The natural and unencumbered flow of form, energy and ideas in the physical, emotional or spiritual realms is the currency with which we trade and share who we are at the deepest level.
The following essay is Chapter 5 from
Drummer's Insight, the Meta Pursuit of Musicianship and Meaning
Music is the active engagement with and arrangement of sounds produced within a cultural context for the creative collaboration of beauty, form and emotion. Put simply, it is pleasure of sound. The practical tools and methods used to accomplish this are what we call technique.
Technique is how we do what we do. To use technique is to work with some basic laws of nature in meeting specific physical demands of the music. When met effortlessly and fluidly, with a great sound and feel, then we have proper technique.
Making the choice to work on technique ought to come simply from the desire to make musical ideas feel and sound better; from the observation that musical ideas may not be working as well as they could. Technical understanding helps us design an economy of movement so ideas are communicated clearly and easily. We make a conscious effort to use and develop our touch and hearing to a finer degree. Done with proper cognitive engagement, it’s like a self-sharpening tool. The more we use our internal skills to sound good, the sharper the skills become. And this refines our touch even further.
The creative music we play on the drumset covers the full range between emotional stability and musical abandon - and in some cases, musical instability and emotional abandon. What a song requires includes everything from subtle embellishment to mayhem, all while simultaneously holding down the groove. It is an undertaking involving unwavering presence of mind and improvisational wisdom. Technical skills are simply the deliverance system for our ideas. It’s important to remember that it’s the musical content that matters, and that technique brings clarity to the music.
Approach technique by asking yourself what you are trying to do. Specifically, what ideas do you wish to execute that are not as comfortable or fluid as they can be? Rather than learning techniques simply to learn techniques, start from actual problems and situations which can be addressed by finding the corresponding or appropriate techniques. Working backwards from musical ideas addresses problems directly, we better understand the mechanics, and we instantly connect the technique to music.
Working from a musical mindset differs from simply learning established techniques in that we understand how technique facilitates the aesthetic art of music, that it is the scaffolding which supports the physical expression of aesthetic content. Its purpose is to support content within context, rather than be content on its own. Technique without content that holds musical interest is simply technique.
Unfortunately, in drumset pedagogy, an obsession with technique has taken precedence within the complex mix of what makes a drummer a musician, and of what makes a musician an artist. When it comes to technique, drummers sometimes lose sight of the more important aspects of musicianship, such as putting music first - being creative, supportive and collaborative.
I believe the reason that technique receives so much energy and attention is due to the fact that technique as we know it is one of the few tangible and therefore teachable aspects of learning drums. Drummers and percussionists come to believe that technique is the primary component of drumming and that perfection and precision are the highest virtues.
In this way they become craftsmen or women, highly skilled yet having forgone the creative contributive connection that lies at the heart of American collaborative music.
The vast majority of what we must bring to music is, by and large, not taught by teachers, books, or videos. That is, the music is the teacher. Let me say that again with emphasis. The music is the teacher. In addition, the things that feed our humanness and subsequently our musicianship are the things we discover by living deeply, by digging deep within ourselves, from absorbing the music, and knowing the instrument inside and out. In the broad range of skills – touch, tone, feel and intuition – the emphasis on technique can eclipse these aesthetic and human elements.
Our artistry is a reflection of our very humanity. Our humanity represents our humanness: creativity, compassion, empathy, self-reflection, wisdom and love; our aesthetic and collaborative sense, the desire to be our best and our need for connectedness. Intangibles such as creativity, improvisation, musical instincts and intuition, talent, touch, listening skill, experience, personal discipline, and cultural awareness, are assimilated from years of playing and listening to the music.
Thus our musicianship is informed by our sensibilities, and it is our sensibilities which hold great value within the context of music and beyond.
To ignore the unseen, to not acknowledge or to discount the presence and importance of the things which cannot be easily measured or quantified is to hold a Cartesian world view, one which is void of the essence of what it means to be human. Not everything can be explained. Being of scientific and artistic mind is to inquire into the unknown, and to acknowledge the indefinable world.
E. F. Schumacher puts it this way in his 1977 Guide for the Perplexed, “if I limit myself to knowledge that I consider true beyond doubt, I minimize the risk of error, but at the same time I maximize the risk of missing out on what may be the subtlest, most important and rewarding things in life” (p. 3).
As music artists it is our responsibility to continually attempt to get closer to that which we believe might hold truth. Organically finding the technique that allows our ideas to resonate freely is a kind of truth. The natural and unencumbered flow of form, energy and ideas in the physical, emotional or spiritual realms is the currency with which we trade and share who we are at the deepest level.
I will spare the reader a discussion on the different types of technique, how they work or how to play them. This information is ubiquitous and widely available. Instead, working autonomously by digging and discovering answers for ourselves, while seeking sound advice at the proper time in the learning process as needed, is most effective in making the proper musical and internal connections.
Working autonomously, we identify musical problem areas and discover for ourselves how to overcome them in order to reach a state of fluidity and ease. Each unique situation means that we have to organically seek an understanding of ourselves as instrument.
With eyes and ears wide open, we use attentiveness, curiosity, experience and problem-solving skills. That process supports and enables the sensibilities of our musicality. Once this is fully understood, it is easy to see the path forward.
Technique that comes as a result of wanting to make something work better can be quickly assimilated into our skill set and applied more broadly and naturally than mastering a technique in isolation. It is common to think that loads of repetition magically makes something better. In fact repetition, when done mindlessly, reinforces the way we are already playing. It is not progress, but rather a kind of reinforcement.
In the moment, it is up to us to solve problems and find answers via the connections we make through continuous inquiry. We make something feel and sound better through conscious, active engagement. By digging deeply to understand the mechanics required to make what we play more fluid, we can then take intelligent steps in the right direction - steps that originate in our own reasoning. We grow by making our own connections and reaching an understanding of how and why something either works or does not.
In this way we are responding to the needs of the source material rather than merely using technique on its own.
Instead of forcing something by simply playing it stronger and faster - and permanently reinforcing poor technique in the process - we must consciously step in, take something apart and understand the basic physics at play. In this way we organically relate techniques to what we want to play rather than playing based on technique.
Popular techniques are well-suited for specific situations. A firm grasp of popularly used drumming techniques is necessary and useful. However, it is important to understand that there are limits to their use. When what we play comes only from the techniques we have learned, our creativity is limited to only what those techniques allow, often without our even realizing it.
Learning a wide variety of techniques broadens the range of possibilities, although we are still limited to what each technique allows. Learning techniques derived from creative ideas and from problems we encounter takes it even further in the right direction, since ideas come from imagination and are rooted in music rather than in technique itself. We are reaching with creativity rather than tools.
Connecting with the source material first - the musical idea - goes a long way in defining how we relate to the instrument. Putting music first defines our role in music within the context at large.
I think figuring out how to sound good is the most useful technique. I occasionally work on a good practice pad, like the classic Remo, or on just a pair of hi-hats because it emphasizes the bare bones of my touch. The limited sound of a pad or hats exposes my touch at its most basic level and brings to the fore the economy and efficiency of my movements, or lack of it. It reveals differences between right and left, and exposes discrepancies in spacing and feel.
Using the most basic tools as a workshop, such as the Single Beat Combinations in George Stone’s classic Stick Control (Stone, 1935), or any collection of sticking patterns, presents opportunities for the development of listening, control and touch. Since the patterns themselves are not intended to be memorized and applied literally, although they could be, the potential for overall improvement of listening, control and touch is of profound importance. Listening, control and touch is where we place our focus.
Rather than trying to memorize the right or left sticking patterns for the exercises, simply hear the rhythm that the sticking pattern creates, and play the pattern from ear. This is a useful tool for learning patterns quickly based on their rhythmic melody instead of fumbling with trying to remember right and left hand sticking patterns. In this way we make a direct connection via the ear to the rhythmic content instead of the more musically disconnected approach of dutifully memorizing when to play the left or right hand. We also train ourselves to recognize and assimilate rhythms more easily, not sticking patterns.
Once the rhythm is recognized and easily repeated, work to make the exercises sound like evenly spaced eighth-notes and nothing more. In other words, play each exercise so that the sticking pattern cannot be heard and all notes sound even and smooth.
Listen carefully and identify the subtle differences that cause one stick to sound different than the other. It may be we are playing one stick louder than the other, or we may be playing on two sonically different parts of the pad. Or perhaps we are holding one stick differently than the other.
And yet even when all these differences are addressed, we still may find that the pattern can still be heard. Ah, then the reason must be our spacing! Listen carefully and fix all minute discrepancies. Proper spacing of subdivisions, equal from hand to hand, contributes the most to an even sound. This is all part of the development of touch.
It is easy to make the hands sound different from one another. Working to make them sound the same has a transformative effect on our touch. Ironically, the skills we develop by making complex stickings sound even develop our touch to be more expressive and dynamic.
Another example to develop listening, control and touch is to work to make double-strokes in triplet subdivision rolls sound more like triplets than doubles in triplets. Make the triplet the dominant characteristic of the sound rather than the doubles. The same applies to doubles in sixteenth-note rolls. Make the sixteenth note the dominant aspect of the sound, not the doubles themselves. The challenge intensifies by playing the triplet or sixteenth-note doubles on two different surfaces, like a cymbal and snare or a bass and snare behind a ride cymbal beat. Obviously there are two notes on each surface, but the challenge is to make a more musical rhythmic line, one where the overall subdivision carries the musical idea, not the doubles.
