a sneak-peek through my brain: decisions, decisions

At my other music blog, I go into detail about the decision-making process behind how I record and what I record, as a singer-songwriter who self-produces her own albums.

I did all the writing over there, and you can check it out if you're interested.

At the risk of being real and warty, I've posted myself playing percussion accompaniment to roughly the same section of one of my songs, four times, each with a different instrumentation. I wanted to get a sense of how each might work.

I was limited by my technology and by lack of practice time from my hand injury, but whatever.
Warts and all, here they are.

Drum kit. (Suitcase bass drum):

 

Drum pad (a la BYOS, but way, WAY simpler):

Bucket drum:

Standup Cajon:

In the end, I will probably just go with vocal and guitar. Because the whole percussion accompaniment thing isn't fully formed enough for me to be happy with any of these options, I'll let them go for now, and maybe I'll come back to them later.
But it was fun to mess around with all these options.

Anyway, there it is. Feel free to read the other blog to get the complete picture.

I promise that when I'm past all the recording details, I'll post something here again about vintage drums. Cheers!

drumming and hand injuries: an experience

For several weeks leading up to the High Holy Days, my left hand was giving me more and more trouble. I developed a locking action in my middle finger that made it difficult -- and increasingly painful -- to uncurl my hand from a fist. My thumb was also sore in the joint connecting it to my hand. I powered through guitar playing all the way through a few days after Yom Kippur, but last Monday morning I hit a wall and could not move my left hand without pain.

That evening, after calling my doctor, I was squeezed into the schedule at my local urgent care center to get a cortisone shot for what had been diagnosed as "trigger finger" in my middle finger. The shot itself was incredibly painful -- levels of sharp and dull pain alternating in waves across my hand that made me yowl in reaction -- not once, but twice.

After the shot, my hard hurt quite a lot for two days, during which I alternated icing and resting at room temperature. I also purchased some compression gloves, recommended by my sister; she told me they make a difference in living with arthritis. I found them to be surprisingly constricting at first, but with subsequent wearings they loosened and softened up a little and I found them to be helpful if I wore them for periods of time.

Today, six days after the shot, I tentatively tried some slow double strokes on a rubber pad to see how it felt. As long as I did not push, and focused on keeping things as slow and relaxed as possible, I could play without pain.  I was thrilled.

I recorded myself so I could look at my hands.

While transitioning from one tempo to a slightly faster one, things got a little rough; but overall I was able to stay relaxed and grounded. Encouraged, I shared my video with friends on the Marching Percussion 101 Facebook group, and their response was very positive.

What did I learn from this experience? A few things.

First, injuries happen. Sometimes they're caused by an impact, other times they're the result of wear and tear and/or overuse. I have osteoarthritis, so I know that I walk a fuzzy line between staying active enough and using my hands too much. Still, I play multiple instruments professionally and I practice almost daily, so overuse is a real risk for me. So is living in a climate where winters are cold and very damp. Still, I make the most of what I have and try to pace myself as much as I can.

I also try to listen to my body, so that when the first signs of "something's not right" appear, I can take time, pay attention and try to tell the difference between a mere strain or bad hand position and something more intense like overuse. When something's truly not right, I can stop and seek help.

After treatment, I listen to my doctor and follow her instructions. In this case, that meant rest. Rest meant a total cessation of activities, including making the bed or washing pots and pans along with playing any of my instruments. And while it was challenging, I did it. And it made a difference.

I'm happy to say that I'm feeling much better, and hope not to repeat the experience of a cortisone shot anytime soon.

play outside

During this week, my partner and I are both serving congregations as cantorial soloists.
But we're serving different communities and have to practice different music and/or settings.
In our very small house, that sometimes means we take turns practicing and the other goes somewhere else for an hour ot two to give each other some space and time alone in the house.

It was my turn the other day, so I took sticks and a pad over to the park and chopped out a little.

Since hanging out on the Marching Percussion Group on Facebook, I've learned quite a lot and have gotten exercises, advice and encouragement from some very experienced drummers, including a few rockstars who marched in drum corps in the 1960s and early 70s. Since my drumming in town is limited to to the community band I play with now and then, where the musical challenges are more ensemble based than rudimentally based, My rudimental chops are developing slowly after my eight-year hiatus in the late 90s-early 2000s; and I am slowly making up for some of the lost time.

My flams STILL suck, mostly because of my arthritic left hand; and I can play more easily only after soaking my hands in hot water in the mornings before I play. But my rolls and diddle exercises are smoother now, and I enjoy playing more than I did when I started back up again.

If time and logistics permitted, I would love to find a rudimentally-based drumline to chop out with, even if just for fun once a month.