Thursday, June 7, 2018
Friday, March 9, 2018
The Piano
When I was 13 or 14, some local musicians recognized my talent and told my father that I was a good drummer, but if I was going to be a great musician, then I needed to play some piano.
I got lessons. I tried, but it didn't work out. It wasn't the right time. I was restless and distracted. We couldn't afford a piano, so we got this little electric keyboard that was difficult to play and without any real inspiration from the instrument or the teacher, I quit.
Then came music school.
I was awarded a scholarship to The Conservatory of Music at Kansas City. For playing drums. When I got to school, my first class was Piano 101, 8am. I stuck with it. I learned my major scales in all 12 keys. But then, when second semester came, I dropped out. Just couldn't stay with it. I was't making any music with the instrument that I enjoyed. It was all theoretical.
As the years went by, I regretted not staying with piano. I picked up guitar, easily and taught myself all the basic chords. But the piano remained a mystery.
I even became intimidated by the piano. Mostly because it just confused me and I couldn't play even the most simple of songs on it. Whenever I'd try to sit down and learn something, I just got frustrated because I couldn't get my mojo on it like I could drums and guitar.
More years went by, finally I bought a keyboard, a decent one. I wrote my first tune on it. I'd get a melody going that I liked, then I'd ask friends what chords went with the melody. I really should have been able to figure that out, but I leaned on friends who were happy to talk music theory at me, leaving me in the dust after one or two concepts.
I tried a few more times to deal with it. At the New School in NYC, and then again with friends who said they could teach me. It always ended the same way: frustration and the wall between me and the piano getting taller and thicker.
Then, I found a guy in my neighborhood. A real teacher who happens to be a great jazz player. Cool! I went to him, paid him, and sat down to learn.
We stared off with major scales, the 5 kinds of 7th chords and that was my mission. I created a practice journal and kept detailed track of my progress. In a few months, I could play "Satin Doll" by Duke Ellington. Progress at last!
Where most musicians would go straight over my head with theoretical talk, my new teacher kept it totally simple. Suddenly, things began to stick. I learned inversions of the chords, a task that took several months, but I did it.
In time, I found that I preferred practicing piano to practicing drums. I enjoyed making music, chords, colors. I got addicted to it.
Then, after the first year of study, I was playing songs like "Ladybird" and "Confirmation". I learned all these Tri-Tone Subs for the 2-5-1 progression. Now it was starting to sound a little like Bill Evans! This made me very happy.
Then, I made a huge leap and bought a Yamaha piano. A beautiful upright U-1. I played a chord and listened to it ring out..... The sonics of the strings seemed to change colors as the chord faded. It fascinated me. I sat there all day, playing chords and listening.
Then something really cool happened. I played a gig on drums with a piano trio, and I felt like I didn't have to play so much. In fact, there were many times when I stopped myself from instinctually jumping in and playing the beat right away, I listened more. The drums became something different.
The next gig it happened again, this time even more. I could let the bass and piano be heard more clearly. I found myself finding ways to not play as much cymbals, so that I could hear the sonics of the bass and piano. Suddenly, even playing standards became infinitely more interesting and the possibilities became open ended.
I'd heard drummers talk about the piano changing their hearing, but I never understood until now.
Another cool thing that happened: I started finishing tunes that I'd started, but couldn't finish. I put melodies on these cool vamps I'd written, then added a bridge or another section. My tunes started to make sense, started to sound like what I wanted to write. This was/is exciting! I learned about chord tones, passing tones, leading tones. Ah moments came left and right.
So, I write this post for drummers who are maybe intimidated of the piano, maybe they don't know where to start. My best advice, find a teacher who lives close to you and who is consistent. Also, they must know what you want out of it. Do you want to be a concert pianist? Probably not. You need a basic understanding of music as a whole, and as far as the piano is concerned, you just need to be able to play enough to get what you want out of it. The right teacher is key. Take your time and find the right teacher, not just a friend who can help you with some theory, not a buddy who wants to trade piano lessons for drum lessons. Get a real teacher. one who has a track record. One who has a method worked out.