Work with the spacing of notes to increase the clarity and emphasize the continuous flow of the subdivision, and go through all four combinations of doubles: RRLL, RLLR, LLRR, LRRL, in sixteenths or in eighth- or sixteenth-note triplets. Work to make it so that the proper spacing clarifies the time. These examples are simple starting points, and the idea ought to be expanded to make all our comping swing.
Working towards an even sound improves our dynamics and touch overall.
Well beyond technical precision and striving for perfection, technique gives ideas the clarity they need. Technique gives us what we need to create music with fluidity and sensitivity. Not thinking about technique, or any other self-conscious attention, in a performance allows our attention, receptivity, instincts and skills, our cognition, to be directed at the overall group sound.
Good technique gives us power in reserve. John Riley observes how the concept of headroom, or excess capacity, relates to our ability to play with ease and efficiency, while freeing us to use our reserve capacity for listening, creativity and our musical responsibilities (Riley, 2009). [i]
Although great players often play complex ideas, the overall flow is one of ease and effortlessness. Think: fluidity. When we play at maximum capacity, we are exhausting all of our resources. Listening, supporting the other musicians, and conversing with ease takes mental capacity and mastery on multiple levels. Developing our capabilities beyond what we might actually need gives us reserve capacity which we can then devote to other areas.
Having power in reserve positively influences our music in other ways as well. When we leave headroom in the music it imparts a feeling of potential. There is music in reserve. Not using all our power all the time conveys confident musicianship and makes the music a more engaging experience. Continuously playing at maximum level leaves nowhere to go but down. When we highlight everything, nothing stands out.
Developing technique makes all this possible when we maintain our connection with the clear communication of ideas within the context of music. Autonomous discovery of the mechanics that lie behind playing is more broadly applicable than merely learning established techniques on their own.
Rudiments
Snare drum rudiments, originating in Europe in the 17th century and migrating to North America, make up an established, fundamental, rhythmic vocabulary of drumming. They are the raw materials for our rearranging, merging, altering, accenting, modifying, stretching, orchestrating, etc. Altering and/or combining rudiments lets us speak with a modern voice using traditional vocabulary. This is usually done by adapting them in ways that create and inspire.
Although the acquisition of the rudimental language takes considerable effort on its own, it is just the first step. It is up to us to connect with, modify and integrate them within our own musical ideas.
As in learning technique, rudiments present a tangible focal requisite for learning drums. They are easily teachable and can sometimes obscure the importance of musicality. Although rudiments are typically used to build chops and develop technique, many drummers find it difficult to naturally incorporate learned rudimental vocabulary into actual music. We work hard to acquire the rudimental vocabulary, yet struggle with integrating it within a musical context.
Rudiments are not to be taken too literally. Written rudiments are dry and unmusical on their own. When learning and practicing rudiments exactly as presented, they do not assimilate into our playing as we would like.
Learn to think about rudimental vocabulary in fresh and creative ways. It is not necessary to blindly accept rudiments as gospel to be faithfully repeated verbatim. Inventing and improvising, recognizing and re-arranging require that we actively participate in the creative assemblage of rudiments with our ideas, personality, and experience.
Make time during practice to creatively integrate ideas through alteration. Any sticking pattern and rudiment can be recognized, altered, and applied.
By looking at seemingly set patterns in new ways - taking different perspectives – we open up possibilities for modification and application. With thinking that is more multi-dimensional we may begin to hear rudimental patterns as melodic phrases. This emphasizes the musical over the rudimental characteristic, and can lead to further creative developments.
The usefulness of something like the basic paradiddle lies in its essential component, the ability to play combinations of singles and doubles. When taken literally, the paradiddle in all its forms is predictable and repetitive.
One such example for developing the rhythmic melody is the para-para-diddle, para-para-diddle, paradiddle. When played verbatim, it is predictable and not so musical. Here are some ways to approach it to expand the basic idea creatively:
Remember to strive for clarity of a musical rhythmic idea rather than simple precision.
What you gain from practicing rudiments has benefits well beyond the rudiment itself. This applies to everything we practice. Intensive cognitive engagement during practice not only makes learning happen more quickly. It hones all of our internal sensibilities, which, in the larger scheme makes everything sound better.
As with all we do, our conscious engagement in the process is the missing link. Don’t believe that perfecting rudimental vocabulary is the end, for there is no end. Instinctively modify the vocabulary so they serve a particular musical function or purpose. In this way, the internal connection is deepened and we make a direct, musical connection on an emotional level, merging the idea and its execution. It becomes our own thing, an accessible, intuitive part of the vocabulary we use to converse and create.
Conscious, creative interpretations of basic rudiment forms let us speak clearly using familiar language to say something new in a unique way.
Fulcrum
Discussions of drumset technique often refer to a fulcrum: a specific point of leverage within the hand at which the stick pivots. To put it simply, in front of the fulcrum the stick goes up; while behind it, the stick goes down, and vice-versa. A fulcrum transfers momentum generated in the arm, wrist or fingers, to the front of the stick.
The fulcrum is typically taught as an oversimplified point between the thumb and the index finger, with the stick functioning like a see-saw between them. As we develop, we find that the entire delivery system is a bit more complex than that, and that there are more options. These options make flexible use of all the joints and available pivot points within the mechanism of what we call a stroke.
When we reduce our dependence on the index finger, even a little, it alters the perception that the fulcrum must be a single pinch point in the delivery system. It forces us to make better use of the other fingers in ways which open up a lot more possibilities. Going beyond that singular pivot point reveals that there are many possible locations for a fulcrum, and many more ways to propel and control the stick.
The basic principle of the mechanical device commonly referred to as the fulcrum operates using three relevant points: two counter-balance points and a central stationary pivot point (the fulcrum). Points on one side that are farther away from the fulcrum require less force to operate the device effectively (force multiplying), while points that are closer to the fulcrum require more force (distance multiplying).
Within our hand we can make use of either of these potential energy systems, depending on the distance from the fulcrum from which force is applied. That is, leverage applied from farther away from the fulcrum means that less force is required, while leverage applied close to the fulcrum requires more force.
The problem with the simple pinch-point fulcrum that is frequently taught to beginning drummers is that it omits the importance of the input of energy. Because of this, drummers play entirely from the arm or wrist and in some cases from the fulcrum itself. Tension from the pinch point tightens the wrist, hand and fingers. They use the index finger both as a fulcrum and to propel the stick, which consumes a lot of energy resources with little efficiency or control.
Keep in mind that a fulcrum is simply a pivot point. We must also be conscious of the energy we input through points either in front of or behind the fulcrum: behind it are the fingers which drive the stick and in front is the surface of the drum or cymbal. These opposing points feed and receive energy into the three-point system.
The fulcrum’s function within the wrist/hand/fingers triad is largely based on simple mechanical principles which transfer physical energy. While the mechanical principles may be unalterable, there are other factors which alter the range of possibilities.
To a certain degree, the interface of the wrist, hand and fingers with the drumstick can be influenced by the drummer’s hand shape – specifically, the size, the length of the fingers and their relationship to each other.
Not all hands share the same shape and there are significant differences. It’s not simply that some hands are big and some are small. The relationship of the joints within the entire system of joints varies from person to person and affects the individual’s functional movement of the drumstick.
These differences play a role in how the drumstick lays across the drummer’s fingers and how well it is ultimately controlled.
Within the hand we have at our disposal a remarkable fifteen different joints plus the fleshy spaces between them. Add the indispensable, multi-function, twisty-bendy wrist joint, plus the elbow and the shoulder and we have a sophisticated energy delivery and control system.
Since the hands are the ultimate interface with the drumstick, much of our focus is directed here, but all parts must work in concert for the efficient delivery of energy.
It’s also worth noting that neurological differences between the right and left hands mean that technique on one side may not be mirrored on the other. For most of us, the distinctions between the right and left side add another layer of complexity that must be continuously worked with and overcome. Not only does our non-dominant hand feel weaker, in some ways it simply doesn’t behave the same way as the dominant hand.
Let’s look at how energy is fed into and received through the fulcrum system.
The fulcrum is simply the transfer point of energy to and from the drum or cymbal. Energy or momentum is not generated from the fulcrum, but instead comes from how we drive the stick, in combination with other factors such as rebound. Energy originates behind the fulcrum, is transferred through the fulcrum, and then is received back into the hand in the form of rebound. This rebound energy travels back across the fulcrum to the driving point in the fingers and the process can be repeated.
Although we are focusing on what drives the stick downward, how the stick gets up in order to play the next note should also be considered. Rebound only is useful if we allow it. The fingers can certainly obstruct the free flow of movement of the drumstick. The fingers cannot lift the stick. This can only be done from the wrist or the arm, or with rebound. It’s useful to not depend on rebound, and to train ourselves to lift the stick while also working with rebound.
In understanding fulcrums, it’s helpful to understand what propels the drumstick. Much of the time energy is generated from the elbow using the larger muscle groups. This creates momentum, which can be sustained. Throughout the hand and fingers, contact points propel the stick - specific areas within the hand and/or fingers which drive the stick downward and subsequently receive that energy in return in the form of rebound. Become acquainted with the specific points which drive the stick so we can make the changes needed to gain more control and flexibility.
