The right gig at the right time

In September 2008 just before I started ROCK-TIL-YOU-DROP, I had just found a drummer on Gumtree. I ran an ad much like the one that is out there now. An honest one. It got one response. Thankfully, one was enough. I got lucky and met a new friend as well as drummer. Since then, because of hobbyist-differences, we had to part musical ways.

I'd already conceived of RTYD in September 2008, and wanted it to include a musicians ads site devoted to older musicians in order to cut out all that scrolling through teenage and 20-something drummers who aren't yet desperate enough to join a band comprising three grumpy old grey-hairs.

What I was yet to discover was that there was something else, other than age, that divided drummers, and mature drummers in particular. And that is the requirement of many that they join a semi-professional or professional band, i.e. one that plays regularly and gets paid to do so. They aren't interested in practicing. They don't care if it's originals or covers. They aren't interested in putting a new set together. In being in a 'gang'. They just want to get on with it. They want instant gratification. They are after all in high-demand, and can therefore afford to be choosy.

Mature hobbyist drummers are good honest people. However, as well as being few and far between, they are also virtually all already in bands. This, or their drum kits are in the loft gathering dust, or the garage gathering rust. Since October 2008, I have met loads of drummers, many of which I would happily play with. Unfortunately, they are all taken. This reminds me of school and when I fancied girls who were already spoken for. This happened a few times. Often, the most I could do then, was wait, and the best I could hope for was that before too long the boyfriend would find some other girl to finger at the Wilfred Noyce Disco and the girl of my obsession would chuck him. I had to be patient basically, and then in the right disco at the right time to get the girl, in the end.

So along with checking the usual musicians sites, I may well be found waiting in the wings at the end of your gig, hoping that your quietly frustrated drummer finally throws in his towel and storms off stage, knocking me over in the process. After the apology and hand up, and on receipt of the replacement pint, I am given the perfect opportunity to introduce my drummerless-self, if my drummerless-self is not already familiar to them.

Lock up your drummers.