The piano is such a joy now and it's only getting better. I'm really glad I gave it another chance.
I got lessons. I tried, but it didn't work out. It wasn't the right time. I was restless and distracted. We couldn't afford a piano, so we got this little electric keyboard that was difficult to play and without any real inspiration from the instrument or the teacher, I quit.
Then came music school.
I was awarded a scholarship to The Conservatory of Music at Kansas City. For playing drums. When I got to school, my first class was Piano 101, 8am. I stuck with it. I learned my major scales in all 12 keys. But then, when second semester came, I dropped out. Just couldn't stay with it. I was't making any music with the instrument that I enjoyed. It was all theoretical.
As the years went by, I regretted not staying with piano. I picked up guitar, easily and taught myself all the basic chords. But the piano remained a mystery.
I even became intimidated by the piano. Mostly because it just confused me and I couldn't play even the most simple of songs on it. Whenever I'd try to sit down and learn something, I just got frustrated because I couldn't get my mojo on it like I could drums and guitar.
More years went by, finally I bought a keyboard, a decent one. I wrote my first tune on it. I'd get a melody going that I liked, then I'd ask friends what chords went with the melody. I really should have been able to figure that out, but I leaned on friends who were happy to talk music theory at me, leaving me in the dust after one or two concepts.
I tried a few more times to deal with it. At the New School in NYC, and then again with friends who said they could teach me. It always ended the same way: frustration and the wall between me and the piano getting taller and thicker.
Then, I found a guy in my neighborhood. A real teacher who happens to be a great jazz player. Cool! I went to him, paid him, and sat down to learn.
We stared off with major scales, the 5 kinds of 7th chords and that was my mission. I created a practice journal and kept detailed track of my progress. In a few months, I could play "Satin Doll" by Duke Ellington. Progress at last!
Where most musicians would go straight over my head with theoretical talk, my new teacher kept it totally simple. Suddenly, things began to stick. I learned inversions of the chords, a task that took several months, but I did it.
In time, I found that I preferred practicing piano to practicing drums. I enjoyed making music, chords, colors. I got addicted to it.
Then, after the first year of study, I was playing songs like "Ladybird" and "Confirmation". I learned all these Tri-Tone Subs for the 2-5-1 progression. Now it was starting to sound a little like Bill Evans! This made me very happy.
Then, I made a huge leap and bought a Yamaha piano. A beautiful upright U-1. I played a chord and listened to it ring out..... The sonics of the strings seemed to change colors as the chord faded. It fascinated me. I sat there all day, playing chords and listening.
Then something really cool happened. I played a gig on drums with a piano trio, and I felt like I didn't have to play so much. In fact, there were many times when I stopped myself from instinctually jumping in and playing the beat right away, I listened more. The drums became something different.
The next gig it happened again, this time even more. I could let the bass and piano be heard more clearly. I found myself finding ways to not play as much cymbals, so that I could hear the sonics of the bass and piano. Suddenly, even playing standards became infinitely more interesting and the possibilities became open ended.
I'd heard drummers talk about the piano changing their hearing, but I never understood until now.
Another cool thing that happened: I started finishing tunes that I'd started, but couldn't finish. I put melodies on these cool vamps I'd written, then added a bridge or another section. My tunes started to make sense, started to sound like what I wanted to write. This was/is exciting! I learned about chord tones, passing tones, leading tones. Ah moments came left and right.
So, I write this post for drummers who are maybe intimidated of the piano, maybe they don't know where to start. My best advice, find a teacher who lives close to you and who is consistent. Also, they must know what you want out of it. Do you want to be a concert pianist? Probably not. You need a basic understanding of music as a whole, and as far as the piano is concerned, you just need to be able to play enough to get what you want out of it. The right teacher is key. Take your time and find the right teacher, not just a friend who can help you with some theory, not a buddy who wants to trade piano lessons for drum lessons. Get a real teacher. one who has a track record. One who has a method worked out.
