One of the more peculiar developments in my life that was a direct result of the social distancing mandates of COVID-19 was a really strong desire to go to a rehearsal space, anywhere, anytime to rehearse. This is admittedly a really small thing compared to all of the major changes that have taken place since it all started, but it kind of changed my understanding of the role rehearsal spaces have played in my life and I think others may feel the same way, so I thought I would share my thoughts.

When all the social restrictions first came out, I really didn’t mind if it was going to help reduce the transmission of COVID-19. On a personal level, I was totally fine with travel restrictions since it just meant I didn’t have to get up at 5 a.m. to travel across the country for a meeting I could have over Zoom. As painful as Zoom is, and with all of the inefficiencies that come with online meetings, on a personal level it still beats the road warrior thing, hands down. I could make the same case about practicing. I have a drum room in my house and lots of time where I am the only one there. I even have a dreaded electronic kit for quiet practices when the family is home. I also have guitars, amps and recording equipment like so many of us do now that allow us to do pretty much everything from home, which I am not devaluing. Had the pandemic hit in 1990, none of this would have been possible. In fact, many Noble & Cooley artists are session players, and several of them have told me that their lives haven’t changed all that much as they record parts in their home studios, send them over to the producers or engineers and business goes on as usual. Again, this too could not have taken place in 1990. So, this part is great.

But.

I know, here I go again. Technology is great, but it isn’t a substitute for human interaction, and music is about creativity, communication and connection. Well, yeah, I still feel that way and I think most people do, and I think all this distancing is underscoring it for a lot of people. So, back to the rehearsal space. During my most active years playing, I had the above-mentioned drum room in my house. I could play whenever I wanted within reason (neighbors). Although I played a lot during the week at home in between band practices, Saturday was my marathon practice day. Unless the band had a gig or recording session, we didn’t play on Saturdays, and the practice space was mine alone. So this was – write drum parts, develop chops, jam out and just enjoy playing the drums. To do these things, all I had to do was finish my iced coffee and walk downstairs to practice on my home kit in climate controlled comfort.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I drove a 30-minute backroad commute with lots of traffic lights to go to a repurposed 19th century brick factory with no heat or air conditioning, horrible bathrooms, bad lighting, faulty electricity, poor maintenance and no security. At the time, I never thought about why I drove all the way to the rehearsal space when I could have just gone downstairs. Or, if I did, I probably thought I was going to a dedicated “work environment” so I could focus and wouldn’t get distracted by the dishwasher, the lawnmower or the beer fridge. But this whole COVID-19 thing gave me a new perspective on rehearsal spaces. We all complain about them for the reasons I just described, plus the expense, the frequent need to share with other bands, collecting rent and all that. All of this is of course true. But looking back on it now, I think I drove to the rehearsal space to practice because I was surrounded by other musicians. We all had kind of the same ritual — rehearse, take a break, stop by a fellow musician’s spot, talk music and life. Or they came to me and we would share musical ideas, talk about each other’s gigs, talked gear, show each other stuff we’d learned and occasionally talk about subjects not involving music. We all came from completely different backgrounds, often played different types of music and had different life views. But the common ground was music. An automatic unspoken commonality and bond. Mutual respect and friendships that have lasted years with people I would never have met otherwise.

I’m not the type to have friends that just hang at the bar to watch football or play golf and hang at the country club, though I’m not looking down on these scenarios. They have the same theme with different interests. But I do like hanging at the spot, checking out what some other guys are doing, sharing ideas, spontaneous jams and sitting in. Then bullshitting afterward or sharing a pizza or beer (beer always becomes a distraction at some point). I always came home on these days, physically drained and sweaty, but also having learned something new on the drums enriched with some shared experience with musician friends. That’s a pretty good deal from a lowly practice space. At Noble & Cooley, we recently released our new Union Series drum kits. To me, the ideal way to break these in is to get to my rehearsal space early, dial them in and warm up, then listen how they sound live with the band. This can’t be Zoomed.

Interestingly, the big-time professional players I speak with through Noble & Cooley have kind of shared the same thing. So many of them used to touring have had their livelihoods pulled out from under them. They also have the same distancing challenges and have been unable to get together to rehearse and have the shared live experience. Their rehearsal spaces may be rented arenas, but the experience is similar, and they miss it.

I have been hearing for months that the live music scene has changed forever. I don’t agree. It certainly is disrupted right now. Some of my good friends in the touring industry have had to take work outside music because of everything going on. Plus, all kinds of workarounds have come up — live streaming concerts, interactive live viewing, social distanced concerts including the so un-rock and roll drive-in theater concerts. (I think the only way this would be cool is if At The Drive In did it.) Don’t get me wrong, I am not making fun of those who have these concerts; I applaud them for being creative and trying to find a way to keep things going. Semper Fi.

However, we need genuine, old-school, live music. Despite all the technology that allows remote viewing, I believe everything will eventually return to normal. Musicians want to play live with other musicians, and audiences want to see their favorite artists in person. The crowd is a huge part of the experience (look at pro sports right now). The band feeds off it, it’s fun to be in the crowd, and it’s really one giant common experience instead of a bunch of small individual ones. People want to go to the movies, to see live sports, eat at restaurants, attend concerts and everything else. We were not meant to be cooped up and isolated. We will persevere, and when things ease up, my guess is we will all go back to doing what we love and living life to the fullest. Music will be at the forefront of this for many of us, and certainly for us drummers. We will be back on stage and loving it, playing to fans who are loving it. And when I bring my gear home at 2 a.m., I will appreciate my practice spot just a little bit more than before.

People, Practice Spaces & Live Music