The Roots' "Dynamite!" - J Dilla, Samples and Feel

The world of drumming has been ablaze with something mostly referred to as ‘The Dilla Feel’ for many years now, and there are a lot of great articles and videos out there on the subject. However I thought I’d contribute to the pool with a tune from hip-hop band, The Roots.

One of my favorite tunes the album Things Fall Apart is titled “Dynamite!” (with the exclamation). Now, this song doesn’t have the ‘Dilla Feel’ that so many drummers are worked up about, but it highlights a different aspect of how J Dilla’s production could create other types of unique feels that take rhythmic sophistication to emulate. Until I started to understand the value of J Dilla’s production methods, I didn’t realize that the slight off-time rub between the sampled guitar and the drums was the secret magic in the track. When you listen to ?uestlove’s beat against the guitar, there’s this lateness (in the guitar) that is spaced almost like a swung 32nd note, which is what I’m terming the ‘rub’. It almost comes across as a sloppy or off-time thing at a glancing listen, but it’s a very intentional part of the groove.

Looking up the song on whosampled.com revealed that the jazz guitar lick I’d originally thought was a session tracked instrument for the album was actually the guitar from the song “Indiana” by Zoot Sims (Time reference 1:48):

The trick for a drummer in playing this is that we’re actually sitting ahead of one of the melodic instruments while ourselves still being laid back and not ‘on top’ of the beat. A pocket like this takes a lot of spacial awareness in the groove not to try to lay back with the guitar.

Some other fun intrigues here, see The Roots performing Dynamite! live. Jeremy Ellis is on the MPC, ?uestlove of course on drums (time stamp 2:28):

Also, check out Nate Smith + Kinfolk’s jazz interpretation of the song here, in which Smith is subtly referencing a feel inspired by J Dilla:

Ida Ho Ho

This year I am blessed to have been able to participate in the Ida Ho Ho annual music charity event. We did a concert that I didn't blog about, but we also did an album, on which I contributed drums to a couple of tracks:

The first of these tracks, "Holly Chase" is an original song written by my wife Lindsey Hunt, and recorded/produced by Steve Fulton at the Audio Lab. The song is based on a character in the book "The Afterlife of Holly Chase" by Cynthia Hand.
The second track is a reworking of the traditional song we all know, with some fun funky pseudo-reggae jamminess to it.

The CD's are limited and available at The Record Exchange, and all proceeds go to benefit the Women's and Children's Alliance.

Rhythmic Analogies

Studying and teaching rhythm over the years has helped me see that rhythm is a part of most activities, if not in some way metaphorically or literally all. Its application can be quite tangible, but looking at it can be very abstract and confusing to the student. This is why I’ve always enjoyed seeking out new and interesting analogies to present to students when looking for ways to express the subtleties of rhythm. With one of my current adult students we are working through how to relax our time, as it is coming across very stiffly and uncomfortably. He is a jogger, so we took the time to look at jogging. Since this is an activity most of us are at least somewhat familiar with, for a moment imagine a few different scenarios:

1.    You take the time to stretch your body, you feel warm and loose, and begin to jog.

2.    As stiffly as possible, you try to move at a similar speed to the jog, but instead marching with your arms rigidly by your side.

3.    Perhaps inhibited by alcohol, blindfolded, or as if in a dream, you are jogging barefoot on the sand of soft rolling hills.