The piano is such a joy now and it's only getting better. I'm really glad I gave it another chance.Monday, February 19, 2018
Follow Through
"Knowledge isn't enough. You have to do it."
I think about this quote a lot and about the phrase "Follow Through."
Life presents many opportunities and people usually imagine all of the boundless possibilities in such opportunities and situations. But there is something missing between the idea itself and the realization of the idea.
Follow Through.
This applies to everything. Finishing what you start.
Let's apply it to music.
All of us know that there is a very cut and dry side of music that we have to learn if we expect to be able to comprehend the totality of music: harmony, melody, rhythm and form. We know what we have to do, our teachers lay it out for us. For drummers it goes something like:
The snare drum and the rudiments. The kit and coordination. Feel. Timekeeping. Playing with people. Learning songs, styles, idioms. Professionalism. Study. Vision. Purpose.
Along the way, we hit walls that challenge our discipline. The best musicians scale these walls with thorough study, consistency, determination. Clarity of vision. And Follow Through.
The best musicians go past where most are unwilling to go. They have the discipline. But, most will stop at the edge of their discipline, gaze out at the vista of discovery, and decide that it's too much work. There are other, easier things to do. And so they settle, they remain where they are at. They make excuses and avoid the discipline it takes to move past what it is that is challenging them.
It is common for less talented students of music move past those with more talent and opportunity with sheer follow through. I have seen some with supreme talent, with their road seemingly set to greatness, fold like a cardboard house at the slightest challenging winds.
Speaking for myself, I have experienced both sides of the fence. In my early life, I lacked the discipline to really follow through. I glossed over things and let my talent cover it. Later, my talent was no longer enough. So, I started learning discipline through hours in the practice room. I willed myself past my idea of what discipline was and forged a new idea, a new standard of discipline.
I couldn't always hold it. At times, I made excuses. At times, I folded. But as I got older, I found discipline to be the prime source of fulfillment in my life. I thrive on it now. A day lived with discipline is a day living in forward motion. A day without discipline is a step backward and likely a wasted opportunity.
I have learned a lot about Follow Through by observing myself, but also my students. I have seen students come in methodically, always prepared, and they improve steadily with quality and thoughtfulness. I have seen them come in and totally wing it, thinking that their talent would get them over, or that they could blow off the work they were supposed to do, probably thinking.. "Ah, I do it someday."
Follow Through in your stroke.
Follow Through in what you're doing.
Follow Through in your communications with people.
Follow Through with your intentions.
Follow Through completes a thought. It completes, makes whole, ties up the loose ends.
Follow Through continues something: a promise, a relationship, an idea.
Follow through with your undertakings. Finish them.
Like this post.
Have a great day.
Fin.
I think about this quote a lot and about the phrase "Follow Through."
Life presents many opportunities and people usually imagine all of the boundless possibilities in such opportunities and situations. But there is something missing between the idea itself and the realization of the idea.
Follow Through.
This applies to everything. Finishing what you start.
Let's apply it to music.
All of us know that there is a very cut and dry side of music that we have to learn if we expect to be able to comprehend the totality of music: harmony, melody, rhythm and form. We know what we have to do, our teachers lay it out for us. For drummers it goes something like:
The snare drum and the rudiments. The kit and coordination. Feel. Timekeeping. Playing with people. Learning songs, styles, idioms. Professionalism. Study. Vision. Purpose.
Along the way, we hit walls that challenge our discipline. The best musicians scale these walls with thorough study, consistency, determination. Clarity of vision. And Follow Through.
The best musicians go past where most are unwilling to go. They have the discipline. But, most will stop at the edge of their discipline, gaze out at the vista of discovery, and decide that it's too much work. There are other, easier things to do. And so they settle, they remain where they are at. They make excuses and avoid the discipline it takes to move past what it is that is challenging them.
It is common for less talented students of music move past those with more talent and opportunity with sheer follow through. I have seen some with supreme talent, with their road seemingly set to greatness, fold like a cardboard house at the slightest challenging winds.
