11 Life Lessons From Learning To Play Drums
A Brief History
Before about 6 months ago I’d never sat on a drum set. Okay technically I’m sure I did at some point but never where I actually knew what I was doing or where I was seriously trying to learn.
I’d met a few folks in my life who played and I’d always say how cool it was of them and how fun it seemed.
And if I’m being really honest looking back, the first boy I had a crush on in elementary school (waaaaaaaaaaayyyyyy back when) played drums. I remember asking my mom to buy me sticks off eBay so I could try to play on the seat with him when we were on the school bus together.
Fun for Fun’s Sake
Fast forward nearly two decades, I still never really took the time to dig in in a serious, methodological way, even though I always had the suspicion that I’d like it. Because, well, you know...life. Fun for the sake of fun isn’t ever much of a priority. Especially not when there’s tons of important stuff to do and then nothingness that needs to be done to “recover” from the doing of the important stuff.
That is, until this year!
I declared 2021 to be my year of Fun for Fun’s Sake (I have a sneaking suspicion this might extend past this year). Where’d that idea come from? Well, my theme for the year is “2021: Passion, Alive, Here.” and when I’m having fun, that’s a way I’m typically able to check off all those boxes.
One of the fun things I’ve dove (doven? diven?) into is learning to play drums.
Fast forward a little more than half a year, and it’s definitely one of my favorite things ever (I know I have a lot of favorite things, but this is a new top fav). And that’s coming from someone who isn’t even that great at it — there’s still so many basics and rudiments and paradiddles and paradiddle diddles to learn (I just think it’s cool that I know what those are now).
I’ve by no means arrived anywhere in terms of “success with drumming,” but that’s not the point. I’m not trying to be a touring drummer. I’m just trying to have fun.
I may not have arrived at any prodigy drummer status, but here’s where I have arrived so far:
A place where I’ve invested a chunk of time and commitment
A place I’ve grown to be really proud of myself and my efforts
A place where I’ve gotten okay enough that I can enjoy myself and have fun playing around
A place that makes me feel like I’ve stumbled upon a secret trap door to experience a new joy in my life through. It’s a channel back to the present moment every time I sit on that set. Time flies. I can’t think of anything else. It fills me up (psychologist and author Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi's would call this “Flow state.” I call it feeling so alive.)
“Yea, but how long did that take?”
So the benefits definitely speak for themselves. But the question probably stands: “Yea, that sounds great. But how much work/time did it take to achieve that?”
The golden question -- “What’s it cost? What’s the payoff?”
What’s funny is that if I look back, since January I’ve normally only practiced once a week for an hour or two (.....eeeeek my drum coach is probably face palming right now because I'm supposed to have been practicing my rudiments more often in between. I know, I know Thad!).
What stands out to me though is how amazing it is with how much progress can be made with such a relatively small time commitment. I didn’t have to totally reorganize my life to make it happen, it’s just an hour or two on a regular basis.
While that’s the time commitment, I guess what might be understated is the mental commitment it’s taken (and continues to require). I’ve joked before about how the day I get to play drums (I don’t have a set of my own, for which my neighbors should be quite thankful) is either the best or worst part of my week.
It’s true: when things are clicking, it’s magic, it’s a high, a thrill. But when it’s just not coming together — those days where I mentally understand what I’m supposed to do but just can’t seem to get my body to cooperate — it takes a conscious grit and effort to keep coming back to sit behind the kit again, hoping that maybe today will be the day it clicks.
Anyway, I’ve learned so much. It’s been a real treat to discover something new that so livens me up.
And even outside of that (I know, just wait, there’s more!), here’s 11 other lessons I’ve learned that extend to more than just drumming for me:
1. Embrace the drum face
Your face is going to look ridiculous when you first start playing. And it might be embarrassing, but don’t fight it. It’s your focus face. Just accept it as part of the process. It means you’re in the zone.
2. You’ll never listen to music the same way
Once you play drums, you’ll never hear music on the radio in the same way.
It just sounds so different: you really learn how to listen to the beat in a new way, and you hear the complexity of this undercurrent base beat that gives the jive to the whole song, and you’ll develop such a deeper appreciation for it.
3. Be a beginner (Don't be ashamed of the humble beginnings)
Those moments will make you so proud looking back. When you realize how much you struggled through something that now is automatic. Being more comfortable with the humble beginnings of learning something new is just a great character builder-- it keeps you humble and reminds you that there’s more for you to learn, and that you can in fact learn how to do things that are really difficult at first.
Being a beginner at anything always fills me with so much hope. I try to soak it up, because I know that if I stick with it, I won’t struggle with the same things a month from now that I’m struggling with today.
That’s true for me with drums, and also just for life. There’s always hope.
The important part for me is to not take myself so seriously in those early days. Don’t be afraid to laugh at yourself when you're trying to count to 4 and skip a number by accident because your brain is so overloaded, or when you accidentally lose your sticks in the middle of playing a beat.
And little wins are big wins-- celebrate them! That excitement will keep you coming back for the next session, and keep you persevering through the next challenge.
4. Slow down to speed up
I’ve had to get comfortable with going incredibly slow on new drum skills, whether it’s a new beat, tempo, drumming pattern, or rudiment. It’s vital: there’s no other way to learn it, at least for me, except to break it down into slow motion and counting to 4 over and over again verrrrrrrry veeeerrrrrrryyyyy slowly.