Don’t confuse the driving point with the actual fulcrum. The points at which energy is conveyed to the drumstick within the fingers or into the entire mechanism are the points which drive the stick. The drivers are located behind the fulcrum. The fulcrum itself does not generate energy, it can only transfer it. Drivers can be the points on the fingers, or the wrist, or the entire arm. A fulcrum is typically not stationary, but moves in accordance with the whip strokes generated in the arm.
Also, remember that the surface of the drum or cymbal, which is one part of the 3-point counter-balance mechanism, returns energy across the fulcrum back into the system in the form of rebound. Rebound is a beneficial resource, but we shouldn’t depend too much on it. Lifting the stick provides more control. Lifting the stick generates energy as well, which feeds energy to set the stick on the driving points. Rebound aside, lifting the stick can only be done with either the arm or wrist. The fingers themselves cannot lift the drumstick.
In front of the fulcrum we have the playing surface, the drum or cymbal. The receiver of our energy, the playing surface also returns that energy in the form of rebound. Yet it is behind the fulcrum that we directly engage the rest of the fingers, hand, wrist and arm to drive and control the stick. What happens here is of great importance. Here is where we add a powerful driver to the fulcrum: the component of leverage. All that lies behind the fulcrum, the fingers, hands, wrists, forearms, elbows, even the shoulders, are sources of power and control.
A brief rundown of some of the options for wrist position can be found at the back of this book.[ii] It’s important to understand these differences when trying to solve problems, such as, why the stick might be rebounding in a zig zag or going sideways.
All variables ought to be examined and understood in light of our own unique physique. We must consider hand shape and size, the dominant/weak hand relationship, and whatever it is we are trying to play.
In the course of playing, the technique we use and how we hold the drumsticks can change rapidly. Different musical situations require different modes of delivery; and these demands change by the second. Depending on the idea, the musical terrain or which part of the kit we play, plus factors such as dynamics, tone, or tempo, we may make use of three or four different techniques within one bar … all done un-consciously.
Instinctively making use of different techniques is advantageous to the fluid execution of our ideas. After 57 years of playing, I’m still finding new ways to play.
Wrist / hand / fingers – how wrist position affects energy transfer
In addition to differences in the fulcrum outlined in the previous section, a major contributing factor in our technique is wrist position. The wrist may be rotated in ways which place the palm facing upwards, all the way around 180° to the palm facing downwards or anywhere in between.
At the center of the multi-joint system (18 joints in all) in the arm, wrist, hand and fingers, we find the humble wrist, a highly flexible multi-angle joint. Since the wrist repeatedly transfers energy from the arm to the hand, absorbs a lot of impact, and contributes locomotion to all we do, it’s essential that we take care to use it wisely.
Some wrist positions offer little opportunity for contact with the drumstick within the hand while others maximize it. We may find that we use the pad of the fingers within the first knuckle of the middle finger, or use the fingertips of the middle, ring and little fingers aligned along the base of the stick; or we may lock the ring and little fingers around the stick, etc. The fulcrum ranges from a clear lever between the thumb and index fingers to rolling on the big curved pad of the thumb; it may pivot on the fleshy pad within the first knuckle of the middle finger. And in some cases, the entire arm acts as a fulcrum or even the wrist itself. To complicate matters even more, we may use all of the above in a variety of notes and surfaces.
In addition to being open to different types of fulcrums, we can gain a lot of insight into the mechanics of playing by paying attention to what happens behind the fulcrum. Many factors are involved in how we select and use appropriate technique: playing surfaces and angles of drums and cymbals, dynamic level, tone and tempo, etc. Much of this has to do with the wrist and the forearm, and in turn how these influence how we use the fingers.
We may use the wrist in a ‘vertical’ position, similar to a handshake with the palm facing inward, or in a more horizontal position like when we bounce a basketball, with palm facing downward. Generally we use the wrist in these two positions or somewhere in between. We may even play palm facing up, but the degree of control possible here is at a minimum.
Wrist positions have different functions, produce different outcomes, and no single position is appropriate for all playing situations. We may go from one position to another within one phrase.
The wide range of wrist positions has a significant bearing on the placement of our fingers in controlling the stick. The fingers in question are the middle finger, the ring finger and the little finger. Let’s call them the control fingers.
We can dramatically improve control by allowing the control fingers (middle, ring and little) to work naturally with the up and down movement of the stick behind the fulcrum within the hand.
It is natural for these three fingers to curl inward when relaxed. In contrast, pushing them out and straightening them creates tension in the hand and wrist. Pushing these fingers outward is a natural bodily reaction of the muscles to get out of the way of the up and down movement of the butt end of the stick. But if we rotate the wrist slightly, the natural curl of the fingers can be utilized to control and propel the stick.
Remember that behind the fulcrum, the stick moves opposite to its movement in front of the fulcrum. When the tip of the stick is going down, the butt end travels upward, and vice versa.
Take time to observe your own situation and see where these three fingers are when in the various wrist positions from palm-up to palm-down.
Here are a few positions and their consequences. First, with the wrist positioned so that the palm is facing upward and the control fingers relaxed so they are naturally curled, notice how these fingers naturally position themselves along the top of the stick. This finger position is largely undesirable, since the fingers now prevent the up and down movement of the drumstick. In this extreme position we, consciously or not, will straighten these three fingers to get them out of the way. Not only are the fingers now out of the range of control, we have created unnecessary tension. Plus the arm, wrist, and hand is in a zig-zag, and we must play by twisting the wrist.
This upward facing palm with little contact with the stick allows for a woody, open tone from the stick on a cymbal, but is largely useless for playing with conviction.
Next, turn the wrist slightly so the palm faces inward. Now the wrist is more vertically aligned, in more of a handshake position. This still places the fingertips in the upward path of the butt of the stick, but we can now make use of the area of the fingers within the first knuckles to respond to the movement on the underside of the stick. We begin to gain more control in feeding energy and regulating rebound where it should be - on the stick beneath the fulcrum within the hand. This places the thumb on top of the stick, which is a useful guide for rebound and creates an alternative fulcrum. This can be developed significantly for fast playing, but must be combined with an ultra-relaxed wrist. This position is commonly referred to as French grip.
When we rotate the wrist even more so the palm faces slightly downward, this changes the alignment of the fingers in a powerful way. Some refer to this as American grip. The hand position is now similar to that of inserting a key into a lock. The fingertips of the three control fingers are in alignment along the base of the butt of the stick. The force of leverage is greater in this position than in the two positions above.
In combination with a relaxed wrist, the control fingers can now complete the balance of energy behind the fulcrum. The fingers are used collectively or singly, not to directly manipulate notes one by one as in a “valve technique”, but to regulate the amount of movement of the stick by control the distance the stick can travel within the hand. In this way the control fingers act like a spring that regulate rebound and add energy so as to continue momentum – much like bouncing a basketball. The butt of the stick may be aligned in the space at the base of the hand. The fingers provide effortless control with minimal tension. Of course the elbow is the source of power, but in a more efficient manner.
Lastly, rotating the wrist a bit more places the wrist and palm of the hand in a horizontal position, where the palm is more or less parallel to the floor. Generally, this position offers the most power and sustained control, as in Moeller-type strokes. This horizontal position places the fingertips along the bottom edge of the drumstick, and provides the maximum amount of leverage potential within the hand. The butt of the stick may protrude from the side of the hand below the little finger.
As we can see, the position of the wrist affects which part of the control fingers we use.
Leverage plays a role that may be overlooked. On a fulcrum, leverage, or torque, is increased as we increase the distance from where the force is exerted. Of the five fingers in the hand, the third, fourth and fifth fingers have access to the strongest muscles in the arm. These fingers are also farthest from the fulcrum, which enables maximum leverage potential.
By contrast, the thumb and index fingers attach to tendons near the wrist in the outer part of the forearm and derive much of their power for pushing by using the leverage of the upper body. The third, fourth and fifth fingers attach to a complex and strong group of large muscles within the forearm, where there is tremendous strength for pulling.
Think of which fingers we rely on for strength when lifting a suitcase, climbing, even for bouncing a basketball. Hint: it’s not the thumb and index fingers.
Making use of the three control fingers provides more strength and control when needed, and enables a relaxed, solid, articulate and confident state of playing. When used in conjunction with the entire multi-joint group, the control fingers serve as a useful spring at the base of the stick. Control comes from a combination of following and controlling the stick in its up-and-down motion.
Don’t underestimate the power of the little finger. It has a lot of leverage potential, although we may feel the little finger has the least to contribute. When developed and trained to work naturally, it provides a great deal of power and control. Its leverage potential is due to its significant distance from the fulcrum and its close proximity to the bending of the wrist.
It takes practice to engage the fingers with the stick while simultaneously relaxing the wrist.
These wrist positions outlined above each have their place. Working on all of them gives us access to a wide variety of musical applications and ideas. They improve our touch, our dynamics, control, and generally facilitate our ideas more easily. How we use the wrist and fingers depends on what we are trying to do, but we must be careful not to let whatever technique we use limit us. When we gain insight into the mechanics involved, it will become easier to find our own answers.
Preparation
At any given time, regardless of what kind of stroke we have, it consists of both an up and a down motion. It’s a symbiotic relationship, by which the stick cannot go down until it has first gone up. But much of the time we focus attention to what happens prior to the stick striking a surface – we focus on the downward motion - when in fact what takes place immediately following a strike - the upward motion - is actually the first and most important half of the entire stroke.