Speaking for myself, I have experienced both sides of the fence. In my early life, I lacked the discipline to really follow through. I glossed over things and let my talent cover it. Later, my talent was no longer enough. So, I started learning discipline through hours in the practice room. I willed myself past my idea of what discipline was and forged a new idea, a new standard of discipline.
I couldn't always hold it. At times, I made excuses. At times, I folded. But as I got older, I found discipline to be the prime source of fulfillment in my life. I thrive on it now. A day lived with discipline is a day living in forward motion. A day without discipline is a step backward and likely a wasted opportunity.
I have learned a lot about Follow Through by observing myself, but also my students. I have seen students come in methodically, always prepared, and they improve steadily with quality and thoughtfulness. I have seen them come in and totally wing it, thinking that their talent would get them over, or that they could blow off the work they were supposed to do, probably thinking.. "Ah, I do it someday."
Follow Through in your stroke.
Follow Through in what you're doing.
Follow Through in your communications with people.
Follow Through with your intentions.
Follow Through completes a thought. It completes, makes whole, ties up the loose ends.
Follow Through continues something: a promise, a relationship, an idea.
Follow through with your undertakings. Finish them.
Like this post.
Have a great day.
Fin.
Monday, January 15, 2018
Freedom Through Discipline
Discipline is a powerful word. As youngsters we know it to mean something negative, like getting in trouble, a trip to the principal's office. As we get older, we begin to see it in a different light.
Discipline starts to mean self-control.
We see it play out in people's lives. We see those who have little discipline seem to go up and down in life. And, we see those who seem to have a lot of discipline seem to always come out ok, always be steady, always be prepared. And as a result, they are the ones who stack up the gains, the goals attained. You never see them too up or too down and they don't seem to be sweating anything. They seem at ease and sure of themselves. What they have created is:
Freedom Through Discipline.
Discipline is the methodology, methodical, way of living that leads to freedom. How interesting and simple! By 'restricting ourselves' and being disciplined, we create freedom. Freedom through discipline.
Freedom from what? From being discombobulated! From being hurried. From being unsure, unprepared, caught off guard. Freedom from the X factor of the unknown. You have created your life, you know the limits, you know the potential, you are on sure footing. At least as sure as one can be in this life.
Freedom from not knowing.
I remember how I felt when I was a child and could not yet read. It bothered me that I couldn't read, I felt left out and I wanted to know what everything said. I needed to know. I had to know. So I went beyond my school class and learned to read. I asked questions, I stumbled over words, but I got it. It didn't even feel like discipline, but it was.
Discipline creates freedom. Nothing is left to chance, therefore you can be an even greater improvisor.
Discipline is everything. Everything stems from it.
Discipline starts to mean self-control.
We see it play out in people's lives. We see those who have little discipline seem to go up and down in life. And, we see those who seem to have a lot of discipline seem to always come out ok, always be steady, always be prepared. And as a result, they are the ones who stack up the gains, the goals attained. You never see them too up or too down and they don't seem to be sweating anything. They seem at ease and sure of themselves. What they have created is:
Freedom Through Discipline.
Discipline is the methodology, methodical, way of living that leads to freedom. How interesting and simple! By 'restricting ourselves' and being disciplined, we create freedom. Freedom through discipline.
Freedom from what? From being discombobulated! From being hurried. From being unsure, unprepared, caught off guard. Freedom from the X factor of the unknown. You have created your life, you know the limits, you know the potential, you are on sure footing. At least as sure as one can be in this life.
Freedom from not knowing.
I remember how I felt when I was a child and could not yet read. It bothered me that I couldn't read, I felt left out and I wanted to know what everything said. I needed to know. I had to know. So I went beyond my school class and learned to read. I asked questions, I stumbled over words, but I got it. It didn't even feel like discipline, but it was.
Discipline creates freedom. Nothing is left to chance, therefore you can be an even greater improvisor.
Discipline is everything. Everything stems from it.
Saturday, April 15, 2017
Taking care of business
"It's called show business.... so show up and take care of your business."
