Currently, and in the not-too-distant past, I prided myself on being a professional drummer (well, percussionist, for you people who go to the cinema, as opposed to the movies). And one of the things anybody into semi-technical things are into is basically the pornography of the tools we use. Photographers are like this, and sooner or later I'll get some pornography of what I shoot with and why up on this blog (if you can stand it). However, as a drummer, I don't recall ever being interested in getting pictures of my gear and I don't remember taking any pictures, so the photos that I discovered in an old envelope must've been taken by someone else.
But the photos listed below are of a few of the drumsets I've played in my early years as a drummer. The first set, the black Slingerland, was my first proper kit mom and dad got me when I was 11 (back in '77-'78 or so). Hardly state-of-the-art at the time and I recall dad complaining about it costing so much ($499 was the price then). Of course, I wanted a bigger set, something with two bass drums and eight tom toms, because you know, when you're 11, you think you can play and your parents don't know anything about what you need to make music! But I accepted it graciously and proceeded to drive mom and dad up the wall playing the drums everyday for two or three hours from the time I was 11 until my early 20s through college! I grew to love the black Slingerland, as it got me started playing out with other people and actually earned its keep.
Of course, other drumsets came and went too. The next one below it, are clear Ludwig Vistalites. I found them covered with duct tape piled in a corner of a Guitar Center in the late '80s. The guy sold them to me for $150. I brought them home, dismantled them and buffed them out to their former clear glory and added some new hardware to it - and then sold it in a month to a Japanese collector for $1500. I did use them on a few gigs before I sold them, but I thought they were too distracting and they didn't encourage playing naked. This little time capsule covers 1977 to about 1986.
The next two are actually the same drumset. It's still a Slingerland (notice how I've been influenced by the famous drummers of my day? Buddy Rich and Gene Krupa played Slingerland, along with a host of other great players, but when the Japanese companies rose to power in the '80s, Slingerland was one of the first to go under because they just couldn't keep up. Sad.) and I got this white marine pearl covered kit after trading it to some kid in Burbank who really dug these other, ugly drums I had in '87. I had to modify the spurs on the bass drum to help keep the drum in place because I was a slammer then and it wasn't odd for me to have the bass drum sliding all over the place because I hit it so hard. Then around 1993, I took these same drums, found a slightly larger bass drum shell, and had the guys at Pro Drum Shop in Hollywood recover the entire kit in Black Oyster Pearl (yeah, Ringo's color). And that kit served me until about '97.
Of course, there have been other kits, like an old Gretsch I had, a Yamaha Recording Custom, Tama Superstars, more Ludwigs, Drum Workshop, on up to my current Tama Starclassic Bubinga Elite and my sidekick Sonor Safari. But to me, finding these crappy snapshots really reminds me of how far I've come and how long I've been doing this. And this has nothing to do with actually becoming a better player over the years. These are just things I've owned and used, nothing more, nothing less. As time marches on you tend to cherish those times that have passed, and seeing these kits again bring back that feeling of who I was with at that time and the music we made. It was awesome.
And then, in '97, I went weird and stopped playing with others and became a solo act. I played an instrument called a Zendrum, and sang and basically made music with computers and synthesizers. Made alot of money, but didn't have quite as much fun. Actually started working alot more with that and then began to question why I had studied percussion for so long. Here's the wife modeling the Zendrum:
It was cool, and I initially dug it, but it was obviously not good for all things drumming. It did what it did well. Well, well enough. So, see? Photography can even remind you of things you probably shouldn't have done....
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