The components of an entire stroke form a continuous and connected movement, rather than a series of individually linked movements. They are inter-dependent.
Here we will look at how up and down movements can be tied together so that we are always in the most effective position for what we are about to play next. At the same time we learn to play with uninterrupted momentum, which allows us to connect our notes in a fluid and musical way, without distraction or hesitation. This is not always necessary, such as when playing slow quarter notes, but is essential when playing continuous notes containing accents, doubles or a variety of orchestrations.
All strokes need some amount of stick height. We say “what goes up must come down”, and in the case of a drumstick, what goes down must have gone up. A stick can get into position above a drum or cymbal only by either rebound or lifting, or both. This may not always be happening in a fluid manner. Following a strike, we may sometimes keep the fingers closed. Whether intentional or not, this prevents the rebound from functioning naturally. Closing the fingers after a note prevents the rebound from completing its cycle naturally. It halts the upward motion of the tip, along with the corresponding downward motion of the butt of the stick in the hand. This results in interrupted momentum. This is fine until it isn’t.
Stick-lift is done via the wrist or forearm. The fingers cannot lift the stick. We either keep them somewhat closed and lift the stick with the hand via the wrist and forearm, or we open the fingers to allow for rebound. Understand and practice the functional difference between rebound and lift. I try to incorporate lift as much as possible, even when making use of rebound.
These movements can be incorporated into the full and complete up and down movement required for every note we play.
Be cognizant of when the stick must be lifted for uninterrupted flow. When playing slowly, the lift might not occur until well after the previous note and just before the next one. However, when notes are in quick succession, the upward stroke should be immediately tied to the hit.
In addition, part of developing our touch comes from an awareness of the fact that some strokes require more velocity and momentum than others. This means more height. Certain combinations of singles, doubles, triples and accents mean that the stick must come from a higher position ahead of those notes. In these cases, it is important that the stick is positioned properly in anticipation.
Make it a habit of getting the drumstick in the proper position for effortless execution ahead of what we will play. For example, accented notes, double strokes or buzzed notes need to carry more momentum. The stick must be high enough to execute the appropriate accent or provide the extra energy these types of notes need.
Work out the logistics of how the stick gets into its higher position by identifying precisely where the extra height is needed. From there, backtrack to find the preceding note that sets it up. On that preceding note, the stroke will need to be either a lift stroke or a rebound. If it’s an accent or a double, a rebound might not be enough, so teaching ourselves to intuitively lift is essential.
If it is not a natural part of our technique it can be. It just takes conscious and directed attention in practice to make these preparatory strokes a habit. Practice patterns that incorporate these ideas until it becomes a natural part of our playing.
Work out the usefulness of each of these four different strokes: full stroke, down stroke, tap, up stroke. Each has a particular function, and helps set up what will follow.
Think differently
Rhythmic lines need not be thought of as laid out against a repeating pattern, such as variations of bass drum notes against a steady hi hat and snare backbeat; or snare and bass comping patterns juxtaposed against the jazz ride cymbal pattern. We may envision patterns that we when first learning. However, it’s important to broaden our concept of rhythms in a more dimensional and musical way rather than viewing them as a grid upon which we insert variations.
It’s helpful to hear more musically, to pull back our focus a bit to be cognizant of the rhythmic contour or rhythmic melody. Rhythms have shapes that can best be heard creatively by listening carefully and not thinking in a grid-like fashion. Listen for particular interactions between different voices, and assimilate them so they become intuitive.
We can explore concepts of broken time and linear stickings. These help to orchestrate rhythmic ideas throughout the drumset more spatially as opposed to the limited juxtaposition of snare and bass drum variations against a steady ride cymbal beat. In the same way that rhythmic ideas can be expressed with a clave-based pulse without explicitly playing a clave pattern, ideas can instead be suspended and manipulated in a more fluid and dimensional way. They become less rigid and less stiff, and are more open to interpretation, embellishment and improvisation.
Once we are very comfortable and confident with our time we are then free to express melodic, multi-dimensional, conversational rhythmic ideas that flow more easily and more clearly. The content takes the lead rather than thinking in terms of patterns.
Break away from restrictions and free the hands and feet to play in ways which communicate rhythmic ideas more clearly and conceptually, rather than literally. Avoid thinking of layering parts that sit on a grid, or thinking that our limbs are ‘independent’ of one another.
Instead, view the entire rhythmic idea and its relation to the music as a thing unto itself: a three dimensional, inter-dependent visualization that is made up of sound, dynamics and spatial relationships within the context of time. These relationships can be thought of as being influenced by a gravitational exchange between spheres of sound.
Rather than being the sum of individual components such as the hi-hat or cymbal, bass and snare drum parts, work instead toward rhythmic ideas that have a fluid inter-connectedness, outlined clearly with few, if any, wasted or unnecessary notes. This leaves more space as well as more opportunities for creativity.
In his 2005 master’s thesis, Barry Elmes defines one of Elvin Jones’ essential contributions to jazz:
"While Jones seems to use the ride cymbal as the primary instrument to state his timekeeping phrases, the cymbal line alone does not reveal the whole story. In fact, he employs the ride cymbal in conjunction with (and not independent of) the other drum set components. In developing this approach, Jones created a unified concept that totally integrated the function of all four limbs into the expression of flowing rhythmic phrases. This integration redefined the role of ‘four-limb independence’. With Jones, it became a musical tool to serve his phrasing concept, rather than a technical goal of drum set performance" (p. 58).
Over time and through observation we begin to recognize our own natural mode of expression. We begin to intuit an essential, purposeful conveyance of rhythmic ideas in support of the music at that moment. We begin to clarify our own voice.
We may have worked for years to put things together in a grid-like fashion in our mind: steady eighth-notes on a hi-hat or playing the jazz ride pattern on the cymbal and ‘2’ and ‘4’ on the hi hat. There is nothing wrong with that. In fact, it is how we learn to put things together. But getting the time-feel deep inside us and away from being bound to expressing it our right hand releases us from the constraint of having to play time emphatically.
This departure away from being bound to lead-hand time-playing is part of our evolution on the instrument; it is an important distinction that goes to the heart of how we relate to time and music itself. This is not to say we shouldn’t play time, but rather that we must not be bound to it. Be free from the perceived requirement that we must play every note or pattern perfectly and with precision, or that one limb must continue while the other limb plays some of those same notes. Breaking free from this, our music becomes more idea based, more melodic, instead of being perfection-based. Our ideas become clearer and rhythms are more fluid, with less redundancy. What we play is more engaging and relatable.
In the same way that we improvise around a melody by acknowledgement, variation, modulation, harmony, departure and return, we can work with time and rhythm.
Thanks for reading.
--Brett F. Campbell, 2019
References
Elmes, B. W. (2005). Elvin Jones: Defining his essential contributions to jazz (Masters thesis). Toronto: York University.
John Riley, The Master Drummer DVD (Alfred Music, 2009)
Schumacher, E. F. (1977). A guide for the perplexed. New York: Harper Perennial.
Addendum
[i] John Riley and the concept of headroom: “There's a concept called headroom which comes from the automotive world. Headroom refers to excess capacity. So if you have a car that's capable of a maximum speed of 60mph, when you're going 60mph, that car is doing everything it's capable of and there is no excess capacity. A car capable of going 200mph just breezes along at 60 because it has all that headroom from 61 to 200 mph in reserve. The same concept applies in drumming. You want to have more capabilities than are required to perform your role in a band so that that role is almost physically effortless and so that your brain power can be dedicated to focusing on supporting the other musicians.”
[ii] Careful observation reveals a variety of points in the hand which can drive the stick. Most of the following examples below make important use of our opposable digit, the thumb.
Drummer's Insight, the Meta Pursuit of Musicianship and Meaning
Music is the active engagement with and arrangement of sounds produced within a cultural context for the creative collaboration of beauty, form and emotion. Put simply, it is pleasure of sound. The practical tools and methods used to accomplish this are what we call technique.
Technique is how we do what we do. To use technique is to work with some basic laws of nature in meeting specific physical demands of the music. When met effortlessly and fluidly, with a great sound and feel, then we have proper technique.
Making the choice to work on technique ought to come simply from the desire to make musical ideas feel and sound better; from the observation that musical ideas may not be working as well as they could. Technical understanding helps us design an economy of movement so ideas are communicated clearly and easily. We make a conscious effort to use and develop our touch and hearing to a finer degree. Done with proper cognitive engagement, it’s like a self-sharpening tool. The more we use our internal skills to sound good, the sharper the skills become. And this refines our touch even further.
The creative music we play on the drumset covers the full range between emotional stability and musical abandon - and in some cases, musical instability and emotional abandon. What a song requires includes everything from subtle embellishment to mayhem, all while simultaneously holding down the groove. It is an undertaking involving unwavering presence of mind and improvisational wisdom. Technical skills are simply the deliverance system for our ideas. It’s important to remember that it’s the musical content that matters, and that technique brings clarity to the music.
Approach technique by asking yourself what you are trying to do. Specifically, what ideas do you wish to execute that are not as comfortable or fluid as they can be? Rather than learning techniques simply to learn techniques, start from actual problems and situations which can be addressed by finding the corresponding or appropriate techniques. Working backwards from musical ideas addresses problems directly, we better understand the mechanics, and we instantly connect the technique to music.
