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Confessions of a Rock Drummer (by special request)


caldrail

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Where to start? As one novelist once wrote, "at the start". Joining or forming rock bands as a teenager is something of an exercise in folly.

A chap I used to used to know at work would say it was all about acceptance, that by making yourself an entertainer, even at such a low level, you improve your popularity. He might be right. It would account for the endless stream of people who joined my bands only to wander away again when they found out they weren't going to be rock stars the day afterward. Perhaps the realisation that rock music was hard work made up their minds. Sometimes the new girlfriend demanded more attention (which for a youth is a very strong motive), sometimes the allure of a motorbike and it's status amongst the 'have-nots' proved stronger.

 

In my case, it was rebellion, pure and simple. My parents were horrified to discover that I'd found out about forms of music they'd sheltered me from. Encountering Deep Purple's Strange Kind of Woman for the first time was a revelation, and my future was being plotted and designed with youthful optimism... or perhaps more accurately, youthful fantasy, but that was before I'd actually done anything.

 

The funny thing is that I can't remember why I chose to be a drummer. Wiltshire County Council paid off my first kit (guess where I spent my student grant) but I have to say for all the fun I had in those early years, it was always a case of Go Back To Start, Do Not Collect

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Urban Myths About Rock Drummers

 

1 - Rock Drummers Get All The Chicks

Are you kidding?

 

Of course they do. Are you kidding ? Everybody knows Pete Townsend never even once 'got lucky'.

As to Roger Daltrey : well, as long as Keith was not around maybe ...

 

I'm sorry, but a gentleman doesn't tell. It's just too embarrasing.

 

Which is it ? Are you pretending to be a gentleman or are you just too embarrased ?

Come on, let us have all the juicy details.

 

F :unsure: rmosus

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Yeah, but Keith pretty much made himself 'seen' and 'known'; usually drummers are just the goof dudes in the back.

 

Glad to hear that Compy is going to pull through. Hopefully you have insurance?

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"Oh" She said, "I thought you were a jogger". In the changing rooms of a gig after midnight?

 

Yah, as if, in the changing rooms of a gig after midnight. Unless the woman journalist was using "jogger" as a polite euphemism for "band's gay groupie."

 

Still, sounds like you had fun, even if you didn't get any chicks.

 

-- Nephele

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Oh cheers Neph... :unsure: Actually, the woman was an idiot. I never took her seriously after that, especially when she didn't seem to know what a session musician was - and she was the local rags music correspondent.

 

Fun? Well it had its ups and downs, like any endeavour. The interminable travelling wore us down a little. Our red van (it had to be didn't it?) wasn't actually roadworthy and on one fateful night, we had a loose spark plug on our return journey from Blackpool. After repeated attempts to screw the thing back in with our bare hands, it eventually fell off somewhere on the M6. With an engine that never ran well in the first place, having only three cylinders wasn't enough to haul two tons of gear and people, so we pulled into a service station to make repairs.

 

This was late autumn if I remember. The wind was strong, cold, and it was a damp night. Me and Dave caught sight of each other in a mirror and we could only laugh hysterically. We looked like a cross between scarecrows and victorian chimney sweeps.

 

It's interesting how perception plays a part. Swindon by and large regarded us as a local band, something I found odd, since we only ever played a handful of gigs there. Indeed, most of our gigs were outside Wiltshire. Our usual venues were found in London, Bristol, the south coast, and the north of England. The fact we were recording albums and playing some serious gigs didn't seem to impact on Swindons conciosness, and I wonder if this was partly because that silly journalist had written us off.

 

The truth is the music business takes no prisoners. It really doesn't. Something like half our gigs in the early years were played to almost no-one, and it's soul destroying to watch your audience melt away after the first song. I think though it was those occaisions where it really did work that made it worthwhile. Besides, we all felt it could go somewhere.

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