Now consider for a moment that in each of these examples we are moving at the exact same speed. But the feeling of that movement is very different in each example. We can use this as an analogy for the expression of rhythm. Our first example is generally my target feeling for my students to acquire. The second example is a great way to demonstrate what stiff playing sounds like through the analogy of feeling. The third example is perhaps an opposite analogy for what we might sound or feel like when our sense of rhythm is unhinged and we are playing sloppily.
So back to the aforementioned student, what we are attempting to do is learn an unfamiliar and less tangible concept through something familiar and physically understood by the body, as well as conceptually easy to grasp. We know that a stiff body can make jogging uncomfortable. When the body is loose and relaxed it is easier to capture a steady rhythm and get into the groove of jogging.
Okay, now consider the breath as we jog. Over how many jogging steps do you take to inhale? To exhale? It depends a bit on our tempo, but I know for myself, at my most comfortable jog I breathe in on two and a half steps, and out the same or possibly a step more. Matching the rhythm of our breathing to our jogging step is both a way to delve a little deeper into the trance of motion and also to build consistency into the practice. This is no different with drumming.
When learning new and complex rhythms, our mind is often bogged down with various aspects of our playing. The overactive mind can sometimes interfere with steady breathing and we will suddenly find ourselves breathing erratically or holding our breath. This is something we should immediately seek to resolve when we find it, because it affects the feeling of rhythm as much as stiffness in the limbs does. So again, our analogy holds true, and we find that through the familiar we can more readily explore the unfamiliar. As a practicing drummer, one should seek to find rhythmic analogies in all aspects of life. This benefits us in both directions. From the side we have been discussing, we will find ways to more easily analyze our playing. But from the other angle, what we learn on the kit can inform and expand our understanding of how to perform other tasks in life with greater fluidity and relaxed effort.

If you'd like to dig deeper into this kind of approach to the kit, I highly recommend Billy Ward's DVD Big Time. His approach is a bit different than what I'm saying here, however he brilliantly addresses the root of feeling time while playing.

Stay Uncomfortable

Sitting in an airport waiting for the band to pick you up is a good time to write a blog. 

So although I'm primarily a drummer by trade, I also stage manage a group called the Young Dubliners. The job involves being a guitar tech, a drum tech, a monitor engineer, sometimes being a security guy, rarely being a lighting director, and always being on point to solve ANY problem that arises during their live performance. I'd say I'm a master of none of these skills, but I'm decent at all of them. In truth, the job requires a serviceable knowledge of every single thing on stage. 
So, I met the Dubs years ago when I was in a band called The Janks. The two bands shared a booking agent and over the years I eventually got offered the job with them. Although I don't think of myself as the most qualified guy out there, many musicians and engineers over the years have asked me about the job or expressed wishes to have the knowledge to do my job. It's been a weird hodgepodge of collected information and experiences over years of being in music that got me to the point that I was qualified enough to get this gig, so I thought I'd talk about it from the standpoint of being a 'drummer first.'
To start with, I was a teenager when I got hired at Metro Music Center in Glendale, AZ. The place is now shuttered along with most of the other ma and pa shops of its kind, but the knowledge I gained there was indispensable. I had to tune about thirty guitars daily, as well as ensure cleanliness and order about them. Over time, I had to learn to change broken strings. The resident guitar tech Dennis taught me bits of his trade over the years and after awhile I became sufficient at making action adjustments and intonating. We also sold PA systems. I had to learn to demo them, so there I developed a basic knowledge of audio hardware and how to use it. This was the early days of digital and ProTools was yet to come out so I really was only working with analog stuff. But we did sell drum machines, so I would program those for fun in my spare time. A few doors down was a small recording studio called The Grey Room. Mark was a nice guy and needed an intern, so I interned there for a bit. I feel like I could've learned much more if I'd paid more attention, but I most certainly gained some meaningful knowledge there which helped set me up for interning at a larger studio when I moved to Los Angeles a few years later.

The trajectory of that story mostly entails me being a drummer, but always dabbling in everything else, from playing guitar and keys, to occasionally working in live or studio settings. I've never been a great engineer, but that's never been my focus. But the fact of the matter is, being okay at everything else has made me a much better drummer.
Here are some key points that I'd say are important for any drummer that is similarly interested in the world around them.

Treat the entire stage/studio as if it were your domain

Especially with drummers, we tend to just focus on our kit, and not anything else around us. "Oh, the guitarist is talking chords with the keyboardist. I guess I'll practice paradiddles," is the wrong way to go. Who cares if you don't know how to play guitar or keys and don't know chord theory? You are playing in the band. They are talking about a song you are playing. Listen to what they're saying. Besides the fact that you may pick up a bit of what they do over time, it may inform your perspective on the music you're playing. Perhaps you'll have an insight about their perspective on a piece of music that will affect your approach and make the song better.
Just as important are the engineers. What they do translates your live acoustic sound into an amplified or digital signal that is shaped as much by the work they do as the finicky selections of cymbals, drums, and drumheads you made over the years of putting your kit together. You should know what they're doing and how the set-up works. It is actually pretty easy to learn by observation how they wire up the stage. This kind of information gives you a lot of flexibility over the years. For instance, you can be in a band that sets up its own PA. You can spot a problem on stage before the show starts, ensuring your band has a better gig. You come across as more of a pro in some situations and can create new opportunities for yourself.