Working from a musical mindset differs from simply learning established techniques in that we understand how technique facilitates the aesthetic art of music, that it is the scaffolding which supports the physical expression of aesthetic content. Its purpose is to support content within context, rather than be content on its own. Technique without content that holds musical interest is simply technique.
Unfortunately, in drumset pedagogy, an obsession with technique has taken precedence within the complex mix of what makes a drummer a musician, and of what makes a musician an artist. When it comes to technique, drummers sometimes lose sight of the more important aspects of musicianship, such as putting music first - being creative, supportive and collaborative.
I believe the reason that technique receives so much energy and attention is due to the fact that technique as we know it is one of the few tangible and therefore teachable aspects of learning drums. Drummers and percussionists come to believe that technique is the primary component of drumming and that perfection and precision are the highest virtues.
In this way they become craftsmen or women, highly skilled yet having forgone the creative contributive connection that lies at the heart of American collaborative music.
The vast majority of what we must bring to music is, by and large, not taught by teachers, books, or videos. That is, the music is the teacher. Let me say that again with emphasis. The music is the teacher. In addition, the things that feed our humanness and subsequently our musicianship are the things we discover by living deeply, by digging deep within ourselves, from absorbing the music, and knowing the instrument inside and out. In the broad range of skills – touch, tone, feel and intuition – the emphasis on technique can eclipse these aesthetic and human elements.
Our artistry is a reflection of our very humanity. Our humanity represents our humanness: creativity, compassion, empathy, self-reflection, wisdom and love; our aesthetic and collaborative sense, the desire to be our best and our need for connectedness. Intangibles such as creativity, improvisation, musical instincts and intuition, talent, touch, listening skill, experience, personal discipline, and cultural awareness, are assimilated from years of playing and listening to the music.
Thus our musicianship is informed by our sensibilities, and it is our sensibilities which hold great value within the context of music and beyond.
To ignore the unseen, to not acknowledge or to discount the presence and importance of the things which cannot be easily measured or quantified is to hold a Cartesian world view, one which is void of the essence of what it means to be human. Not everything can be explained. Being of scientific and artistic mind is to inquire into the unknown, and to acknowledge the indefinable world.
E. F. Schumacher puts it this way in his 1977 Guide for the Perplexed, “if I limit myself to knowledge that I consider true beyond doubt, I minimize the risk of error, but at the same time I maximize the risk of missing out on what may be the subtlest, most important and rewarding things in life” (p. 3).
As music artists it is our responsibility to continually attempt to get closer to that which we believe might hold truth. Organically finding the technique that allows our ideas to resonate freely is a kind of truth. The natural and unencumbered flow of form, energy and ideas in the physical, emotional or spiritual realms is the currency with which we trade and share who we are at the deepest level.
I will spare the reader a discussion on the different types of technique, how they work or how to play them. This information is ubiquitous and widely available. Instead, working autonomously by digging and discovering answers for ourselves, while seeking sound advice at the proper time in the learning process as needed, is most effective in making the proper musical and internal connections.
Working autonomously, we identify musical problem areas and discover for ourselves how to overcome them in order to reach a state of fluidity and ease. Each unique situation means that we have to organically seek an understanding of ourselves as instrument.
With eyes and ears wide open, we use attentiveness, curiosity, experience and problem-solving skills. That process supports and enables the sensibilities of our musicality. Once this is fully understood, it is easy to see the path forward.
Technique that comes as a result of wanting to make something work better can be quickly assimilated into our skill set and applied more broadly and naturally than mastering a technique in isolation. It is common to think that loads of repetition magically makes something better. In fact repetition, when done mindlessly, reinforces the way we are already playing. It is not progress, but rather a kind of reinforcement.
In the moment, it is up to us to solve problems and find answers via the connections we make through continuous inquiry. We make something feel and sound better through conscious, active engagement. By digging deeply to understand the mechanics required to make what we play more fluid, we can then take intelligent steps in the right direction - steps that originate in our own reasoning. We grow by making our own connections and reaching an understanding of how and why something either works or does not.
In this way we are responding to the needs of the source material rather than merely using technique on its own.
Instead of forcing something by simply playing it stronger and faster - and permanently reinforcing poor technique in the process - we must consciously step in, take something apart and understand the basic physics at play. In this way we organically relate techniques to what we want to play rather than playing based on technique.
Popular techniques are well-suited for specific situations. A firm grasp of popularly used drumming techniques is necessary and useful. However, it is important to understand that there are limits to their use. When what we play comes only from the techniques we have learned, our creativity is limited to only what those techniques allow, often without our even realizing it.
Learning a wide variety of techniques broadens the range of possibilities, although we are still limited to what each technique allows. Learning techniques derived from creative ideas and from problems we encounter takes it even further in the right direction, since ideas come from imagination and are rooted in music rather than in technique itself. We are reaching with creativity rather than tools.
Connecting with the source material first - the musical idea - goes a long way in defining how we relate to the instrument. Putting music first defines our role in music within the context at large.
I think figuring out how to sound good is the most useful technique. I occasionally work on a good practice pad, like the classic Remo, or on just a pair of hi-hats because it emphasizes the bare bones of my touch. The limited sound of a pad or hats exposes my touch at its most basic level and brings to the fore the economy and efficiency of my movements, or lack of it. It reveals differences between right and left, and exposes discrepancies in spacing and feel.
Using the most basic tools as a workshop, such as the Single Beat Combinations in George Stone’s classic Stick Control (Stone, 1935), or any collection of sticking patterns, presents opportunities for the development of listening, control and touch. Since the patterns themselves are not intended to be memorized and applied literally, although they could be, the potential for overall improvement of listening, control and touch is of profound importance. Listening, control and touch is where we place our focus.
Rather than trying to memorize the right or left sticking patterns for the exercises, simply hear the rhythm that the sticking pattern creates, and play the pattern from ear. This is a useful tool for learning patterns quickly based on their rhythmic melody instead of fumbling with trying to remember right and left hand sticking patterns. In this way we make a direct connection via the ear to the rhythmic content instead of the more musically disconnected approach of dutifully memorizing when to play the left or right hand. We also train ourselves to recognize and assimilate rhythms more easily, not sticking patterns.
Once the rhythm is recognized and easily repeated, work to make the exercises sound like evenly spaced eighth-notes and nothing more. In other words, play each exercise so that the sticking pattern cannot be heard and all notes sound even and smooth.
Listen carefully and identify the subtle differences that cause one stick to sound different than the other. It may be we are playing one stick louder than the other, or we may be playing on two sonically different parts of the pad. Or perhaps we are holding one stick differently than the other.
And yet even when all these differences are addressed, we still may find that the pattern can still be heard. Ah, then the reason must be our spacing! Listen carefully and fix all minute discrepancies. Proper spacing of subdivisions, equal from hand to hand, contributes the most to an even sound. This is all part of the development of touch.
It is easy to make the hands sound different from one another. Working to make them sound the same has a transformative effect on our touch. Ironically, the skills we develop by making complex stickings sound even develop our touch to be more expressive and dynamic.
Another example to develop listening, control and touch is to work to make double-strokes in triplet subdivision rolls sound more like triplets than doubles in triplets. Make the triplet the dominant characteristic of the sound rather than the doubles. The same applies to doubles in sixteenth-note rolls. Make the sixteenth note the dominant aspect of the sound, not the doubles themselves. The challenge intensifies by playing the triplet or sixteenth-note doubles on two different surfaces, like a cymbal and snare or a bass and snare behind a ride cymbal beat. Obviously there are two notes on each surface, but the challenge is to make a more musical rhythmic line, one where the overall subdivision carries the musical idea, not the doubles.
Work with the spacing of notes to increase the clarity and emphasize the continuous flow of the subdivision, and go through all four combinations of doubles: RRLL, RLLR, LLRR, LRRL, in sixteenths or in eighth- or sixteenth-note triplets. Work to make it so that the proper spacing clarifies the time. These examples are simple starting points, and the idea ought to be expanded to make all our comping swing.
Working towards an even sound improves our dynamics and touch overall.
Well beyond technical precision and striving for perfection, technique gives ideas the clarity they need. Technique gives us what we need to create music with fluidity and sensitivity. Not thinking about technique, or any other self-conscious attention, in a performance allows our attention, receptivity, instincts and skills, our cognition, to be directed at the overall group sound.
Good technique gives us power in reserve. John Riley observes how the concept of headroom, or excess capacity, relates to our ability to play with ease and efficiency, while freeing us to use our reserve capacity for listening, creativity and our musical responsibilities (Riley, 2009). [i]
Although great players often play complex ideas, the overall flow is one of ease and effortlessness. Think: fluidity. When we play at maximum capacity, we are exhausting all of our resources. Listening, supporting the other musicians, and conversing with ease takes mental capacity and mastery on multiple levels. Developing our capabilities beyond what we might actually need gives us reserve capacity which we can then devote to other areas.
Having power in reserve positively influences our music in other ways as well. When we leave headroom in the music it imparts a feeling of potential. There is music in reserve. Not using all our power all the time conveys confident musicianship and makes the music a more engaging experience. Continuously playing at maximum level leaves nowhere to go but down. When we highlight everything, nothing stands out.
Developing technique makes all this possible when we maintain our connection with the clear communication of ideas within the context of music. Autonomous discovery of the mechanics that lie behind playing is more broadly applicable than merely learning established techniques on their own.
