I love drums. I really love drums. No, I mean, I love drums so much that I’ll make poor financial and personal decisions to buy drums. I’ve lived in several places: a tent in the highlands of Ethiopia,
a van in the Walmart parking lot, a farmhouse in the East Tennessee hills, a busy apartment complex that once was a chocolate factory—in none of these locations was I able to play real drums. For a time they were too expensive, or weather conditions were poor, or I just couldn’t bring them to a remote location.
I was forced to play my drums using a laptop and a keybed. I would try tapping the notes rhythmically, then selecting features that “humanized” the sound in the hopes that I could fool everyone into believing I was Max Roach, his playing beckoning the sun to rise, or perhaps Art Blakey, his swing enticing the moon to peek out of the night sky.
Then there’s Martyn.
His recent, excellent, album, Music For Existing, sounds like he was released—at least momentarily—from the confines of his keybed to make music that effortlessly sounds human. My only complaint: he strays too close to the quantize button in a few moments throughout the album. Nevertheless, unlike a drum set in a tent in the highlands of Ethiopia, checking out his work and discography would not be a poor financial or personal decision.