<![CDATA[Guitar lessons, Brussels, Belgium - Blog]]>Thu, 16 Apr 2026 23:52:26 -0700Weebly<![CDATA[Blog post #16: A very brief history of rock music]]>Tue, 18 Feb 2025 22:47:08 GMThttps://www.guitarlessons.be/bandblog/blog-post-16-a-very-brief-history-of-rock-musicCeltic and African rhythms and melodies and Western harmony came to North America with immigration and slavery and were incorporated into the Blues, Jazz and Country music of the first half of the 20th century. Rock n’ Roll emerged in the mid 1950s as a distillation of these three genres. An important late-stage precursor to Rock n’ Roll also deserves a mention here. Namely, Jump Blues. This genre appeared in the late 1940s and can be considered as Rock n’ Roll with different instrumentation (horns rather than guitars). Louis Jordan was the most prominent of the Jump Blues artists, but his star would soon be eclipsed and totally dwarfed by early rock n’ rollers such as Bill Haley, Elvis, Chuck Berry and Buddy Holly. These artists all put the newly available electric guitar front and centre in their music. Their sound was raucous and futuristic at the same time and the youth of the day found it incredibly appealing and exciting. Their parents... not so much.


As Rock n’ Roll gradually morphed into the “Classic Rock” of the 1960’s, the focal point switched from America to England. Nearly all the influential rock bands of the 60’s and 70’s were English: The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Who, The Kinks, Cream, Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin, Yes, Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd, T-Rex... I would also include The Jimi Hendrix Experience in this list (An American guitarist who came to England, formed a band with two English musicians and who first gained recognition in England). 


From the 70’s onwards, rock music evolved under various titles such as Prog, Glam, Punk, New Wave, Metal, Soft, Shoegaze, Indie, Alternative, Britpop and Grunge up to the Nu-Metal of the early 2000’s. Since the mid-2000’s, kids have listened to increasingly little guitar music. The charts became dominated by rap and electronic music. The guitar seemed to disappear almost completely from charts by the late 2010’s, but features on more and more new popular songs in the Spotify Top 50 Global playlist during the last couple of years.

Where are all the new bands?

However, ‘bands’ are not really a big thing any more. At least not for the young kids. It’s all “XXX” featuring “YYY” in the charts now. There are no collectives of musicians, only brief collaborations. Apart from manufactured K-Pop boy bands that is. A few legacy rock bands still exist in 2024 to fill out huge arenas, such as The Stones, AC/DC, Coldplay, The Foo Fighters, etc. And a few new rock acts have broken through and have become moderately successful, such as Maneskin (Italy’s entry into the 2021 Eurovision Song Contest). 


Where are all the other new bands though? Not only rock bands, but bands of musicians in any genre? Probably bands are prohibitively expensive in an age where one talented person and a computer can produce very high-quality music. And with more than one new song every second being uploaded to Spotify, producers and music labels need to keep their costs to a minimum to remain competitive in the current marketplace. There is no need to keep full-time band members on the payroll when huge sample libraries of every possible instrument exist and session players can be hired as and when needed for one-off recording sessions.

Is rock music now historical music?

While there are plenty of amateur rock groups playing small local clubs and bars around the world, perhaps rock is historical music now, like Trad Jazz was when I was growing up. The era of rock bands in the charts is over. The always distant prospect of mega-stardom for rock musicians is now extremely distant and has, in fact, totally disappeared. 

If it is indeed the case that rock is now a historical art form, then it’s up to us amateur musicians to carry the torch and keep this music alive. And we’ll do it because we have an innate urge to create primal rhythms with our hands like our ancient forebears. We’ll do it for the sense of community we share with our fellow rock musicians. We’ll do it as an antidote to an increasingly automated, online and artificial lifestyle.


