The Blissful Ignorance of a Rock Drummer
The waiting is the hardest part
I used to play drums in bands. It's been a while now, but I can still remember the specific, antsy feeling I’d get after recording a new album, while I waited around for a few months for it to be released. The booking agent diligently booked shows, and the people at our record company were busy working on reviews and interviews, but as much as I wanted to be involved, there was very little for me to do during this time.
Now that my memoir is finished and set for a June 7 publication, I’m reminded of this restless feeling. But when I played in bands, someone else sang the songs. Someone else wrote the music. Someone else had a lot more pressure on them every night while I sat behind them and played along to their songs. Now, it’s like I’m the singer, the songwriter, and the sole band member. I’ve found myself both choosing to and feeling required to engage more during this quiet part of the process, which feels like a lot more pressure, and also a lot more fun.
I just wrapped up the stressful task of getting blurbs—the bite-sized testimonials that go on the back cover of the book. I spent weeks emailing friends, and friends of friends, trying to get quotes from a curated cast of notable characters that said a more eloquent version of, This book is really good, you should buy it.
Now, I’m setting up a book tour for this June. Of course my publisher is working on the tour, but if I want it to be perfect—which I do—I need to be heavily involved. Only I know the intricacies of what I want to do in Seattle, and why it’s important to include Salt Lake City. Sometimes my need to be involved drives me crazy. I’m quite sure it drives my publisher crazy.
I wonder what drives me—and many people I know—to this hustle; why the first five events on my book tour will require three flights; why I can’t relax, and leave more to the experienced, capable people I work with… or to fate; why I feel like I have to update you by typing this post.
I did this when I was in bands, too. I was both happier and more stressed the more involved I was. I loved booking shows, speaking with our manager on a regular basis, and looking for my own band’s CD in record stores. I also hated doing those things, because they didn’t always yield good news. Sometimes I was happier just playing drums and not asking questions. The blissful ignorance of being a rock drummer can be extremely satisfying.
The good news is, I got some great blurbs, and my book tour is coming together nicely. Now, in my down time, I’m writing new, shorter pieces related to my book to publish as op-eds. It feels counterintuitive—like I’m releasing a new album, and then putting out a few new singles at the same time to draw attention to the album. But that’s the business, and that’s part of the hustle.
Speaking of the hustle—
If you’re going to SXSW, I’m taking part in a keynote conversation with Austin luminary Andy Langer on Thursday, March 17 at 1pm. More info here. I’m hoping that one of the few silver linings of the past two years is that SXSW feels more like it did the first time I went in 1996… pre cell phone, pre livestream, but definitely post queso.
I hope you’re well, and I hope to see you somewhere along my book tour in June (dates and info coming soon).
Nabil Ayers / Brooklyn