To run.
To sing like I don't have neighbours.
A great cigar.
The best shave ever.
To love with nothing held back.
To hit my snare so hard you blink.
To be pure.
To laugh with you.
To wear fun shoes more often.
To hear my little chick say "more?" in that beautiful, we've-been-playing-so-hard-I-can-barely-breathe voice.
Wisdom.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
re: snare -
"I am a man, I make loud noises..."
Last night was good for that. Not like on acoustics, but still good.
A drummer at church had this t-shirt on:
"Drum machines
HAVE NO SOUL"
I have to say, our band at church agreed on that when James tried to get us to convert to a drum machine. But what can a guy do when he's trying to rehearse in an apartment in Switzerland, where basic noise is grounds for calling the police?
You're off the hook.
Ooooh, you need to be careful here. There's a big difference between a drum machine (which truly has no soul) and electronic drums (which have what you might call a rather commercialized, Ford Taurus kind of soul. Not exactly what anyone dreams of, but certainly better than no soul at all).
Electronic drums are what I play. And because I play good ones, they can sometimes almost kind of approximate real drums. I can play them with feeling. A drum machine is a little box about the size of Die-Hard box set that no one plays. Instead, it's programmed, usually to play some pre-determined patterns, rather like your grandmother's organ.
It's probably good that you got through that one with me. With any other drummer, it might have gotten messy...
Post a Comment