially, the unit is relatively small (54w x 27d x 9h cm), but when integrated into a kit like mine it seems to take up quite a bit of real-estate. This has been one of the primary challenges, as I like to have a secondary snare in my setup, but I have had to sacrifice that to include the SPD. On a small stage the size can present some strategic difficulties. It is also adds a bit more to a load-in than I would like.
In terms of kinetics, the SPD-30 is a winner. The response time is immeasurable in human terms. The sounds are instantaneous and the sensitivity is user-dictated, so as a player with a light touch, I can get a response that is equal to what I put into it, mirroring the level of my acoustic kit. Although I can't find specs on the bit-rate, the spread of the frequencies extends beyond 20kHz and below 20Hz. This means that my little kick drum can shake Jeeps if necessary and glitchy sounds can fly above the crowd. The sound quality is impeccable.
In terms of the physicality of the pads, they are similar to many practice pads I have used. They provide a comfortable return in the stick without too much initial force. They have a very natural feel, unlike other midi-pads I have tried out. I have had no trouble with isolation issues or cross-talk between the midi pads.
Aesthetically, everything about the unit feels and looks good: the nobs, the buttons, the case, the lights, the LED interface, even the typography. It is a well designed and engineered instrument made for heavy use. Storm-trooper chic comes to mind.
The SPD-30 is also highly expandable. It has four external trigger inputs and a USB-midi port for laptop integration. I use three external triggers, an RT-10K, RT-10s and a PD-9. These three triggers are like nerve endings that provide enhancements to my analog kit. This is the thing that really has me hooked on the digital system. The triggers can be calibrated to match my playing, so they never intrude on my acoustic playing, they provide perfect integration. I love them.
Some Cons
Although the SPD-30 has loop creation and playback capabilities, using these in live performance can be a bit wonky. What the websites don't tell you is that in order to launch any loops without using the LED interface, the Boss FS-5U pedal (sold separately) is required. I bought it and hooked it up after creating some loop phrases. When I press it a secondary LED window pops up that tells me which pad to strike to start the loop. Then, in order to stop the loop I need to press the pedal again and hit 2 pads simultaneously! I have simply given up attempting this kind of thing live. It is great fun in a studio, but in a live context with other musos depending on me the potential for disaster is high. Roland should reconsider how these actions are assigned to the pads and eliminate the necessity of the pedal too.
The built-in effects are high quality. However, the system is built so that only one effect can be applied on a chosen kit. The single effect can be enabled or disabled on each pad, but alternative effects cannot be applied to different pads or instruments in a kit. There is no effects chaining possible. Changing the single effect's parameters is easy as there is a button on the unit interface which brings up the LED screen. Three knobs on the unit provide for tactile control over whatever parameters each effect offers. The level of control varies from effect to effect.
What has developed over my time with the SPD-30 is a neglect of using the 8 pads on the unit itself. The external triggers have satisfied the level of interaction I need with the actual "brain" of the sounds I am making. I am finding that I don't need to use the 8 pads anymore. I simply setup the digital instruments and play. The extent of my interaction with the larger unit has been reduced to scrolling to the next kit, some volume control and effects tweaking.
The absence of an SD card slot means I can't play my own samples, unless I want to hook up my Macbook Pro and trigger stuff in Ableton. That's a "No" to the multiplication of gear. (Roland has added the SD feature to their new Trigger Module 2, nice).
Conclusion
I have no complaints about the quality or technical aspects of the unit; it does what it promises, without glitches or unexpected problems. It is very solid. The issues for me have been making the instrument fit my needs in a live context. At this point it is the best solution, but having something more compact, without the pads, and with the ability to introduce some of my own sounds would be nice. As a mentioned before, Roland has introduced the Trigger Module 2 with the built in SD card slot. Besides being considerably smaller (13w by 13.5d cm), it is a fraction of the price of the SPD-30. One drawback on the newer Module: only two external trigger ports.
Yours in drums,
Chris
Roland Corp has been developing digital drum systems for some time now, but real integration with an analog kit has been touch and go up until the past few years. There have been attempts by other companies to meet the need, but the results have been less than stellar. Roland is at the forefront of developing this technology (Nord abandoned their ddrum line, and now it's quality is dubious). But there is still room for improvement, as the needs of gigging musicians and not just studio guys are taken into account.
First, the numbers. The SPD-30 is also known as the Octapad, due to the 8 striking surfaces on the unit. Combined with the 4 external instrument inputs, this makes for 12 possible striking surfaces. This is further multiplied by the Layer Settings which provide for triggering secondary instruments depending on the values chosen in the Instrument Settings. So, there are potentially 24 different instruments that could be accessed in any given Kit.
