(If you subscribe to this blog via feed-reader, you might have missed the announcement that we'll be playing for the SF Day of the Dead procession, and you can join us. You don't have to drum to come along, but if you want to, drop into a class!)

This is the first time I've taught a percussion class over an extended period of time - now going on more than a year (albeit with big breaks of several months). It's incredibly rewarding to see the progression and improvement of the drummers in the class, and what that is requiring of me as a teacher. 

When we began, I was getting used to simple things like talking while playing (not so straightforward, particularly with newly-minted rhythms). Beginner drummers' first hurdles were usually two-fold: 1) Learning rhythm changes so they could switch smoothly while playing, 2) Getting their head (and body) around the feel of 6/8 rhythms.

Now, many months later, we're adding ghost notes and improvisational patterns - it's wonderful to hear the complexity now coming out of our drumming. And I'm being challenged to not go too far too fast. One of the benefits of bucket-drumming is that players can jump in quickly with a minimum of technique. Sure, there's some technique involved, and - not to get too ridiculously drum-geeky, but - bucket drumming comes with a host of special issues and considerations. But you can learn dozens of bucket rhythms over the span of a few months, and play them well enough to sound good - a much shorter learning curve than with most other percussion.

But we shouldn't just race through our rhythm library. One reason is simply because I don't want to prevent new players from joining in; most of our rhythms still have a basic-enough entry point for first-timers to play along. Also, I understand that knowing how to play a rhythm for 20 minutes in class, event at tempo with a lot of changes, is not the same as having that rhythm in your body. There's a separation of brain and body that happens when you start drumming for longer periods of time, 30 minutes straight, an hour, or more - call it spiritual, call it trance, call it whatever. Drumming during the Day of the Dead procession, for example, forces us to play rhythms at extended periods of time. Playing Step Caribe for 45 minutes while walking the streets of San Francisco's Mission District changes your relationship to the rhythm - you're never gonna forget that break at the end of the phrase....

The other day I spoke with my first drum teacher, Sango Muyiwa. He was kind enough to tell me the crew we had back in 1994 - one year into my drumming life - was the best he's assembled in the intervening 13 years. Of course that feels good, and even if he's just being nice, I'll take it. I do remember we had a great and talented crew (I was by far the most junior member - both in age and talent), and when we performed at campus center, it was damn hot.

I'm also realizing how rare that is. I've seen people come and go in my class (and I've been one of those people in other drum classes). Thankfully, I've got a small group of committed and talented drummers right now, which allows me to watch (and drive) the progression. I love to see new people come in and learn drumming basics - and now seeing these folks progress and do trickier rhythms, faster, and more confidently, is an amazing reward.

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