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a convenient settlement

my apologies if i'm about to tell you stuff you already know, but you can perhaps imagine the difficulties of standing atop a virtual soap-box, making pronouncements to an audience of whose proclivities i effectively know nought. and in order that i manage to make the point i'm trying to make, fear i must make use of comparisons that sit well with me, in the vain hope that they might make some sense to those of you on the other side of the fence. and though i can imagine the gasps of 'oh no, not again', there are drums involved once again.

though contained within our smart tv is unfettered access to netflix, i find occasional evening entertainment, when normal television is found wanting (more evenings than i'd prefer) by perusing numerous youtube videos. i'm sure it would bolster my street cred if i could relate that these are of a velocipedinal nature, but in point of fact, many of them are jazz concerts, or the freakishly astonishing technical abilities of the upper echelon of the percussion genre.

a gentleman who sits easily within the latter category, is american-based, austrian drummer, thomas lang. though there are many who can equal his hand dexterity, rumbling across his cymbals and toms with consummate ease, mr lang's claim to fame would have to be that of his double bass drum technique. this man can play patterns with his feet that most of us would struggle (and i really do mean struggle) to accomplish with hands and a pair of sticks.

i have one bass drum pedal actuated by my non-too athletic right foot, a limb that has been trying to emulate a john bonham (led zeppelin) pattern since i was a teenager. sadly, without the success for which i have been searching.

the way the music industry is set up these days, very few musicians are to be found in the same location with each other when recording. many a modern drummer is required to have their own, fully-equipped studio, not just for practise, but for recording too. therefore, were i to have reached the professional ranks, it would be incumbent upon me to not only afford the ability to play and read, but to produce studio quality recordings of my work. to take mr lang as the perfect example, musicians will generally send him a file of their guitar or keyboard musings, to which he will add his drumming, before returning a digital file when completed.

as an aside, only yesterday did i note keith carlock, steely dan's touring drummer, posting on twitter to advertise his availability for recording projects. carlock is amongst the world's finest drummers; if he's actively looking for work, you can but imagine the havoc that covid-19 has wreaked upon the life of the studio musician.

however, having watched, on youtube, thomas lang recording a complex drum part for a computer game soundtrack, while apparently reading a score, not only was i humbled by his astonishing abilities, but enthused that i should perhaps indulge in some serious practice of my own. yet only a matter of hours later, i found myself listening to a levon helm (the band) album from 1980, entitled 'american son'. across the first three songs on the album, such was the simplicity of levon helm's drumming, that i doubt he deviated from the simple rhythm more than once or twice. fills were conspicuous by their absence.

and though i would dearly love to be favourably compared with either thomas lang or keith carlock, while having engaged in serious study of both tony williams and elvin jones, in reality, the few gigs i manage to find these days, are a darned sight closer to levon helm than any of the above mentioned drummers. though there is nothing wrong with ambition and the wish to better one's status, there does come a time in life when i think it only right and proper to accept that the phone is very unlikely to be ringing, offering a world tour with john mclaughlin or wynton marsalis.

many, many years ago, when rapha sponsored their own rapha condor domestic cycle team, i received a team photo from imperial works into which i photoshopped myself, replete with team kit, purporting in the accompanying article, that i was indeed, a bona-fide member. the spurious feature ended with my commenting that despite several e-mails and unreturned phone messages, manager john herety had yet to send me my training or race programme for the season.

yet, in similar manner to the possibilities available to the earnest and intrepid percussionist, hours and kilometres aboard the bicycle attacked with fervour, could conceivably hone my pedalling abilities close to that of the best of my age group on the domestic scene (always allowing for a soupcon of artistic licence). to be honest, it might be a great deal of fun trying, though i fear the spirit may be more willing than the physical abilities at my command. but, given my age and location, would there be any real point in so doing? considering the prevaling winds that strafe the principality, there's a minimum level of physical endurance required simply to move forward in the face of galeforce winds. and i wouldn't be surprised that such endurance might be a tad more than required in more sheltered regions.

however, we hold no races or time-trials this side of the ferry terminal at kennacraig, and the likelihood of that changing is slim to none at all. without a car and endless finance, the chances of my travelling regularly to the mainland to satisfy any latent competitive instinct will doubtless fare every bit the same. in short, the only impetus to ride more quickly would come either from my peers, or myself.

so, rather than potentially attempting to emulate either peter sagan or egan bernal (as if), i am content to set my sights considerably lower, no doubt a realisation that has impressed itself upon many of you reading this. aside from being a fine singer, levon helm provided a level of drumming that is much admired throughout the percussive community. there would be no shame, or accusations of indolence, if i admitted that i was now endeavouring to emulate his economy of style, with the emphasis placed on the latter. and, if truth be told, that would probably be a far more sensible notion, than continuing to believe i am the hebridean bill bruford or vinnie colaiuta.

so, no matter the number of articles to appear in the cycling press offering strict nutritional advice, proclaiming the annual mileage at which i should be aiming, or offering to educate me as to the perfect way to climb mont ventoux or alpe d'huez, actually enjoying my bike riding these days is a great deal less onerous. provided i can reach home on sunday lunchtime before mrs washingmachinepost has need of calling out the coastguard, all is well with the world.

monday 6 july 2020