The unit comes with 99 pre-built kits, but given the massive list of instruments (760 at last count, including melodic and pitched instruments) as well as the broad editing parameters for each (8 types) and the 37 built-in effects the potential for sonic creativity is seemingly endless. Drifting around in the SPD, I have bent and twisted some of the instruments into sounds that have no relation to the original. The spectrum of control over each instrument means a muso can create very personal sounds and styles.
The amount of choice is, obviously, quite large. But, for me, I have some very specific sounds in mind, and so although the unit has all these possibilities, what I found is that I use about 1% of what is there. The rest have no interest for me, or have no immediate application for what I'm doing. I appreciate the sounds, but I will not use them. If I didn't know exactly what I was looking for, I would be lost in this machine, probably overwhelmed with the number of choices available; like a European in the American cereal isle.
Spatially, the unit is relatively small (54w x 27d x 9h cm), but when integrated into a kit like mine it seems to take up quite a bit of real-estate. This has been one of the primary challenges, as I like to have a secondary snare in my setup, but I have had to sacrifice that to include the SPD. On a small stage the size can present some strategic difficulties. It is also adds a bit more to a load-in than I would like.
In terms of kinetics, the SPD-30 is a winner. The response time is immeasurable in human terms. The sounds are instantaneous and the sensitivity is user-dictated, so as a player with a light touch, I can get a response that is equal to what I put into it, mirroring the level of my acoustic kit. Although I can't find specs on the bit-rate, the spread of the frequencies extends beyond 20kHz and below 20Hz. This means that my little kick drum can shake Jeeps if necessary and glitchy sounds can fly above the crowd. The sound quality is impeccable.
In terms of the physicality of the pads, they are similar to many practice pads I have used. They provide a comfortable return in the stick without too much initial force. They have a very natural feel, unlike other midi-pads I have tried out. I have had no trouble with isolation issues or cross-talk between the midi pads.
Aesthetically, everything about the unit feels and looks good: the nobs, the buttons, the case, the lights, the LED interface, even the typography. It is a well designed and engineered instrument made for heavy use. Storm-trooper chic comes to mind.
The SPD-30 is also highly expandable. It has four external trigger inputs and a USB-midi port for laptop integration. I use three external triggers, an RT-10K, RT-10s and a PD-9. These three triggers are like nerve endings that provide enhancements to my analog kit. This is the thing that really has me hooked on the digital system. The triggers can be calibrated to match my playing, so they never intrude on my acoustic playing, they provide perfect integration. I love them.
Some Cons
Although the SPD-30 has loop creation and playback capabilities, using these in live performance can be a bit wonky. What the websites don't tell you is that in order to launch any loops without using the LED interface, the Boss FS-5U pedal (sold separately) is required. I bought it and hooked it up after creating some loop phrases. When I press it a secondary LED window pops up that tells me which pad to strike to start the loop. Then, in order to stop the loop I need to press the pedal again and hit 2 pads simultaneously! I have simply given up attempting this kind of thing live. It is great fun in a studio, but in a live context with other musos depending on me the potential for disaster is high. Roland should reconsider how these actions are assigned to the pads and eliminate the necessity of the pedal too.
The built-in effects are high quality. However, the system is built so that only one effect can be applied on a chosen kit. The single effect can be enabled or disabled on each pad, but alternative effects cannot be applied to different pads or instruments in a kit. There is no effects chaining possible. Changing the single effect's parameters is easy as there is a button on the unit interface which brings up the LED screen. Three knobs on the unit provide for tactile control over whatever parameters each effect offers. The level of control varies from effect to effect.
What has developed over my time with the SPD-30 is a neglect of using the 8 pads on the unit itself. The external triggers have satisfied the level of interaction I need with the actual "brain" of the sounds I am making. I am finding that I don't need to use the 8 pads anymore. I simply setup the digital instruments and play. The extent of my interaction with the larger unit has been reduced to scrolling to the next kit, some volume control and effects tweaking.
The absence of an SD card slot means I can't play my own samples, unless I want to hook up my Macbook Pro and trigger stuff in Ableton. That's a "No" to the multiplication of gear. (Roland has added the SD feature to their new Trigger Module 2, nice).
Conclusion
I have no complaints about the quality or technical aspects of the unit; it does what it promises, without glitches or unexpected problems. It is very solid. The issues for me have been making the instrument fit my needs in a live context. At this point it is the best solution, but having something more compact, without the pads, and with the ability to introduce some of my own sounds would be nice. As a mentioned before, Roland has introduced the Trigger Module 2 with the built in SD card slot. Besides being considerably smaller (13w by 13.5d cm), it is a fraction of the price of the SPD-30. One drawback on the newer Module: only two external trigger ports.
Yours in drums,
Chris
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