Mark Baxter (c) 2025
]]><![CDATA[Blog post #15: The Rhythmically Dyslexic]]>Mon, 27 Jan 2025 20:00:23 GMThttps://www.guitarlessons.be/bandblog/15-rhythmical-dyslexiaIn this chapter… The backbeat. Coming in sideways. Terry Savlon, Bovington and Tickly Under There. John Lee Hooker. The train wreck: the worst thing that can happen to you on stage apart from accidental death by electrocution.
In the vast majority of the rock music of the last 60 years, there is a discernable backbeat. The drummer hits his snare drum on beats 2 and 4 in the bar. He accents these beats. These two beats stand out in the music. And it’s not just rock that has a backbeat: most popular music of the last nearly 90 years has a backbeat, regardless of genre. In jazz, blues, disco, death metal, dubstep, you name it... the 2 and 4 are accented. For some reason we as listeners love this pulse. As musicians, we hear the backbeat and it helps us to know where we are in the rhythm. If we were to make a mistake and momentarily lose our place in the music, we could immediately get back in to it by reference to the backbeat. It’s a fundamental element of rhythm in popular music.

A very small number of amateur musicians however, do not feel the backbeat as keenly as the rest of us. Sometimes they will start playing on the 2 as if it is the 1, for example. This is known as coming in sideways. For many of us, coming in sideways would take a concerted mental effort. It goes against all our rhythmical instincts. It goes against the rhythm of the music we’ve listened to and danced to all our lives. For the rhythmically dyslexic... it’s no problem at all.

Here are three short anecdotes about players I have encountered with varying degrees of rhythmical dyslexia. I tell these anecdotes in order to showcase the dramatic effect this affliction can have on the rest of the band:

Terry Savlon

Terry Savlon, was the singer in a band called Frog Zenith. This was a short-lived band that lasted all of one gig before splitting up. I was one of the band’s two guitar players.

At some point during the second set of Frog Zenith’s one and only gig, we launched into a cover of Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash. Terry suddenly came in sideways with his opening vocals. He either came in one beat too early or one beat too late, I can’t remember. Either way, the effect would have been the same. Ring of Fire has a fast “Boom Cha Boom Cha” rhythm and Terry had started singing on a “Cha” when he was meant to come in on a “Boom”! He had gotten the Boom and the Cha mixed up! Unbeknownst to Terry, this had the effect of an electric shock running through the rest of the band behind him. We were thrown into a state of disarray and confusion. We looked left and right at each other in panic, trying to decide how to remedy the situation. Should we all switch and follow Terry? Should we stay where we are, hold our breath and hope he self-corrects soon? In the end, two of us went Terry’s way and the other two of us stayed put. Now half the band were “Boom Cha” while the other half were “Cha Boom”. The overall effect was “Choom Choom”! The music was highly unstable and we were now dangerously close to being involved in a train wreck (i.e., the song coming to a crashing premature halt). Somehow, we miraculously survived and got back on track. It was a very close call!

Meanwhile, Terry was standing at the front of the stage with his back to us, singing his heart out. He was blissfully unaware of the chaos that had just taken place behind him. Chaos which he had caused. He was instead deeply involved in expressing the song’s theme of all-consuming romantic passion to the audience. Quite how he could have been so oblivious to the strong backbeat of this song, I don’t know!

Bovington

I knew an open-mic’er called Bovington. He played acoustic guitar and sang his own compositions: humorous novelty songs in the style of Pam Ayres (for those of you in the UK who are old enough to remember this poetess/singer/light entertainer). Like Uncle Tony, who I mentioned in an earlier chapter, Bovington was an older gentlemen who had difficulty knowing where a bar ended. He didn’t hear the backbeat in the music. There was no backbeat in his music. He simply changed chord whenever he felt the urge. And his urge rarely corresponded with the end of a 4/4 bar. Bars could be three-and-a-half or five beats long, for example. Bovington was allergic to counting.

Also similar to Uncle Tony, Bovington loved the idea of having a band around him, instead of just playing solo. He wanted to hear his compositions fleshed out with drums, bass, keyboards and electric guitars. Alas, this was not possible. Nobody at the open mics had the telepathic skills to anticipate when Bovington would change chords. It was extremely difficult to play along with him.

