Confessions of a Rock Drummer (by special request)
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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