youngraven: (suffer)
So as of last week, Bríd acquired a sister: Ainé. She's a 12" amber coloured goat. I jokingly remarked to my sister that if I manage to come across a drum with a white rim, I can row them up and make a Tri-colour. Up the Republic, indeed. It occurs to me that doing this might be taking things a bit too far.

So. I think Bríd is a bit jealous, but needn't be, as I fully intend to give both drums their due.

...'cos they're so different like. Bríd is quiet, polite, and mellow - whereas Ainé is shaping up to be a force of nature. Bríd's head seems a bit more susceptible to changes in a room's overall climate than Ainé. Since I've only a case for one drum, I left Ainé out on a table for a week. Bríd's tone would have run the gamut (I believe calfskins simply do this), whereas Ainé stayed steady. 

So that at the outset was interesting - and she only varied the wee-est of bits at sesh last night, and that room can never make its mind up whether it wants to be dry or wet. 

Ainé is never quite so forgiving as is Bríd. Bríd is warm and mellow-sounding enough to hide the occasional dodgy pitch or dropped beat, whereas Ainé calls out 'OHAI! Heard what you did there! Guess what - so did everybody else!!11 XD' 

:|

I really did need the excuse to tighten it all up. Laxity amidst one's mates is all too easy, really. This isn't the first time that I've been manoeuvred into changing up my style by Mr Alfonso's wares. XD


youngraven: (suffer)
That's an odd title for an entry, innit?

Only it's true: the smell of the curing contact cement adhering the neoprene made my head a bit swimmy.

Or in English, Bríd's back home, and I think she'll be alright. She played well tonight, I think. I'm going to mind how I treat her though. I'm still a bit spooked.

 
youngraven: (suffer)
So. Here's how it happened: I was in the middle of a gig when a circular patch in my drum's head went slack - never mind that the outer rim of the head surrounding that patch was alarmingly (as in 'take cover, she's going to blow') taut.

I did what any staid and stoic semi pro would do: I panicked. At the break, I raced behind the pub to phone Albert and gibber like a scared wee thing whose drum has just gone thmok when it should have gone something near to a G.

Silently, I did lament to myself how it seems I end up with a drum with a fouled head (although, in honesty Caitrín may have a fine head; I simply don't like the tone she produces). Got to be player error somehow. I'd got used to plastic drum heads that don't require the care and feeding of natural heads.

Since Albert's convinced it can't be a dodgy skin, there are two possibilities that come to my mind barring the skin being wonky:
  • I've been too hard on the head
  • It could be the weather
(I heart bullets, don't you?) 

If I've ballsed up the head. it's for lack of a crossbrace (this is my first ever drum without one, so I could have done). Over the years, I built my playing style round using that crossbrace for leverage. I'd use a crossbrace, 'cos till recently, most drums were too large for me to control without one - I've explained this many's the time before, so. Only I never felt myself pushing that hard, and Albert (who's seen me since then) has never said 'AAAAHWhatAreYouDoing1111!!11Eleven!!BBQ!11' And he would do. In fact, that would be a direct quote, barbecue and all. 

(Sings) Oh, god - could it be the weather? It could be, in fact, the weather. Albert's the first to say that his drums favour a certain level of humidity, and there's still rather a drought. A few times when I fetched her out, it required me using both hands to work the tuning keys. It startled me once; I feared the head would split, and so I began the practise of downtuning her after a night's play. Apparently, that's the very thing Albert had told me not to do for at least six months. I've no recollexion of this, but in my haste to get my hands on her, I could have spaced on that one. I do know, now, without a doubt that I'm bonding to this drum: I was reluctant to have her back to Albert for repair. I mean, I had to make myself hand over the drum, and then I felt weird watching him leave with her. 

I may well see him tonight - whether he's got Bríd all sorted out...I doubt it. I suppose I'll bring Caitrín to the 'work seisiún' and we'll see what I get out of her. Sigh. Or I could bring Grainne - never mind the plastic head and the fact that she doesn't much like me, she still sounds better than Caitrín. 

I'm exing digits. I want my Bríd back. 

Addendum: Albert's just after phoning, and I will have her back tonight. He's not thrilled with the sound she's giving, so it may well be that she goes back home with him tonight for a new head. I really want this drum to be The One, so I'm actually a bit tense about it.  

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