Incidentally, there is a very interesting recording of the great John Lee Hooker singing Red House, originally by Jimi Hendrix. It’s worth a listen, if you can find it. John Lee Hooker, who mainly performed solo, would change chords whenever he felt like it, just as Bovington did. He didn’t worry about following the usual 4/4 structure of Red House, even though he was playing with a band on this version. The musicians in this band were amazing. They were mind readers. Somehow they were able to anticipate John Lee’s premature or delayed chord changes faultlessly. How they did it, I will never know.

Douglas

Douglas was the bass player in a local hard rock cover band called Tickly Under There. He had a severe case of rhythmical dyslexia, but his band mates stood by him and over time he improved. In the early days however, it was possible for him to play a very strong riff, such The White Stripes’ Seven Nation Army or Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love, a quarter note out of sync with the rest of the band. This feat is nigh on impossible for nearly every other musician alive on Planet Earth. For Douglas, it was child’s play. Amazingly, after making this mistake, Douglas was able to maintain the same tempo as the others and yet remain a quarter note out of sync. Somehow, he didn’t immediately hear the disparity with the other musicians in the band, and he could continue pretty much indefinitely on this track. However, the effect was like a musical suicide bomber suddenly appearing on stage. It was so jarring to his Tickly Under There band mates, they would inevitably have to stop: A train wreck!

How to deal with rhythmical dyslexia:

If you are auditioning players for your band, it should be obvious quite soon if they suffer from rhythmical dyslexia. Sufferers can improve, but probably not quickly, so it’s best to say thanks but no thanks.

If you feel you yourself have a degree of rhythmical dyslexia, you might try this. Listen to classic rock, jazz or pop songs and try to identify the backbeat. Clap your hands along with the backbeat. The snare drum is normally played on the backbeat, so you can listen out for that. It’s a big clue. Perhaps take some lessons with a music teacher (one who plays modern music: rock, jazz or pop) and ask them to help you to identify the backbeat in different songs at different tempos. The next level would be to set the metronome at half speed and try play short riffs or passages of music hearing the metronome click as beats 2 and 4 in a bar, i.e., the backbeat. Again, a good teacher should be able to direct you in doing this. The overall aim is to get you to reliably hear the backbeat of a song and be able to connect your playing to it.


Rhythmical dyslexia is due to not keenly hearing the backbeat in popular music. It is a relatively rare phenomenon. The sufferer doesn’t hear the 4/4 bars as units which repeat. The rhythm for them is more a continuous string of notes without the organising factor of repetition. Those with rhythmical dyslexia are therefore more susceptible to losing their place in the rhythm and throwing the rest of the band into confusion. Very often, when a player comes in sideways or miscounts a bar and gets out of sync with the others, this causes a train wreck. The song comes to a sad and premature end, like a soldier being shot and limping on for a few more paces before finally keeling over. So, it is best to avoid inviting a rhythmically dyslexic player into your band.

Chapter summary

]]><![CDATA[Blog post #14: Drummers of various kinds (2 of 2)]]>Thu, 05 Dec 2024 19:30:30 GMThttps://www.guitarlessons.be/bandblog/14-drummers-2-of-2This is the second of a two-part post about drummers. In this post… Gaetan the knife-weilding percussionist. Drum machines? Another disastrous gig for the band Tambana. Ringo’s genius.

Crazy drummers

Drummers have a reputation of acting wild and crazy: getting drunk, trashing hotel rooms, throwing televisions out of windows, driving cars into swimming pools, etc... Rock mythology is full of such stories of drummers’ antics. Prime examples of madcap drummers from history would be Keith Moon of the Who, John Bonham of Led Zeppelin and Animal from The Muppet Show.