We often think of "show business" as some unruly, willy-nilly, free-for-all. We think of entertainers as these untouchable and elevated people who have nothing to think of except their performances and they live in some kind of fantasy world where, if you "make it" then you're excused from overall responsibility.
Today, more than any other time, "show business", the word "business" is just as important, if not more, than the word "show".
Why? Because if the business doesn't get handled, then the show ain't happening. Period.
So what is business? It's everything, even the playing: returning correspondence via email, phone, texts. Being on time. Being absolutely prepared. Dressing correctly. Supporting and serving the music. Doing your job. Doing what you say you are going to do. And further... maintaining a vibrant social media presence, keeping up with the trends, etc....
I am reminded of all of this as I observe musicians in various states of preparedness for performances. I am amazed at some of them, how astute and ready they are. Others, it's the total opposite, they behave as if some magical force is going to tie up all the loose ends they haven't bothered to take care of.
When I'm a bandleader, I am acutely aware of the musicians I hire and their business standard. If I hire a player, and I've sent them music in advance, it's natural to expect them the have it prepared. And if they haven't prepared, I will never call them again. If they are prepared, then their number is on my list when it comes time to make calls.
It's so simple, yet so easy to slack off. Most of the things that a musician can do to make their playing experience better, to give themselves and the band a better chance of making some actual music, are not difficult but just require caring enough to do them. In my mind and in my experience, this is what separates great musicians from so-so musicians. The ones who know that if they want to sound good, then they have to know the music well in order to have a chance at making some good music, and also to show the leader some respect.
Do yourself a big favor. Handle your business, leave no stone unturned and you'll see a big difference in your life.
What You're Doing...
Today I was thinking about all the great drummers I've enjoyed so much over the years and how some of them transcend the idiom, some of them transcend the drums themselves.
Ever hear Roy Haynes play funk? Or Mel Lewis play a funky backbeat? Or hear Tony Williams play a rock feeling? It's still totally them, still has their fingerprint all over it, it's improvised and loose, but it's not "stock" by a long shot. It's their personality, their sound, their ideas, transcending the idiom.
You transcend the idiom by learning the vocabulary and the devices, the nuts and bolts, etc... then you're getting started.
On the flip side, check how the drummer on Marvin Gaye's "What's Goin' On" plays a jazzy three feel. Or check the loose feel that Stevie Wonder plays drums on a song like "Seems So Long"
Or check how Paul McCartney plays drums on his first two solo albums and also on "Chaos and Creation", the way they both orchestrate for the music when they play drums is so perfect, so natural and easy sounding.
They transcend the drums, by not thinking like drummers. How can they? They play all the instruments and the drums are just one part of it all.
How can drummers do this? To free themselves of the patternistic trappings of the trap set?
They are not thinking about what they are playing. They are thinking about what they are doing. And that function doesn't change all that much from idiom to idiom. I mean, in be-bop a drummer may be employing a conversational and melodic approach as opposed to in rock or funk a more beat oriented, repetitive approach. But essentially, they're doing the same thing. Serving the music. And hey, a rock song can have conversational/melodic drums in it, too, if the music asks, answer.
Always play for the music. The Melody. The Form. The changes. The dynamics. The statement being made. The musical vision, the composers intent. The energy.
Remember, it's not about what you're playing, it's about what you're doing.
The "Truth Kit"
As an impressionable kid of 12 years old, I used to marvel at fancy drum kits. The rock drummers that captivated my attention on MTV played colossal set-ups designed to wow audiences. Drum magazines capitalized on music video culture with advertisements of popular drummers perched atop unfathomably big set ups. Many of us young cats took the bait. I would add any piece I could get my hands on to my kit: cowbells, root-toms, extra cymbals... you name it, I tried it.
One day in band class I innocently asked my teacher, "What's the best drum kit out there?" I wanted to know, so I could start calculating how many lawns I'd have to mow to get that kit. His reply was short and simple
"The one with the best drummer playing it."