Rudiments
Snare drum rudiments, originating in Europe in the 17th century and migrating to North America, make up an established, fundamental, rhythmic vocabulary of drumming. They are the raw materials for our rearranging, merging, altering, accenting, modifying, stretching, orchestrating, etc. Altering and/or combining rudiments lets us speak with a modern voice using traditional vocabulary. This is usually done by adapting them in ways that create and inspire.
Although the acquisition of the rudimental language takes considerable effort on its own, it is just the first step. It is up to us to connect with, modify and integrate them within our own musical ideas.
As in learning technique, rudiments present a tangible focal requisite for learning drums. They are easily teachable and can sometimes obscure the importance of musicality. Although rudiments are typically used to build chops and develop technique, many drummers find it difficult to naturally incorporate learned rudimental vocabulary into actual music. We work hard to acquire the rudimental vocabulary, yet struggle with integrating it within a musical context.
Rudiments are not to be taken too literally. Written rudiments are dry and unmusical on their own. When learning and practicing rudiments exactly as presented, they do not assimilate into our playing as we would like.
Learn to think about rudimental vocabulary in fresh and creative ways. It is not necessary to blindly accept rudiments as gospel to be faithfully repeated verbatim. Inventing and improvising, recognizing and re-arranging require that we actively participate in the creative assemblage of rudiments with our ideas, personality, and experience.
Make time during practice to creatively integrate ideas through alteration. Any sticking pattern and rudiment can be recognized, altered, and applied.
By looking at seemingly set patterns in new ways - taking different perspectives – we open up possibilities for modification and application. With thinking that is more multi-dimensional we may begin to hear rudimental patterns as melodic phrases. This emphasizes the musical over the rudimental characteristic, and can lead to further creative developments.
The usefulness of something like the basic paradiddle lies in its essential component, the ability to play combinations of singles and doubles. When taken literally, the paradiddle in all its forms is predictable and repetitive.
One such example for developing the rhythmic melody is the para-para-diddle, para-para-diddle, paradiddle. When played verbatim, it is predictable and not so musical. Here are some ways to approach it to expand the basic idea creatively:
- Listen for the melody of the rhythm; its shape or contour.
- Modify it to suit a triple or duple meter.
- Modify it to work within a backbeat or clave-based pulse.
- Explore orchestrations. Voice the rudiment in different ways.
- Incorporate half-time feels.
- Try different accent points.
- Since the pattern is dominantly linear (no unison notes), add unison strokes.
- Extract the core melodic/rhythmic components and minimize extraneous notes while embellishing around the core.
- Let the new idea take on a life of its own. We need not strictly adhere to the original rudimental form.
- Add or take away elements of the rudiment.
- Use the wide range of sounds available within our instrument.
Remember to strive for clarity of a musical rhythmic idea rather than simple precision.
What you gain from practicing rudiments has benefits well beyond the rudiment itself. This applies to everything we practice. Intensive cognitive engagement during practice not only makes learning happen more quickly. It hones all of our internal sensibilities, which, in the larger scheme makes everything sound better.
As with all we do, our conscious engagement in the process is the missing link. Don’t believe that perfecting rudimental vocabulary is the end, for there is no end. Instinctively modify the vocabulary so they serve a particular musical function or purpose. In this way, the internal connection is deepened and we make a direct, musical connection on an emotional level, merging the idea and its execution. It becomes our own thing, an accessible, intuitive part of the vocabulary we use to converse and create.
Conscious, creative interpretations of basic rudiment forms let us speak clearly using familiar language to say something new in a unique way.
Fulcrum
Discussions of drumset technique often refer to a fulcrum: a specific point of leverage within the hand at which the stick pivots. To put it simply, in front of the fulcrum the stick goes up; while behind it, the stick goes down, and vice-versa. A fulcrum transfers momentum generated in the arm, wrist or fingers, to the front of the stick.
The fulcrum is typically taught as an oversimplified point between the thumb and the index finger, with the stick functioning like a see-saw between them. As we develop, we find that the entire delivery system is a bit more complex than that, and that there are more options. These options make flexible use of all the joints and available pivot points within the mechanism of what we call a stroke.
When we reduce our dependence on the index finger, even a little, it alters the perception that the fulcrum must be a single pinch point in the delivery system. It forces us to make better use of the other fingers in ways which open up a lot more possibilities. Going beyond that singular pivot point reveals that there are many possible locations for a fulcrum, and many more ways to propel and control the stick.
The basic principle of the mechanical device commonly referred to as the fulcrum operates using three relevant points: two counter-balance points and a central stationary pivot point (the fulcrum). Points on one side that are farther away from the fulcrum require less force to operate the device effectively (force multiplying), while points that are closer to the fulcrum require more force (distance multiplying).
Within our hand we can make use of either of these potential energy systems, depending on the distance from the fulcrum from which force is applied. That is, leverage applied from farther away from the fulcrum means that less force is required, while leverage applied close to the fulcrum requires more force.
The problem with the simple pinch-point fulcrum that is frequently taught to beginning drummers is that it omits the importance of the input of energy. Because of this, drummers play entirely from the arm or wrist and in some cases from the fulcrum itself. Tension from the pinch point tightens the wrist, hand and fingers. They use the index finger both as a fulcrum and to propel the stick, which consumes a lot of energy resources with little efficiency or control.
Keep in mind that a fulcrum is simply a pivot point. We must also be conscious of the energy we input through points either in front of or behind the fulcrum: behind it are the fingers which drive the stick and in front is the surface of the drum or cymbal. These opposing points feed and receive energy into the three-point system.
The fulcrum’s function within the wrist/hand/fingers triad is largely based on simple mechanical principles which transfer physical energy. While the mechanical principles may be unalterable, there are other factors which alter the range of possibilities.
To a certain degree, the interface of the wrist, hand and fingers with the drumstick can be influenced by the drummer’s hand shape – specifically, the size, the length of the fingers and their relationship to each other.
Not all hands share the same shape and there are significant differences. It’s not simply that some hands are big and some are small. The relationship of the joints within the entire system of joints varies from person to person and affects the individual’s functional movement of the drumstick.
These differences play a role in how the drumstick lays across the drummer’s fingers and how well it is ultimately controlled.
Within the hand we have at our disposal a remarkable fifteen different joints plus the fleshy spaces between them. Add the indispensable, multi-function, twisty-bendy wrist joint, plus the elbow and the shoulder and we have a sophisticated energy delivery and control system.
Since the hands are the ultimate interface with the drumstick, much of our focus is directed here, but all parts must work in concert for the efficient delivery of energy.
It’s also worth noting that neurological differences between the right and left hands mean that technique on one side may not be mirrored on the other. For most of us, the distinctions between the right and left side add another layer of complexity that must be continuously worked with and overcome. Not only does our non-dominant hand feel weaker, in some ways it simply doesn’t behave the same way as the dominant hand.
Let’s look at how energy is fed into and received through the fulcrum system.
The fulcrum is simply the transfer point of energy to and from the drum or cymbal. Energy or momentum is not generated from the fulcrum, but instead comes from how we drive the stick, in combination with other factors such as rebound. Energy originates behind the fulcrum, is transferred through the fulcrum, and then is received back into the hand in the form of rebound. This rebound energy travels back across the fulcrum to the driving point in the fingers and the process can be repeated.
Although we are focusing on what drives the stick downward, how the stick gets up in order to play the next note should also be considered. Rebound only is useful if we allow it. The fingers can certainly obstruct the free flow of movement of the drumstick. The fingers cannot lift the stick. This can only be done from the wrist or the arm, or with rebound. It’s useful to not depend on rebound, and to train ourselves to lift the stick while also working with rebound.
In understanding fulcrums, it’s helpful to understand what propels the drumstick. Much of the time energy is generated from the elbow using the larger muscle groups. This creates momentum, which can be sustained. Throughout the hand and fingers, contact points propel the stick - specific areas within the hand and/or fingers which drive the stick downward and subsequently receive that energy in return in the form of rebound. Become acquainted with the specific points which drive the stick so we can make the changes needed to gain more control and flexibility.
Don’t confuse the driving point with the actual fulcrum. The points at which energy is conveyed to the drumstick within the fingers or into the entire mechanism are the points which drive the stick. The drivers are located behind the fulcrum. The fulcrum itself does not generate energy, it can only transfer it. Drivers can be the points on the fingers, or the wrist, or the entire arm. A fulcrum is typically not stationary, but moves in accordance with the whip strokes generated in the arm.
Also, remember that the surface of the drum or cymbal, which is one part of the 3-point counter-balance mechanism, returns energy across the fulcrum back into the system in the form of rebound. Rebound is a beneficial resource, but we shouldn’t depend too much on it. Lifting the stick provides more control. Lifting the stick generates energy as well, which feeds energy to set the stick on the driving points. Rebound aside, lifting the stick can only be done with either the arm or wrist. The fingers themselves cannot lift the drumstick.
In front of the fulcrum we have the playing surface, the drum or cymbal. The receiver of our energy, the playing surface also returns that energy in the form of rebound. Yet it is behind the fulcrum that we directly engage the rest of the fingers, hand, wrist and arm to drive and control the stick. What happens here is of great importance. Here is where we add a powerful driver to the fulcrum: the component of leverage. All that lies behind the fulcrum, the fingers, hands, wrists, forearms, elbows, even the shoulders, are sources of power and control.