Always ask questions when it's appropriate

This is the pandora's box. Make sure you've got some time to spare before you ask an engineer about their console or a guitarist about their pedal board. This is nearly as good as on the job training. If you really pay attention, you'll learn a lot. I mean, sometimes you'll just learn that people really love their own opinions and like hearing themselves talk. But most of the time you'll learn something you didn't know. In fact, if you don't know anything about the gear you're looking at, you're basically guaranteed to learn something.
Most of the time I've gotten in conversations of this sort, I've learned a lot about the perspectives engendered by the other roles surrounding me. And over time, this has done a lot to make me a better player with others. Compared to when I was younger, I listen to the other instruments a lot more and pay attention to how they are approaching the song. I look at what the engineer is doing and how the room is set up, and I adjust my dynamics so that my kit isn't overpowering the PA, or on the opposite hand, that I'm not playing a lot of sensitive and subtle stuff that is going to get lost in a big and loud amplified PA system.

Never miss an opportunity to poach a lesson

The sole reason I am a serviceable guitar player and can plink around on a piano is because I took tons of makeshift lessons from great players over the years. It wasn't so much of a, "hey man, can you give me a thirty minute lesson today after practice?" It was more just like an extended version of the above point, but about playing, and with me holding a guitar in my hands or something like that. I worked with a handful of highly trained guitarists over the years that had degrees from MIT or USC and they all knew their shit. So when I asked them, "why does this sound cool," or "how do you get your hand to do the thing," they were almost always happy to take a minute to show me.
Same thing with mixing. I didn't know shit about solving feedback problems on stage at first. So I just kept asking. You're allowed to be ignorant. It's scary to show your ignorance if you're trying to learn. It's another thing to wallow in your ignorance or act out of ignorance and make mistakes. Most people appreciate the person that is working hard to learn. They might wonder how the fuck you got your job without knowing a thing, but if they see you're a hard worker and a proactive motherfucker, maybe actually they won't.

Stay Uncomfortable

Ah, there's so much more I could write, and I could probably be more concise, but this is it. Just recognize what your comfort zone is and always be pushing yourself out of it, like getting up out of that warm comfy bed on a particularly early and chilly morning. It's fine to hang back on occasion, but you've gotta keep growing. Just remember that part of being a competent musician lies beyond your instrument and exists in everything around it. You don't need to master it all, just become intimate with it all. Know the world that surrounds you.

The Perfectionist's Sword

Having a perfectionist mentality is a double-edged sword. As a teacher, I always appreciate the student that hungers to perfect the craft. In a sense, there's nothing I desire more in a student than the drive to master their studies! Yet it fascinates me that the same impulses that drive us to get a thing just perfect often come with some reactive qualities that detract from efficiently learning.

One of the techniques I teach my students in mastering a passage through repetition is continuous playthrough. This means to continue playing without stopping the groove, short of mistakes that cause us to completely lose our place in the music. The perfectionist in us though, wants to stop at every error and restart at the beginning, or some relative point. I have found over the years that in most instances though, this approach hinders us. The primary aphorism I use to express this is that, "if you were playing a concert and made a mistake, would you stop the band and the whole song and start over?" The answer, generally speaking, is "no!" The show must go on, as the colloquialism goes. So, with the best of intentions to get a part right, what we are actually doing is training ourselves to stop at every mistake. Thus mentally, we freeze at the realization of an error. This can have disastrous consequences for a performer. 
Therefore, it is necessary to train ourselves in a way where the perfectionist goes away for lunch, and comes back when we have things mostly in order. We play through a passage, get a part of it wrong perhaps, but focus on playing as much of it correctly and in time as we can, recognizing but being only softly critical of the troublesome section. Once we have the general concept acquired, then we gradually increase the intensity of our efforts to play the tricky stuff. The point that we let the perfectionist back in the room is when we have cleanly isolated the spot giving us trouble and we can freely fuck it up without utterly derailing ourselves from playing through it.

