Thursday, July 08, 2004
Wankery
There's one attorney at work who, ever since finding out I play drums, calls me into his office to monologue about his favorite band, Rush. If by chance you're not well-versed in cheesy '80s prog rock, Rush features one of the all-time greatest wankers ever to pound the skins. That's right, I'm talking Neal Pert, the man who turned the simple drum kit into a symphony of toms, cymbals, and completely unnecessary accessories -- does one really need wind chimes? They are a nice companion piece for the four kick drums, it's true. And let's be honest, a "regular" drum set does not allow for Neal's signature epic ten minute solos. I guess you can only admire a man with that much unabashed hubris.
So the conversations between the attorney and I usually consist of him discoursing on the wankery, why this solo's better than that one, how you've got to be a crazy person to think later Rush dominates early Rush, etc. Me, I grin a lot and interject the occasional "definitely", "he's so crazy", "whoa". I don't even try to explain why he sucks. I dreaded giving him a copy of my old band's CD, but he wouldn't let it go. "Hmm", he observed while listening. I'm sure he wondered why I wasn't totally going off in every song. If only I had discovered chimes back then.
There's one attorney at work who, ever since finding out I play drums, calls me into his office to monologue about his favorite band, Rush. If by chance you're not well-versed in cheesy '80s prog rock, Rush features one of the all-time greatest wankers ever to pound the skins. That's right, I'm talking Neal Pert, the man who turned the simple drum kit into a symphony of toms, cymbals, and completely unnecessary accessories -- does one really need wind chimes? They are a nice companion piece for the four kick drums, it's true. And let's be honest, a "regular" drum set does not allow for Neal's signature epic ten minute solos. I guess you can only admire a man with that much unabashed hubris.
So the conversations between the attorney and I usually consist of him discoursing on the wankery, why this solo's better than that one, how you've got to be a crazy person to think later Rush dominates early Rush, etc. Me, I grin a lot and interject the occasional "definitely", "he's so crazy", "whoa". I don't even try to explain why he sucks. I dreaded giving him a copy of my old band's CD, but he wouldn't let it go. "Hmm", he observed while listening. I'm sure he wondered why I wasn't totally going off in every song. If only I had discovered chimes back then.