A brief rundown of some of the options for wrist position can be found at the back of this book.[ii] It’s important to understand these differences when trying to solve problems, such as, why the stick might be rebounding in a zig zag or going sideways.
All variables ought to be examined and understood in light of our own unique physique. We must consider hand shape and size, the dominant/weak hand relationship, and whatever it is we are trying to play.
In the course of playing, the technique we use and how we hold the drumsticks can change rapidly. Different musical situations require different modes of delivery; and these demands change by the second. Depending on the idea, the musical terrain or which part of the kit we play, plus factors such as dynamics, tone, or tempo, we may make use of three or four different techniques within one bar … all done un-consciously.
Instinctively making use of different techniques is advantageous to the fluid execution of our ideas. After 57 years of playing, I’m still finding new ways to play.
Wrist / hand / fingers – how wrist position affects energy transfer
In addition to differences in the fulcrum outlined in the previous section, a major contributing factor in our technique is wrist position. The wrist may be rotated in ways which place the palm facing upwards, all the way around 180° to the palm facing downwards or anywhere in between.
At the center of the multi-joint system (18 joints in all) in the arm, wrist, hand and fingers, we find the humble wrist, a highly flexible multi-angle joint. Since the wrist repeatedly transfers energy from the arm to the hand, absorbs a lot of impact, and contributes locomotion to all we do, it’s essential that we take care to use it wisely.
Some wrist positions offer little opportunity for contact with the drumstick within the hand while others maximize it. We may find that we use the pad of the fingers within the first knuckle of the middle finger, or use the fingertips of the middle, ring and little fingers aligned along the base of the stick; or we may lock the ring and little fingers around the stick, etc. The fulcrum ranges from a clear lever between the thumb and index fingers to rolling on the big curved pad of the thumb; it may pivot on the fleshy pad within the first knuckle of the middle finger. And in some cases, the entire arm acts as a fulcrum or even the wrist itself. To complicate matters even more, we may use all of the above in a variety of notes and surfaces.
In addition to being open to different types of fulcrums, we can gain a lot of insight into the mechanics of playing by paying attention to what happens behind the fulcrum. Many factors are involved in how we select and use appropriate technique: playing surfaces and angles of drums and cymbals, dynamic level, tone and tempo, etc. Much of this has to do with the wrist and the forearm, and in turn how these influence how we use the fingers.
We may use the wrist in a ‘vertical’ position, similar to a handshake with the palm facing inward, or in a more horizontal position like when we bounce a basketball, with palm facing downward. Generally we use the wrist in these two positions or somewhere in between. We may even play palm facing up, but the degree of control possible here is at a minimum.
Wrist positions have different functions, produce different outcomes, and no single position is appropriate for all playing situations. We may go from one position to another within one phrase.
The wide range of wrist positions has a significant bearing on the placement of our fingers in controlling the stick. The fingers in question are the middle finger, the ring finger and the little finger. Let’s call them the control fingers.
We can dramatically improve control by allowing the control fingers (middle, ring and little) to work naturally with the up and down movement of the stick behind the fulcrum within the hand.
It is natural for these three fingers to curl inward when relaxed. In contrast, pushing them out and straightening them creates tension in the hand and wrist. Pushing these fingers outward is a natural bodily reaction of the muscles to get out of the way of the up and down movement of the butt end of the stick. But if we rotate the wrist slightly, the natural curl of the fingers can be utilized to control and propel the stick.
Remember that behind the fulcrum, the stick moves opposite to its movement in front of the fulcrum. When the tip of the stick is going down, the butt end travels upward, and vice versa.
Take time to observe your own situation and see where these three fingers are when in the various wrist positions from palm-up to palm-down.
Here are a few positions and their consequences. First, with the wrist positioned so that the palm is facing upward and the control fingers relaxed so they are naturally curled, notice how these fingers naturally position themselves along the top of the stick. This finger position is largely undesirable, since the fingers now prevent the up and down movement of the drumstick. In this extreme position we, consciously or not, will straighten these three fingers to get them out of the way. Not only are the fingers now out of the range of control, we have created unnecessary tension. Plus the arm, wrist, and hand is in a zig-zag, and we must play by twisting the wrist.
This upward facing palm with little contact with the stick allows for a woody, open tone from the stick on a cymbal, but is largely useless for playing with conviction.
Next, turn the wrist slightly so the palm faces inward. Now the wrist is more vertically aligned, in more of a handshake position. This still places the fingertips in the upward path of the butt of the stick, but we can now make use of the area of the fingers within the first knuckles to respond to the movement on the underside of the stick. We begin to gain more control in feeding energy and regulating rebound where it should be - on the stick beneath the fulcrum within the hand. This places the thumb on top of the stick, which is a useful guide for rebound and creates an alternative fulcrum. This can be developed significantly for fast playing, but must be combined with an ultra-relaxed wrist. This position is commonly referred to as French grip.
When we rotate the wrist even more so the palm faces slightly downward, this changes the alignment of the fingers in a powerful way. Some refer to this as American grip. The hand position is now similar to that of inserting a key into a lock. The fingertips of the three control fingers are in alignment along the base of the butt of the stick. The force of leverage is greater in this position than in the two positions above.
In combination with a relaxed wrist, the control fingers can now complete the balance of energy behind the fulcrum. The fingers are used collectively or singly, not to directly manipulate notes one by one as in a “valve technique”, but to regulate the amount of movement of the stick by control the distance the stick can travel within the hand. In this way the control fingers act like a spring that regulate rebound and add energy so as to continue momentum – much like bouncing a basketball. The butt of the stick may be aligned in the space at the base of the hand. The fingers provide effortless control with minimal tension. Of course the elbow is the source of power, but in a more efficient manner.
Lastly, rotating the wrist a bit more places the wrist and palm of the hand in a horizontal position, where the palm is more or less parallel to the floor. Generally, this position offers the most power and sustained control, as in Moeller-type strokes. This horizontal position places the fingertips along the bottom edge of the drumstick, and provides the maximum amount of leverage potential within the hand. The butt of the stick may protrude from the side of the hand below the little finger.
As we can see, the position of the wrist affects which part of the control fingers we use.
Leverage plays a role that may be overlooked. On a fulcrum, leverage, or torque, is increased as we increase the distance from where the force is exerted. Of the five fingers in the hand, the third, fourth and fifth fingers have access to the strongest muscles in the arm. These fingers are also farthest from the fulcrum, which enables maximum leverage potential.
By contrast, the thumb and index fingers attach to tendons near the wrist in the outer part of the forearm and derive much of their power for pushing by using the leverage of the upper body. The third, fourth and fifth fingers attach to a complex and strong group of large muscles within the forearm, where there is tremendous strength for pulling.
Think of which fingers we rely on for strength when lifting a suitcase, climbing, even for bouncing a basketball. Hint: it’s not the thumb and index fingers.
Making use of the three control fingers provides more strength and control when needed, and enables a relaxed, solid, articulate and confident state of playing. When used in conjunction with the entire multi-joint group, the control fingers serve as a useful spring at the base of the stick. Control comes from a combination of following and controlling the stick in its up-and-down motion.
Don’t underestimate the power of the little finger. It has a lot of leverage potential, although we may feel the little finger has the least to contribute. When developed and trained to work naturally, it provides a great deal of power and control. Its leverage potential is due to its significant distance from the fulcrum and its close proximity to the bending of the wrist.
It takes practice to engage the fingers with the stick while simultaneously relaxing the wrist.
These wrist positions outlined above each have their place. Working on all of them gives us access to a wide variety of musical applications and ideas. They improve our touch, our dynamics, control, and generally facilitate our ideas more easily. How we use the wrist and fingers depends on what we are trying to do, but we must be careful not to let whatever technique we use limit us. When we gain insight into the mechanics involved, it will become easier to find our own answers.
Preparation
At any given time, regardless of what kind of stroke we have, it consists of both an up and a down motion. It’s a symbiotic relationship, by which the stick cannot go down until it has first gone up. But much of the time we focus attention to what happens prior to the stick striking a surface – we focus on the downward motion - when in fact what takes place immediately following a strike - the upward motion - is actually the first and most important half of the entire stroke.
The components of an entire stroke form a continuous and connected movement, rather than a series of individually linked movements. They are inter-dependent.
Here we will look at how up and down movements can be tied together so that we are always in the most effective position for what we are about to play next. At the same time we learn to play with uninterrupted momentum, which allows us to connect our notes in a fluid and musical way, without distraction or hesitation. This is not always necessary, such as when playing slow quarter notes, but is essential when playing continuous notes containing accents, doubles or a variety of orchestrations.
All strokes need some amount of stick height. We say “what goes up must come down”, and in the case of a drumstick, what goes down must have gone up. A stick can get into position above a drum or cymbal only by either rebound or lifting, or both. This may not always be happening in a fluid manner. Following a strike, we may sometimes keep the fingers closed. Whether intentional or not, this prevents the rebound from functioning naturally. Closing the fingers after a note prevents the rebound from completing its cycle naturally. It halts the upward motion of the tip, along with the corresponding downward motion of the butt of the stick in the hand. This results in interrupted momentum. This is fine until it isn’t.
Stick-lift is done via the wrist or forearm. The fingers cannot lift the stick. We either keep them somewhat closed and lift the stick with the hand via the wrist and forearm, or we open the fingers to allow for rebound. Understand and practice the functional difference between rebound and lift. I try to incorporate lift as much as possible, even when making use of rebound.
