Guitar Center Drum-Off 2007

I entered the largest drum-solo competition in the country with nothing but a cloud of pessimism and doubt weighing on my shoulders. "Why bother?" I asked myself. I am simply not a soloist...I've never given a solo in public outside of the pretense of being in a band, and all of my practice revolves around drumming to music, with musicians, or as some means to an end with a band. In this case, I was on my own from the second I took the stage.

The competition, run by Guitar Center, starts store-wide, then goes to the district, the region, and finally the national competition (only 6 drummers make it that far). As I arrived (late) at the Guitar Center in East Brunswick on Wednesday, I was clammy and scared. What if I choked? I had been drilling myself hard for weeks to get my chops up to speed, but what if I just hadn't been able to grow quickly enough? Would I embarrass myself? Would anyone even care that I had played?

I looked around at my competition. A middle aged Russian man, a 300 pound mullet-head, a 19-year-old, a pear-shaped punk drummer, a nice guy named Chris (no complaints about Chris), and an African-American fellow named Ahmed who just exuded confidence and nastiness behind the kit.

Russian guy dropped his sticks twice, mullet was surprisingly agile for his size...and now my turn.

I rolled into the funkiest of grooves, riding the hi-hats and snare with my right hand, the bell with my left hand, and keeping a hip-hop beat with my bass drum. I started out nice a soft, and slowly built up and traded 4s with myself, then 5s, and all the way through 10s until I was crashing on the cymbals every other beat. The crowd went wild, started clapping, and then I stripped it down to a cascara beat (thanks Alejandro), then some Afro-Cuban on the cowbell, and eventually a quick samba. This Latin section was my plan all along, but I wasn't feeling it so I quickly moved on. I know this is all very technical, but the point is, I used some variety and got the crowd going. The solo can only last 3 minutes, and when I am in the zone it's hard to get out. I missed my 30-seconds-left signal, and was brought to an abrupt stop about 10 seconds too soon...before I got to my grand finale of a drum roll on 2 different drums at the same time. A crushing blow!

I spent about 5 minutes after my set crying in the bathroom...no not really! I was disappointed about my poor showing during the Latin section and my lack of finale, but after that wore off I was thrilled! One Guitar Center employee told me I "really brought the funk." Did I have a chance? I don't know, but I was nervous as hell...5 drummers left, and I had raised the bar for them all.

19-year-old was solid, but clearly 19 (3 years makes a big difference), pear-punk did a one handed drum roll (impossible!) and not much else...but Chris and Ahmed blew me away. Great groove, solid chops, original solos. There was no way I could be in the top 2 and advance to the store finals...or was there?

As the judges tallied their votes and I sat satisfied but not confident with my fellow competitors, my nervousness melted into pride. I had given myself a chance...way more than this non-soloist had thought of himself a few weeks ago. Even that morning as I practiced the general ideas that I planned out for myself I couldn't seem to capture the essence of what a solo should be...full of tension and control and finesse. Once I got behind the Guitar Center kit, though, the adrenaline just took over and brought me to my happy place.

As the winners were announced, I wasn't at all surprised to hear that there would indeed be no advancement to the store finals for me. But I was surprised that I wasn't bitter or disappointed (well...only a little). Instead I felt impressed that I had even had the balls to get up there in the first place!

Ahmed and 300-pound-man came in first and second, respectively. Fat guy? Really? Well, OK judges, but I thought this was the Guitar Center Drum-Off, not the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest. I would've been fine getting beaten by Chris, but fat guy? No, I'm not feeling bitter at all.

The Cutting Room

Four months? Do I dare have the audacity...nay...the cojones to just jump right back in as if a long long beat had not been skipped? I have a music blog here, and I went to Bonnaroo, but wrote not a word. In this blog I did not comment on my musical exploits this summer, my decision to pursue music as a career, my undying-and-sort-of-creepy love for John Mayer (and his collaboration with DMB just last week), or any other of the various sonically orgasmic moments that have graced the past four months of my life. Why? I've definitely had the time, and I've definitely thought about doing it. Truth be told, I'm a lazy bastard and I didn't think I would miss it.

But, here we are, all those months later and still I've got things to say. So, to those of you who know this place I proclaim a hearty 'Welcome back!' and to those of you who are just reading this rambling mess for the first time, I say 'Good luck!'

For the past three Mondays (four minus Labor Day), I have been attending a late-night open jam session at The Cutting Room in New York (W 24th b/w Broadway and 6th). It is run by the semilegendary Richie Cannatta, who spent many years as Billy Joel's saxophonist. Between Mr. Cannatta and another frequent visitor, the aforementioned-man-crush John Mayer, I could not resist attending when I found out about the jam from one of the sound engineers at a gig (Porky's in midtown).

So, every Monday at 11:30, I show up at TCR and put my currently meaningless name on a list of about 30 drummers, keyboardists, guitarists, various hornists, and singers in the hopes that the director of the jam, Lisa Miller, will call me up for a tune befitting my listed genres (jazz, funk, blues, classic rock, Latin).

Week 1: The jam begins at midnight, and I am on stage by 2:00am. Unfortunately, some little tart named Meredith requests 'Hit Me With Your Best Shot' by Pat Bennatar as the song to "jam" on. Richie looks at my terrified, angry face and asks, "You know 'Hit Me With Your Wet Snot?" At which point I laugh in his face, say of course, sit behind the kit, and make an obviously sarcastic joke about how confident I am that I can "nail this." Nail it I did...if 'it' means my coffin. Note to self and all others who attend the session with me in the future: NO 80s TUNES FOR ME...EVER.

Week 2: The jam begins at half-midnight (12:30am for all you non-Londoners), which is a bit late. I sign up with Lisa, who doesn't remember me at all. 2:30 rolls around and I still have not been called up to play. The house jammers retake the stage, signaling the disappointing end to my night...Doug and I leave lankily and bitterly, respectively.

Week 3: Labor Day...club is dark.

Week 4: The jam begins late, again, at closer to 1:00am. A bad sign for the lesser known jammers, such as myself. I sign up again with the Lovely Lisa, who almost remembers me right off the bat, sort of remembers me when I say that my name is Jake and I'm a drummer, and then really remembers me once I mention 'Hit Me With Your Wet Snot.' I say, "It wasn't really my bag," to which she responds, "Yea...I remember that, too." Lesson of the day: First impressions are important...don't pretend to know a Pat Benatar song when you hate the 80s. Anyway...Lisa announces a disclaimer that she will "try to get everyone up" but not to be mad if we don't make it. I speak with her, she says she'll do her best to get me up, and at 2:45 I have still not taken el stageo (that's Spanish for 'the stage'). I tell Lisa I will be seeing her next week, and drive back to Jersey...in bed by 4:00am, and up again at 8:00 for work. If this is the next 30-50 years of my life, I can't fucking wait.

All of that being said, I am taking reservations from those who wish to accompany me from 12:00-3:00am on Mondays to TCR. Any takers?

P.S. Check out that video at the bottom right of the 'Defensive Britney Spears Fan.' [Note: Video no longer posted] Is that not one of the funniest, most disturbing things you've ever seen? I was going to write an entire post on Britney and her VMA mess, but after seeing that video and the threats to all media personnel who are critical of the poor, poor Ms. Spears, I thought better of it.