Now that I spend most of my time doing DRUM! Magazine business on the Internet rather than in print, I’ve come to terms with the flamers and spammers who’ve elevated indiscriminate criticism to a high art, even (or perhaps especially) when they don’t have much to say. Well, I get it – it’s hard to resist leaving a comment, erudite or otherwise, when all it takes is a few keystrokes to go down in impermanent history.
Generally, I don’t take the bait when it’s clear somebody’s just trying to get under our skin, although it isn’t always easy. For example, I recently had a snarky troll respond to a link I posted on Facebook to the 70+ video booth tours and gear demos we shot at the 2013 NAMM show last January. Our Facebook “friend” sneered that the video archive was just one big advertorial paid for by the featured companies.
He was just plain wrong. We pay thousands of dollars to send our editorial crew to Anaheim every year armed with video cameras so that we can inform our readers and online members about the newest tools on the market to help them sound better. We do that because sounding good is just as important as playing well.
I’m living proof. Back in the ’80s, when I was throwing 100 percent of my energy into the pursuit of a professional drumming career in Los Angeles, I was focused entirely on technique, to the exclusion of everything else. I wanted my drumming to be the fastest, trickiest, and most complex in town. But I almost never considered how my drums actually sounded.
I remember a recording session where the engineer winced at the sound of my dead, buzzing mounted tom. “Why don’t you replace the head,” he suggested. Embarrassed, I had to admit that I didn’t have a spare head with me. He looked at me like I was insane, and never called again. Can’t say I blame him.
I still managed to accomplish many of my professional goals during this period, but continued to struggle infinitely more than other drummers my age who were kicking around Los Angeles during that same time (like Gregg Bissonette, Matt Sorum, and Mark Schulman, to name a few).
Look, there’s something close to a million other reasons why their careers took off while mine sputtered (like, for example, being better drummers!), but I can assure you that one of the big ones was that their drums just sounded a lot better than mine did.
So when we post videos from NAMM, or review new gear, or publish articles about how to tune your kit, these tips are meant to help you become more competitive, rather than to pacify advertisers.
But you aren’t alone. Limousine drivers have to invest in vehicles, carpenters must own power tools, bakers need ovens, farmers need ploughs, painters need easels, and drummers need kits that make them sound great. That’s simply what it takes to get the job done.