In my experience, drummers, true to their stereotype, are often a breed apart from the regular musician. I don’t know why. Take for example, Gaetan, a talented percussionist. I once hired Gaetan to play a day-time corporate gig in one of the buildings of the E.U. Commission in Brussels. I told the band to come early as there was a security check at the entrance of the building. On the day of the gig, at the appointed time, the harmonica player, the bassist and myself were waiting inside the building. There was no sign of Gaetan. He wasn’t answering his phone either, so I made my way to the front lobby to see if I could see him. There he was having a heated discussion with two security guards. Eventually, they let him and his percussion instruments into the building. I asked Gaetan what had happened. He explained that the guards did not want him to bring in the knife he had with him. It was a large hunting knife. It may have even qualified as being a small sword. I said, “Why on earth did you bring a knife? I told you there would be a security check!”. He replied, “To protect myself!” Gaetan was 6 foot 4 and well built. The chances of him being attacked in the street in the middle of the day in a European city pre-migrant crisis were close to zero. However, the real crazy thing was not that Gaetan had brought a large hunting knife with him, but that security let him bring it into the building! He had told the guards that he needed it to cut his drum skins, which was obviously bulls**t.


Drum machine

Is it possible to do without a drummer altogether?

My old band, Tambana, could not find a decent drummer for love nor money. And the date of our first ever gig was fast approaching. We were booked to play The Apsley House pub in Portsmouth on the south coast of England on New Year’s Eve, 1998. As time was running out, we made the radical decision to play the gig without a drummer. Instead, our plan was to use a drum machine supplemented by some real percussion instruments, such as maracas, which were to be played by our singer Tommy. We were inspired by Mick Jagger playing maracas at Rolling Stones gigs.

We had already jammed along to some electronic drum beats supplied by Hammond Cheese’s Casio keyboard. (Hammond Cheese being the nickname of our keyboard player.) Surprisingly, these beats had sounded pretty good. The only problem was, these Casio keyboard drum beats could not be programmed. You just set the beat going and it would remain the same for the rest of the song.

As luck would have it, our guitarist, Careless Santana, already owned a programmable drum machine. It was a model made by the manufacturer Boss. Since Careless had no idea how to programme his own machine (being a gearophobe), I ended up with the job of entering in all the drum parts for the songs we would play. I spent hours and hours in my bedroom fiddling around with the little buttons, squinting at the tiny LCD screen and consulting the manual. All this effort would be worth it to have some more sophisticated drum arrangements than the Casio keyboard could supply.

Meanwhile, Tommy the singer was tasked with buying the percussion instruments. When he returned from the local music store he had with him one tambourine and, rather unexpectedly… one banana. The banana was made of plastic and filled with dried seeds. It was a novelty shaker designed to amuse a small child. Incidentally, our band name derived from these purchases: Tambourine + Banana = Tambana.

A week later and I had finished programming the Boss drum machine. The band started practising in earnest. It took a while for us to fall in line with the unwavering, precise beat of the Boss, but we eventually got the hang of it.

The evening of the gig finally arrived. The Apsley House was jam-packed with drunken New Year’s Eve revellers. We had to squeeze ourselves through the crowd to get to the stage. They were chanting “TAM-BA-NA! TAM-BA-NA!” Tommy, as well as being our singer, was the landlord of The Apsley House, so there was a lot of anticipation from the audience who all knew him. They had never heard him sing before.

For our opening song, we had opted to use a drum beat from the Casio keyboard. This song went down great and ended to loud applause. Now it was time to unleash the real drum machine, the Boss. Here we go. I pressed play. I’m not sure what had happened since the sound-check earlier, but the Boss now sounded so pathetically weak that the audience spontaneously burst into laughter. They were all laughing! Hammond Cheese was laughing! And they all continued laughing while Tommy, Careless Santana and I scrambled around the stage frantically checking connections and trying to rectify the situation. All the low and middle frequencies had disappeared from the drum sound. We couldn’t figure out why. The Boss drum sound suddenly had all the tonal qualities of two stick insects having sex inside a Walker’s crisp packet.

We ended up ditching the Boss and relied only on the Casio keyboard drum beats, the tambourine and the banana for percussion for the rest of the evening. All that wasted time programming the damn thing!

Tommy later told me that his regular drinkers at the bar were still laughing about this incident months afterwards, which annoyed him no end.

I imagine the Boss machine is currently decomposing at the bottom of a landfill somewhere near Portsmouth and polluting the ground water for generations to come.

Drummers are underestimated

As I mentioned at the start of this post, finding a good drummer is essential for your band. The drummer is often the determining factor in the quality of a band. In the words of Duke Ellington:

"If you have a great band with a mediocre drummer, you have a mediocre band. If you have a mediocre band with a great drummer, you have a great band!"

