And the beat goes on… 14.05.09
Apparently, and I’m only
quoting a line from a boy in the film ‘The Commitments,’
drumming takes skill, precision and control.
According to him (I can’t remember his name) that ruled
Deco (he was the singer) out from ever being a drummer.
I don’t know why Deco (Andrew Strong) would ever have
wanted to be a drummer anyway. He had some voice and I
was reminded of it as I watched a re-run of ‘The
Commitments’ on one of the gazillion Sky movie channels
last week.
But it was the drummer line that really stuck in my head
after the film. You see earlier on that very same
evening I had spent maybe an hour or so playing in front
of a packed house at Slane as a stand in drummer with a
whole host of bands from Green Day to Fall Out Boy.
Naturally, this drumming session was in large part
imaginary. Well the whole packed house thing was, but
the actual drumming, well, I was actually drumming. Well
okay sort of. |
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And yes, this did take
place in an hour when there was no other residents in my
house, (my packed house performances usually take place
in an empty house) but that doesn’t really matter in any
case because I have one of those fancy electronic drum
kits that, when I plug in my headphones, nobody else can
hear.
Well, okay if you were in the house you might hear the
odd dull thud, but nothing like the boom, boom, bash
that you’d expect to hear if it was a traditional kit.
When I was growing up we had one of those in our house
and for some reason its usage was tolerated a whole lot
more than it probably should have been.
Perhaps it was because there had been a line of drummers
in my family that included my father and a couple of
older brothers (they could actually drum and were in a
pipe band), one of whom owned the kit that I used to
love bashing.
Unfortunately bashing was about as good as it got for me
and when my brother grew up and moved away to college,
the drum kit made an exit from the house too.
Not that it stopped me from bashing around with a pair
of drum sticks, battering on old books or on an old
wooden block that had one of those stick-on shoe soles
glued to it.
Oh yeah, I took some lessons too. Learned all about
triplets and paradiddles and rolls, but I’m not sure if
it was just lack of practice or that I was simply just
no good, but, well, I was just no good.
I did make it to the pipe band for a couple of years,
but only as a tenor drummer - they are the ones with the
fluffy sticks - but even when I left the temptation to
batter along with the music never left me.
In fact I’m thinking that the battering along to the
music with fingers or pens or wooden spoons or a couple
of knives prompted the rest of my family into thinking
they could get some peace if I had a drum kit. And even
better if I had one that they couldn’t hear!
After all they had persevered a few years ago while I
had painfully learned a few rudimentary beats on the
bodran. And then, there were the guitar lessons, (I’m
still practising away at the few chords I know). Come to
think of it all I need now is the mouth organ and I’d be
one of those one man band thingys.
Well, I would be if I could actually play any of them,
but I’m not going to let it stop me.
After all there are footballers out there who will go
kick around in a five-a-side pitch and imagine they are
Lionel Messi for an hour, even if they never played a
competitive game of football in their lives. |
Using the same theory I
reckon I should continue to play my live gigs in front
of packed houses in Slane or Wembley safe in the
knowledge that, compared to at least to the 5-a-side
footballers, nobody knows when those impromptu
performances take place.
Well, apart from two neighbours who might possibly be
able to see into the room where I have the drum kit.
But I’ll close the curtains the next day because I do
have the skill, precision and control at least to manage
that… |
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A DROP OF
PORTER is
the weekly
column of
Inishowen
Independent
editor,
Liam Porter. |
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