I felt kind of silly. But still, I persisted. My kit grew, and my playing, did not. I went to see a band who's drummer had an incredible drum rack system and his cymbals hung from the rack by chains. So, I drilled holes in my parents basement and hung my cymbals by chains. Poetically, it was a nightmare to try to set my kit up underneath the cymbals just right and I went back to using cymbal stands, just like all the mere mortals did. Another time I bought a set of electronic pads, but they just sounded too out of place against my acoustic drums and they quickly felt novel. I ditched those, too. Another time I bought all these fancy double ply heads and fancy "dead ringer" mufflers and the drums sounded so bad I tore the mufflers out, effectively wasting my hard earned money.
As a senior in high school I got a brass piccolo snare like my favorite drummer, but it sounded thin and abrasive, nothing like my hero's drum sounded on the records, and I quit using it and went back to my old no-name drum I'd had since grade school. I also tried using the same "power tom" sizes that the hero used, but the drums always sounded flat and weird, so I sold those too.
I learned the hard way. And, the expensive way.
I finally traded the fancy power tom kit in on an old, but very solid, vintage kit from the late 60s which I still own. Those drums have a tone and a soul. They are no nonsense and allowed me to get on with the business of just playing. I used those drums all around Kansas City and cats loved them. I used them on records and I still love the sound. I tried a few other kits here and there, but I stayed with those drums.
After moving to NYC and relinquishing my car to live in Manhattan, I paired my kit down even more. I couldn't carry toms around, or even a crash cymbal. So I learned to play on what cats call "The Truth Kit".
The truth kit exposed me, musically and physically.
For soloing, the Truth Kit was a major challenge. It exposed my then lack of rudimental foundation, forcing me to confront my weakness. I went on to study with Michael Carvin who helped me re-tool my playing from the ground up, and soloing on a lone snare drum then became no problem. The kit exposed me physically, too. I felt like there was nothing to hide behind and now knew what vocalists and guitarists feel like. It was a real trip to discover that. My creativity was exposed, not having toms and extra cymbals to play, I was forced to make it all happen on a snare, bass, hi-hat and cymbal. And you know what, you should be able to make it happen on that. What good will all the other stuff do you if you can't??
I need to add, that physically, with the Truth Kit, there's a piece for each limb: Right Hand = Ride Cymbal. Left Hand = Snare. Right Foot = Bass Drum. Left Food = Hi=Hat. Unless you are an octopus, then you've got your hands and feet full. If you need further evidence go take a look at the Jim Chapin book.
And I paid several years worth of dues on that kit, playing all kinds of gigs on it. And you know, it never let me down. I played jazz, brazillian, rock, funk and singer songwriter stuff on that kit all over NYC. Nobody ever, ever complained. In fact, many musicians complimented me on being able to make it happen on such a sparse kit. One time recently I was playing a Truth Kit and T.S. Monk was there checking the gig out. After the set he raved about it, saying that Max Roach had taught him the lesson of the Truth Kit.
Now, I'm not saying that every drummer should play on a Truth Kit, because if the music asks for multiple cymbals and toms, then do what you gotta do. But especially for young drummers, for whom money is scarce, my best advice is this: Get a solid kit, with standard sizes (meaning no extra deep toms and a modest size bass drum) and put some basic kind of heads on it and learn to deal with what you've got. If you're going to invest money, invest in quality cymbals, not more drums. Invest your thought and time into MUSIC... that is, your training. A fancy snare drum ain't gonna help you play rudiments any cleaner, or some expensive practice pad. Deal with the basic kit until you get out of high school. Cats that are constantly changing their kit around, they're usually not doing it for musical reasons. Learn to TUNE your drums. Learn about drumheads and how they work. Learn about cymbals and the various alloys. Study your rudiments and coordination. (See Charles Wilcoxon and Jim Chapin).
So, fast forward to now. My students ask me about drums. "Mr. Kane what are the best drums?" And you know the answer is! All the best to all you great young drummers.
-Matt
One day in band class I innocently asked my teacher, "What's the best drum kit out there?" I wanted to know, so I could start calculating how many lawns I'd have to mow to get that kit. His reply was short and simple
"The one with the best drummer playing it."