Despite this, I get the impression that casual listeners of music often fail to realise the value of a good drummer; the magic they can bring. When listeners “feel” the music is good, they attribute all of this good feeling to the superstars at the front of the stage: the musicians the cameras focus on most when recording live concerts and music videos. The singer and maybe the guitar player get the majority of the air time. The drummer gets the occasional two-second close up. The drummer is, along with the bassist, simply a side man in many listeners eyes. He or she can easily be replaced. They are non-essential.

Take, for example, the drummer of the most revered of bands, The Beatles. Ringo Starr has been much maligned over the years as being the least talented of the Fab Four. He’s been regarded as hanging on the coat-tails of the other three’s stellar songwriting talents. Paul of course wrote such classics as Yesterday, Michelle, Hey Jude, Let it be, Paperback writer, Eleanor Rigby, Penny Lane… the list goes on and on. John wrote Help!, Strawberry fields forever, Lucy in the sky with diamonds, All you need is love, Revolution, Come together... to name but a few. George also wrote much-loved classics such as While my guitar gently weeps, Taxman, Something and Here comes the sun. In addition, Paul surely has a claim on being the greatest melody writer of the 20th century, regardless of genre. Ringo wrote Octopus’s Garden.

So, I can see where Ringo’s critics are coming from. However, I consider Ringo to be an absolutely essential part of The Beatles. His great sense of groove provides the not-so-obvious magic that his band mates’ great compositions rest upon. The Beatles would not have achieved anything like the success they did without Ringo in my opinion.

When John Lennon was asked in an interview whether Ringo is the best drummer in the world, he replied “He’s not even the best drummer in The Beatles.” He was joking of course. Paul McCartney tells of the hairs standing up on the back of his neck the first time the band played with Ringo. You only need to listen to The Beatles’ Hamburg recordings pre-Ringo to know the value of Ringo. All my life, I’ve heard stories of how Pete Best, the original drummer, was unfairly kicked out of The Beatles when they were just on the brink of stardom. John, Paul and George were jealous of Pete’s good looks, so the theory goes. They denied him his rightful place in rock history and all the adulation and money! The truth of the matter was that he was nowhere near as good a drummer as Ringo was. Ringo was special. Drummers know this. Casual listeners do not.

When I was younger, I used to love certain guitar solos by Steve Howe of Yes, Jimmy Page of Led Zeppelin and Eric Clapton of Cream. In fact, I still love these solos, but I realise now how much of their magic was supplied by the great drumming that was underpinning them. Without the immense grooves of Bill Bruford, Alan White, John Bonham and Ginger Baker, these solos would have been much less impressive.

Conclusions about drummers

As we have seen, it can be difficult to find a good drummer for your amateur rock band: one who grooves, has good subdivision, plays at reasonable volume levels, turns up to at least some rehearsals and acts in a somewhat sane manner. Due to the difficulty of this task, you may consider paying a good drummer to play or even using a drum machine, despite these two options not being ideal.

Hopefully you have a good network of contacts within the community of musicians where you live, and you can draw on this network in order to find a decent drummer.

(Some names of musicians have been changed in the above blog)





Mark Baxter (c)2024

Names of some individual and bands have been changed

]]><![CDATA[Blog post #13: Drummers of various kinds (1 of 2)]]>Tue, 05 Nov 2024 20:18:34 GMThttps://www.guitarlessons.be/bandblog/13-drummers-1-of-2In this post and the next… Good drummers. Henpecked drummers. The average amateur drummer. Loud drummers. Dave Headache, Ian Womb and Troy Alexander. Gaetan the knife-weilding percussionist. Drum machines? Another disastrous gig for the band Tambana. Ringo’s genius.

Good drummers

Finding a good drummer will be one of your most challenging tasks when forming an amateur rock band. Without a groovy, well-subdivided beat underpinning everything else, your band cannot hope to create magic. After all, rock is rhythmical music first and foremost. You must do all you can to woo a good drummer and get him or her to commit to your band. It’s critical.