In other words, don't be afraid to screw up a tricky fill or complex beat. Just learn to do it without losing your time. If you stop yourself every time you make a mistake, you will choke yourself off from things such as the spirit of improvisation, which is the part of us that sometimes ventures into the expression of experimental musical ideas- things that maybe we'll pull off, maybe we won't. But half the fun of going for it can be the excitement of uncertainty that comes along with it. If you are obsessed with perfection, it will be hard to allow yourself to venture into the unknown, which restricts you from an entire landscape of musical exploration. Again, the key is to will yourself to play through uncertainty and unperfected passages with attention to time. Get back to the "one" and you're probably safe. Then you get to approach it all over again, without having to restart your momentum. This leads to more continuous repetitions of the problematic phrase, giving us a chance to efficiently attack it until we wear down the physical puzzle before us.

Another concern I have with perfectionism is the tendency to overly focus on technical aspects of our playing over feel and style. You can be a technically superior drummer who can diddle and flam your way all over the drum kit while being right on every beat of the metronome, but if you don't let loose, explore the unknown, or stick your neck out once and awhile, there's a good chance you'll sound really square, too. Now, there's a place for that, and there's no right or wrong to things like this. But if I had my druthers I'd go see The Ramones at CBGB's over any RUSH concert ever, is all I'm sayin'.

On the other side of the consideration, I don't encourage sloppiness and carelessness. What I appreciate about the perfectionist is the sharp attention to detail that is being constantly sought out. Indeed, "It's good enough for rock n' roll" is a phrase I've heard indefensibly uttered way too many times as a lazy excuse for unprofessionalism or some hubristic assumption that sloppiness itself translates into style. Sure, there are sloppy musicians that captured a sound and a style and it's amazing when that happens. But it's only a correlation for the most part. Maybe it's part of a mentality, but one that evolved naturally for those magical musical moments and groups in history. Mostly what I see from musicians that actively embrace that kind of attitude or mentality is that they are just way more into their pants and hair than their music.

The key is to keep perfectionism in the right view. We often must relax it for the sake of getting a general feel for a new musical idea- let ourselves be sloppy and gradually mash the thing together until it has some relatively coherent shape to it, and then progressively turn up the dial on perfecting a thing until it sounds and feels exactly like it's meant to.

Musescore

I suppose this is a PSA for other teachers. Over the past year I've been re-building the years of lessons I've taught in digital sheet music. It was always a big time sink writing and rewriting, or even copying music I'd previously written. And I'll tell you, my chicken scratch ain't the best looking notation out there by a long shot. Anyway, I'd been looking into purchasing Sibelius or some similar type of software, and frankly most of it was way beyond what I needed. But I came across Musescore, which is open source and free. I tend to be skeptical of such things functioning without serious bugs or limitations, but over the year or so I've been using it I've been nothing but thrilled with it.

Here's a link to their website: https://musescore.org/

Buddy Miles

Tweet

I was just rolling through my Twitter feed and caught from Modern Drummer that today is the day that in 2008, Buddy Miles passed away. A lot of drummers don't know about Buddy Miles, whose claim to fame was as Jimi Hendrix's second drummer as he evolved from the Experience to the Band of Gypsies incarnation.

Buddy Miles is an important drummer to me for two reasons. One, he was one of the first drummers that really helped me see the difference between just being a drummer and being a musician. Man! Hearing him sing Them Changes while playing the kit totally blew me away. The second reason was how much soul he brought to Jimi's playing, which I had previously associated as being so much more rock. Mitch Mitchell's playing, as incredible as it truly was, also was much more busy and aggressive, so hearing how much change came to the music through Miles' deep and soulful pocket was very profound to me as a young drummer.

If you've never listened to the Band of Gypsies album, it's a must hear. And of course, if you have, now is a good time to remind yourself how much soul and groove Buddy Miles had. Rest in peace.

Buddy Miles - Them Changes by thegonedu69

You can catch a great article about him on Modern Drummer's website here:

http://www.moderndrummer.com/site/2011/04/buddy-miles-the-power-of-soul/

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