(There are some moments where there’s been so much to process in the moment between what my left hand, right hand, left foot, and right foot are doing that I literally can’t even count to 4 without messing up. It’s funny, and also a testament to exactly how much brain power drums takes.)
This has helped me build up the skill of being patient with myself, both with whatever I’m working on behind the set, or whatever I’m going through in my everyday life. Everything doesn’t need to be fast and figured out today, and that doesn’t mean I’m not still making progress.
Giving myself that grace is huge in helping me enjoy coming to the set (and life) everyday instead of feeling pressure and anxiety about it. I drop the expectations of where I’ll end up after a session, and instead commit to focusing on what I need to learn, for as long as I need to practice, without all the self-judgement about it. After all, the point is to challenge myself and have fun.
5. Getting back on the one
I can’t even tell you how much I love this drum concept of “getting back on the one.” It means that wherever you may be playing a beat, if you lose your way, if you lose the rhythm, if you get offbeat, it’s okay, because you always have the opportunity to get back on track on the first beat of the next measure (and that comes around every four beats) so there’s constantly an opportunity for correction.
It’s not about whether you get lost, it’s about whether you get back on the one.
I embarrassedly played and got lost while playing in front of a friend once and said something that stuck with me: “You have a unique ability of always getting back on the one.”
That’s been so powerful for me. It’s comforting that no matter how lost you think you are, there’s always “the one” beat coming back around the corner for you to have an opportunity to course correct.
Of course, this isn’t just about drums. I love this concept so much.
6. Settle in
Ahhhh! This one is so big, so impactful for me. The concept of “settling in.” When I’m first learning a new beat or technique, I tend to be very formulaic, it’s very structured, and it has to be, it’s completely foreign to me.
But after I practice it for a while, this moment comes when if I want to get better, I need to let go a little bit. I need to settle in and trust that I’ve got it, my body knows what it needs to do, and now I just need to feel it out. And then when I let my body settle in and feel out the same exact beat or groove, it’s a night and day improvement in how it sounds. And those are the moments that feel the best, too. That moment of letting go, and trusting that it’ll all come together in a way that feels right.
Ahhhh. It’s such a good feeling. There’s lots more ways I apply this concept outside of drumming that I’ll write at some other point, but for now, it’s just a reminder that I can chill out. Ride the wave. You’re doing better than you think. Just feel it out and trust, and not only will the end product be so much better, but I’ll feel better doing it, too.
7. Let loose, go nuts!
I know I’ve already talked all about the fun that drums have given me. But there’s another piece of this that I've struggled with -- that’s letting loose.
This has been surprisingly hard for me. Many drum sessions my drum coach has me start by throwing out the rulebook, and to just play along to a song-- He tells me to go wild, go nuts, just let loose, and have fun with it.
It helps when I see it modeled-- sometimes I see Coach sit behind the set and go nuts to a song, totally unplanned, and it gives me permission to go nuts and make mistakes too. This has been one way I’ve learned more about how it’s okay to make plenty of mistakes in the process, but to just have fun, try something new. After all, I’m just getting my body warmed up and ready to move for the session.
8. Dive deep: Welcome to a new world
The more you start to dive into drums (or any new skill), the more you’ll discover that there is to learn. There are intricacies to what mastery really looks like. It can really start to feel like a new world with all the terminology, types of stick wood and weight and styles, rebounds, mechanics, accents, ghost notes, techniques, drills — it’s a lot.
The deeper you dive, the more you’ll realize you don’t know. And that can be overwhelming, or exciting, it’s up to you. For me, I approach drums as fun, not work, so I love anything new I can learn without putting on pressure on myself to know it all.
9. Find someone to show you the ropes: It’s worth it
I doubt I would’ve even stuck with drums this long if I didn’t have a coach beside me showing me what I should focus on first. Whether that’s a friend of yours (who has undying patience- and if they do, buy them dinner whenever you can) or a teacher that you invest in lessons with, it’s a game changer in not only your skills, but also your enjoyment of the process.
When you’re brand new to the drum world, it’s enough to just learn a new skill, never mind to be able to decide what you need to focus on first. Have someone else who actually knows a thing or two tell you what they see as your strengths and opportunities for growth.
When you’re new, you’re foreign to it all and probably wouldn’t know for yourself anyway, and oh the energy and time that could be wasted by not getting a fresh perspective on what could really up your game with something you’re working through.
10. Opportunities to connect with new people
Along with the relationship you’ll build with getting a friend or teacher to coach you through drums, in my experience there’s also an instant bond with other folks who I find out are drummers, too.
For me, it’s helped me form some random connections, like the drumming street performer on the Las Vegas strip, or the houseless guy who was drumming in Santa Monica pier in LA. You just relate to-- yea, when you’re drumming, you’re in a different zone. Who wouldn’t want to be in that?
You’re a part of a community, it’s a bond, even if you don’t fully know them. And when that community mourns the loss of a well-respected drummer, like Joey from Slipknot just last month, you grieve along with them. After all, he paved a new path of what’s possible in the drum world. You start to appreciate people like that because you realize what they made more accessible or respected.
11. Guitar Centers are my new best friend
I stop at a Guitar Center whenever I want an impromptu jam session. They normally have a set that is available for anyone to jam out on. My neighbors are thankful for this as well. I’ve considered investing in an electric set (and even heard about ways to soundproof/dampen a regular set), but living in an apartment, I’m not in a rush to be that neighbor, so thank goodness for Guitar Centers (I love you).