Good amateur drummers are in high demand. When you manage to entice one to join your band, you will probably have to share him or her with one or more other local bands. You will be competing for their time. This means you need to constantly check with your drummer when organising rehearsals and gigs, to see if they will be available.

Henpecked drummers

The Henpecked Drummer is a phenomenon I have come across several times over the years. He is a guy who plays the drums well and, in addition to playing with another band, is tasked with further duties by a domineering wife or girlfriend. The Henpecked Drummer is frightened of his partner, and he is not frightened of you. Her demands on his time take priority. He will be unable to attend most rehearsals as he will be busy clothes shopping, assembling an IKEA bookcase, visiting an art museum, hosting in-laws or some other non-important activity. (Not as important as playing in your band anyway.) A common phrase you will hear the Henpecked Drummer say is, “I’ll have to check with the missus first”.

You may need this guy for the sake of the band. Thank God you are NOT this guy! He probably had to hand over his testicles to his partner when they first started dating, and she’s kept them under lock and key ever since. Good drumming skills and high levels of testosterone are not correlated.

On the other hand... The Henpecked Drummer might not be henpecked at all. Perhaps he just uses his wife or girlfriend as a convenient excuse to get out of band rehearsals?

Typical good drummer behaviour

On the occasion when a good drummer actually makes it to a band rehearsal, it will immediately become clear that he has done zero homework for the rehearsal. You Whatsapped him links of songs to learn last week. He didn’t learn them. He didn’t even look at your message. But, not to worry, he simply pulls out his phone at the rehearsal, has a quick listen to the songs on Spotify and immediately nails the drum parts on the first play-through with the band. No problem. And he does so with great groove too.

Because good drummers are in demand, they may receive an offer to play in another band at any moment. Your drummer may decide to take up this offer and drop your band. However, the drummer will generally not tell you this. In my experience, very few musicians say point blank, “I’m leaving the band. Sorry. Bye”. They don’t want the confrontation, the awkwardness. Instead they become less and less available for rehearsals. This is their way of edging out of their commitment to play in the band without being explicit. The popular internet meme of Homer Simpson perfectly encapsulates their method of quitting the band. In the meme, Homer slowly backs up into a hedge until he disappears completely from view, probably to avoid some tiresome social event, like a work colleague’s barbeque. After a while, you become aware that your drummer has similarly disappeared and has in fact left the band for good.

Drummer for hire

To save yourself a lot of hassle and uncertainty, consider paying a good drummer (a pro or semi-pro) to come in for a rehearsal or two and to play gigs. If you are an amateur musician with a decently-paid full-time job, playing gigs should not be about you earning money. You are not in it for the money. The money earned from playing gigs is only validation that you are doing well. Your band will probably only get paid £200 per bar gig anyway. So, why not reward a good drummer? Give him the full gig payment, perhaps some more too, and reap the benefits of all of his hard work and dedication to his craft. He’s spent countless hours behind the drum kit during his lifetime. His tidy subdivisions will allow you to play more easily. Guitar parts you couldn’t play with previous drummers will become effortless now. His great dynamics will add another dimension to the band. And, the payment will mean he is more likely to actually turn up. So, if you happen to know a good local drummer who would be willing, treat yourself.

Hiring a pro/semi-pro drummer is not a long-term strategy as he may suddenly have to leave town to go on tour with a pro band if the opportunity arises. But you’ll have a great time in the meantime.

The average amateur drummer

The alternative to finding or hiring a good drummer is using the average amateur drummer. The upside of using the average amateur drummer is that they will be available for nearly every rehearsal and gig. The downsides may include the following:


  • Dodgy subdivisions, a.k.a. dropping the cutlery drawer on the kitchen floor.
  • Overly pushing the rhythm faster, a.k.a. “goosing”.
  • Coming out of fills too fast and early (very common).


Many amateur drummers seem to concentrate on texture first and foremost, i.e., the dynamics, subtle differences in volume, making the sound of the drums more 3D with some sounds at very low volume (ghost notes), some at medium volume and some loud and in your face. It takes skill to play with texture, so this is definitely a plus for a drummer. However, this skill often comes at the expense of playing with good timing.

