Age to Age: Part 34 of the Drummer's Almanac
My wife and I were watching an interview with Neil Peart that took place in Canada in 1996. He was thinner, much less grey, and a lot more full of life.
The first thing Casey said was, "He looks happier." This interview was a year before Neil lost his wife and only daughter. He was definitely younger looking.
Now, after those tragic events in 1997 (the same year I lost my mom), he looks older. It shows in his posture. You can't hear a difference. In fact, He's sounds more masterful than ever. You can just see the difference in his eyes.
I think back to when I first started playing drums. How I used to approach music and my playing. It was more raw. Less methodical, but more gut level. It had an energy. I think that's why you see old dudes trying to relive the past by playing classic rock. They want to feel that hunger they felt at sixteen.
I still feel it. When I hear a certain song or groove. It fires me up and I make a face. My nose wrinkles up and my lips stick out. It's like when people throw up the rock sign and bang their head. Absurd, but rockin'.
The good thing that comes with age is technique. It's all about the technique. After seventeen years of playin', I better have something to show for it. I can sometimes even make it look easier than what it is, given the right situation. Which is just enough to keep my self esteem at a low level resonant buzz.
That is until I listen to that old guy(51) with bags under his eyes, greying hair, and that sagging posture make my playing sound like a train wreck.
The first thing Casey said was, "He looks happier." This interview was a year before Neil lost his wife and only daughter. He was definitely younger looking.
Now, after those tragic events in 1997 (the same year I lost my mom), he looks older. It shows in his posture. You can't hear a difference. In fact, He's sounds more masterful than ever. You can just see the difference in his eyes.
I think back to when I first started playing drums. How I used to approach music and my playing. It was more raw. Less methodical, but more gut level. It had an energy. I think that's why you see old dudes trying to relive the past by playing classic rock. They want to feel that hunger they felt at sixteen.
I still feel it. When I hear a certain song or groove. It fires me up and I make a face. My nose wrinkles up and my lips stick out. It's like when people throw up the rock sign and bang their head. Absurd, but rockin'.
The good thing that comes with age is technique. It's all about the technique. After seventeen years of playin', I better have something to show for it. I can sometimes even make it look easier than what it is, given the right situation. Which is just enough to keep my self esteem at a low level resonant buzz.
That is until I listen to that old guy(51) with bags under his eyes, greying hair, and that sagging posture make my playing sound like a train wreck.
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