I felt kind of silly. But still, I persisted. My kit grew, and my playing, did not. I went to see a band who's drummer had an incredible drum rack system and his cymbals hung from the rack by chains. So, I drilled holes in my parents basement and hung my cymbals by chains. Poetically, it was a nightmare to try to set my kit up underneath the cymbals just right and I went back to using cymbal stands, just like all the mere mortals did. Another time I bought a set of electronic pads, but they just sounded too out of place against my acoustic drums and they quickly felt novel. I ditched those, too. Another time I bought all these fancy double ply heads and fancy "dead ringer" mufflers and the drums sounded so bad I tore the mufflers out, effectively wasting my hard earned money.
As a senior in high school I got a brass piccolo snare like my favorite drummer, but it sounded thin and abrasive, nothing like my hero's drum sounded on the records, and I quit using it and went back to my old no-name drum I'd had since grade school. I also tried using the same "power tom" sizes that the hero used, but the drums always sounded flat and weird, so I sold those too.
I learned the hard way. And, the expensive way.
I finally traded the fancy power tom kit in on an old, but very solid, vintage kit from the late 60s which I still own. Those drums have a tone and a soul. They are no nonsense and allowed me to get on with the business of just playing. I used those drums all around Kansas City and cats loved them. I used them on records and I still love the sound. I tried a few other kits here and there, but I stayed with those drums.
After moving to NYC and relinquishing my car to live in Manhattan, I paired my kit down even more. I couldn't carry toms around, or even a crash cymbal. So I learned to play on what cats call "The Truth Kit".
 |
| Playing the "truth-kit" in NYC with Eliane, Hagar Ben-Ari and Bill Ware |
For soloing, the Truth Kit was a major challenge. It exposed my then lack of rudimental foundation, forcing me to confront my weakness. I went on to study with Michael Carvin who helped me re-tool my playing from the ground up, and soloing on a lone snare drum then became no problem. The kit exposed me physically, too. I felt like there was nothing to hide behind and now knew what vocalists and guitarists feel like. It was a real trip to discover that. My creativity was exposed, not having toms and extra cymbals to play, I was forced to make it all happen on a snare, bass, hi-hat and cymbal. And you know what, you should be able to make it happen on that. What good will all the other stuff do you if you can't??
I need to add, that physically, with the Truth Kit, there's a piece for each limb: Right Hand = Ride Cymbal. Left Hand = Snare. Right Foot = Bass Drum. Left Food = Hi=Hat. Unless you are an octopus, then you've got your hands and feet full. If you need further evidence go take a look at the Jim Chapin book.
And I paid several years worth of dues on that kit, playing all kinds of gigs on it. And you know, it never let me down. I played jazz, brazillian, rock, funk and singer songwriter stuff on that kit all over NYC. Nobody ever, ever complained. In fact, many musicians complimented me on being able to make it happen on such a sparse kit. One time recently I was playing a Truth Kit and T.S. Monk was there checking the gig out. After the set he raved about it, saying that Max Roach had taught him the lesson of the Truth Kit.
Now, I'm not saying that every drummer should play on a Truth Kit, because if the music asks for multiple cymbals and toms, then do what you gotta do. But especially for young drummers, for whom money is scarce, my best advice is this: Get a solid kit, with standard sizes (meaning no extra deep toms and a modest size bass drum) and put some basic kind of heads on it and learn to deal with what you've got. If you're going to invest money, invest in quality cymbals, not more drums. Invest your thought and time into MUSIC... that is, your training. A fancy snare drum ain't gonna help you play rudiments any cleaner, or some expensive practice pad. Deal with the basic kit until you get out of high school. Cats that are constantly changing their kit around, they're usually not doing it for musical reasons. Learn to TUNE your drums. Learn about drumheads and how they work. Learn about cymbals and the various alloys. Study your rudiments and coordination. (See Charles Wilcoxon and Jim Chapin).
So, fast forward to now. My students ask me about drums. "Mr. Kane what are the best drums?" And you know the answer is! All the best to all you great young drummers.
-Matt
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