I will mention rhythmical deficiencies that amateur drummers (and other musicians) often suffer from in other blog posts titled Wonky Subdividers, The Rhythmically Dyslexic and Excessive Goosers.

Ridiculously loud drummers

Drums are loud. Unlike a guitar or a keyboard, there is no volume control on an acoustic drum set. However, some drummers have a subtle touch and, if the situation requires it, they can play quietly. Maybe they’ll use Rutes (a.k.a. Hot rods) occasionally. Rutes are quieter than regular drum sticks. Other drummers though, have one setting only, regardless of the situation. And this setting is: Ridiculously loud.

I’ve met three ridiculously loud drummers in my time: Dave Headache, Troy Alexander and Ian Womb.

Dave Headache played for a while in the afore-mentioned Shiny Exciters band, with Colin Europe and myself. Dave tried, for our benefit in rehearsals, to play quietly. He could never manage to do it though. His time-keeping went out of the window as soon as he lightened up his touch. In spite of this inability to play at low volumes, he was actually a good drummer in the John Bonham style with a lot of technique and massive amounts of energy. He sounded good at gigs, but rehearsals in small practice rooms were uncomfortable for the band and ear plugs were needed. It’s always less enjoyable to play with ear plugs as you lose all the high end. The sound is muffled. And you have to keep taking them out to communicate with the others between songs.

Another drummer I knew, Troy Alexander from the band Dad Bod Millionaires, was nearly an exact photocopy of Dave Headache. He also could not temper his loud drumming. Troy once asked me to sound engineer at a Dad Bod Millionaire gig. It was in a tiny bar. When I arrived at the bar, Troy handed me a complete set of microphones to mic up his drum kit and put it through the P.A. speakers for extra volume. Suffice to say, I did not use these.

After the sound check, the owner of the bar approached me and said, “Please turn down the volume. It’s way too loud!” He then immediately turned around and walked off before I could respond. Little did he know that Troy’s drums were the factor that determined the volume level of the band. I had zero control over the volume of Troy’s drum kit. All I could do was adjust the other instruments to somewhat match Troy’s volume. And I had to do this otherwise the music would have been ridiculously unbalanced: it would have been mostly drums with a tiny voice singing and tiny instruments playing faintly in the background. I passed on the owner’s concerns to Troy. Troy shrugged his shoulders.

Once the audience arrived and the band launched into their first number, it became immediately clear to me that the sound check had been a muted affair. Troy, and therefore the band, were playing much louder now! Troy had gotten excited by the presence of the audience. I saw the bar owner’s face drain. He had now lost his opportunity to negotiate over the volume level: the gig was under way and a room full of people were enjoying themselves (despite undergoing a degree of permanent hearing loss!)

Near the end of the gig, I had to leave the mixing desk in the hands of someone else. I had to go and catch the last train home. As I ran to the station, I could still clearly hear the Dad Bods from two blocks away.

Relations with the bar’s neighbours probably soured significantly that evening. When I walked past the bar in the subsequent months, I saw posters in the window advertising upcoming comedy nights and salsa dancing nights, but never another band night. So, Troy’s excessively loud playing probably reduced the area’s music scene by one venue that evening!

Since this gig, Troy Alexander’s name and that of the Dad Bod Millionaires has come up in my conversations with other local musicians several times. Mention of Troy and his band is always followed by the comment, “Too loud!” or words to this effect. “Too loud” is the overriding impression that one is left with after attending a Dad Bod Millionaire gig.

Ian Womb, yet another super loud drummer I’ve encountered, used to organise a local open mic night. He would often play drums for the different acts. Ian’s open mic night changed venue four times in about six years, due to neighbour complaints. Eventually, I saw a post on Ian’s Facebook page announcing that their would be no more open mic nights. I think Ian had run out of available venues in town. A less heavy-handed drummer would have been able to continue at each of these venues, I’m sure.



(The names of some musicians and bands in the above post have been changed to protect identities)


Mark Baxter (c)2024




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