These movements can be incorporated into the full and complete up and down movement required for every note we play.
Be cognizant of when the stick must be lifted for uninterrupted flow. When playing slowly, the lift might not occur until well after the previous note and just before the next one. However, when notes are in quick succession, the upward stroke should be immediately tied to the hit.
In addition, part of developing our touch comes from an awareness of the fact that some strokes require more velocity and momentum than others. This means more height. Certain combinations of singles, doubles, triples and accents mean that the stick must come from a higher position ahead of those notes. In these cases, it is important that the stick is positioned properly in anticipation.
Make it a habit of getting the drumstick in the proper position for effortless execution ahead of what we will play. For example, accented notes, double strokes or buzzed notes need to carry more momentum. The stick must be high enough to execute the appropriate accent or provide the extra energy these types of notes need.
Work out the logistics of how the stick gets into its higher position by identifying precisely where the extra height is needed. From there, backtrack to find the preceding note that sets it up. On that preceding note, the stroke will need to be either a lift stroke or a rebound. If it’s an accent or a double, a rebound might not be enough, so teaching ourselves to intuitively lift is essential.
If it is not a natural part of our technique it can be. It just takes conscious and directed attention in practice to make these preparatory strokes a habit. Practice patterns that incorporate these ideas until it becomes a natural part of our playing.
Work out the usefulness of each of these four different strokes: full stroke, down stroke, tap, up stroke. Each has a particular function, and helps set up what will follow.
Think differently
Rhythmic lines need not be thought of as laid out against a repeating pattern, such as variations of bass drum notes against a steady hi hat and snare backbeat; or snare and bass comping patterns juxtaposed against the jazz ride cymbal pattern. We may envision patterns that we when first learning. However, it’s important to broaden our concept of rhythms in a more dimensional and musical way rather than viewing them as a grid upon which we insert variations.
It’s helpful to hear more musically, to pull back our focus a bit to be cognizant of the rhythmic contour or rhythmic melody. Rhythms have shapes that can best be heard creatively by listening carefully and not thinking in a grid-like fashion. Listen for particular interactions between different voices, and assimilate them so they become intuitive.
We can explore concepts of broken time and linear stickings. These help to orchestrate rhythmic ideas throughout the drumset more spatially as opposed to the limited juxtaposition of snare and bass drum variations against a steady ride cymbal beat. In the same way that rhythmic ideas can be expressed with a clave-based pulse without explicitly playing a clave pattern, ideas can instead be suspended and manipulated in a more fluid and dimensional way. They become less rigid and less stiff, and are more open to interpretation, embellishment and improvisation.
Once we are very comfortable and confident with our time we are then free to express melodic, multi-dimensional, conversational rhythmic ideas that flow more easily and more clearly. The content takes the lead rather than thinking in terms of patterns.
Break away from restrictions and free the hands and feet to play in ways which communicate rhythmic ideas more clearly and conceptually, rather than literally. Avoid thinking of layering parts that sit on a grid, or thinking that our limbs are ‘independent’ of one another.
Instead, view the entire rhythmic idea and its relation to the music as a thing unto itself: a three dimensional, inter-dependent visualization that is made up of sound, dynamics and spatial relationships within the context of time. These relationships can be thought of as being influenced by a gravitational exchange between spheres of sound.
Rather than being the sum of individual components such as the hi-hat or cymbal, bass and snare drum parts, work instead toward rhythmic ideas that have a fluid inter-connectedness, outlined clearly with few, if any, wasted or unnecessary notes. This leaves more space as well as more opportunities for creativity.
In his 2005 master’s thesis, Barry Elmes defines one of Elvin Jones’ essential contributions to jazz:
"While Jones seems to use the ride cymbal as the primary instrument to state his timekeeping phrases, the cymbal line alone does not reveal the whole story. In fact, he employs the ride cymbal in conjunction with (and not independent of) the other drum set components. In developing this approach, Jones created a unified concept that totally integrated the function of all four limbs into the expression of flowing rhythmic phrases. This integration redefined the role of ‘four-limb independence’. With Jones, it became a musical tool to serve his phrasing concept, rather than a technical goal of drum set performance" (p. 58).
Over time and through observation we begin to recognize our own natural mode of expression. We begin to intuit an essential, purposeful conveyance of rhythmic ideas in support of the music at that moment. We begin to clarify our own voice.
We may have worked for years to put things together in a grid-like fashion in our mind: steady eighth-notes on a hi-hat or playing the jazz ride pattern on the cymbal and ‘2’ and ‘4’ on the hi hat. There is nothing wrong with that. In fact, it is how we learn to put things together. But getting the time-feel deep inside us and away from being bound to expressing it our right hand releases us from the constraint of having to play time emphatically.
This departure away from being bound to lead-hand time-playing is part of our evolution on the instrument; it is an important distinction that goes to the heart of how we relate to time and music itself. This is not to say we shouldn’t play time, but rather that we must not be bound to it. Be free from the perceived requirement that we must play every note or pattern perfectly and with precision, or that one limb must continue while the other limb plays some of those same notes. Breaking free from this, our music becomes more idea based, more melodic, instead of being perfection-based. Our ideas become clearer and rhythms are more fluid, with less redundancy. What we play is more engaging and relatable.
In the same way that we improvise around a melody by acknowledgement, variation, modulation, harmony, departure and return, we can work with time and rhythm.
Thanks for reading.
--Brett F. Campbell, 2019
References
Elmes, B. W. (2005). Elvin Jones: Defining his essential contributions to jazz (Masters thesis). Toronto: York University.
John Riley, The Master Drummer DVD (Alfred Music, 2009)
Schumacher, E. F. (1977). A guide for the perplexed. New York: Harper Perennial.
Addendum
[i] John Riley and the concept of headroom: “There's a concept called headroom which comes from the automotive world. Headroom refers to excess capacity. So if you have a car that's capable of a maximum speed of 60mph, when you're going 60mph, that car is doing everything it's capable of and there is no excess capacity. A car capable of going 200mph just breezes along at 60 because it has all that headroom from 61 to 200 mph in reserve. The same concept applies in drumming. You want to have more capabilities than are required to perform your role in a band so that that role is almost physically effortless and so that your brain power can be dedicated to focusing on supporting the other musicians.”
[ii] Careful observation reveals a variety of points in the hand which can drive the stick. Most of the following examples below make important use of our opposable digit, the thumb.
- The fingertips. The outermost portion of the fingers, the fingertips come into play along the bottom edge of the drumstick when the wrist position approaches German grip – palm facing downwards to some degree. The middle, ring and little fingers have a lot of potential for power since they are farthest away from the fulcrum and have maximum leverage potential (force multiplying). The fulcrum is now a loose – almost undefined - point between the thumb and first knuckle of the index finger. This position makes use of all flexible joints from the shoulder down to the fingers.
- The pads of the fingers. These drive points may be accessed through either German or American grip. Again - lots of power through the transfer of energy from the elbow and wrist. The wrist is bending in a natural, horizontal hinge movement, common in Moeller-type techniques. The fingers supply a lot of leverage, not only because they are farthest from the fulcrum, but the pads of the fingers generate leverage due to the fact that they are farthest from the hand. Similar to fingertip drivers, above.
- Moving inward still, the drivers may lie in the middle pad of the middle and ring fingers. Now the wrist has rotated slightly more away from the horizontal German position, closer to American grip. The pivot point, the actual fulcrum, can lie on the middle finger itself, with the ring and little finger adding energy and support.
- The driver point might also lie in the nook within that first knuckle of the middle or ring finger. In this case the index finger is relaxed, and points forward, not as much in play as the other fingers.
- Twisting the wrist even more away from American grip (right hand – turn clockwise), we find that the stick may be driven by the soft pad of the middle finger between its joint with the hand and its first knuckle. It can operate in conjunction with the same location on the ring finger, providing a soft yet stable two-finger driver opposite the thumb. This driver point is very flexible and allows the big curved pad of the thumb to serve as an arc upon which the stick pivots. While this driver of energy is quite close to the fulcrum, the strength and rigidity of this first pad of the middle finger provides significant power (distance multiplying). This two-finger point can become its own fulcrum, with the thumb slightly off the stick. Movement is generated from a loose wrist. Useful for fast playing without using the fingers to manipulate the stick.
- Another contact point may be all the way down to the ring and little finger, holding the stick quite low near the butt. Here again, movement is generated from the wrist and the ring and middle finger are more or less locked around the base of the stick.
- In addition to the variety of stationary fulcrum locations among the fingers mentioned above, a fulcrum can also be fluid. It can travel as a wave, as in a big Moeller-type stroke or even in its smaller more economical versions. A fulcrum need not be a fixed pivot point. Beginning where momentum is generated, say, the elbow, the wave travels all the way down the arm, through the wrist into the hand, fingers and into the stick, all within one stroke. This fluid movement transfers energy like a wave through all the joints in the arm, wrist and hand, sending it through the stick and into the drums and cymbals. Like a whip, momentum is created and transferred efficiently. Energy is increased as it travels, resulting in an intensified transfer of energy at the point of impact. The sound produced is full, open, and resonant.
- Lastly, the stick can be held in a kind of lock-grip by the ring and little fingers. The stick is pressed up against the fleshy palm of the hand, and the stick is held down quite low near the butt. The other three fingers up front are loose and allow the stick to move. Energy is generated in the elbow and wrist.
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