"Smack!"

A crisp and loud slap rang out, which was particularly piercing in the silence of the drumming, and everyone was greatly frightened, but before the sound of gasping could be fully released, everyone pursed their lips tightly, and the sound of air disappeared between their lips and teeth.

Involuntarily, everyone held their breath.

Andrew was trying to cheer himself up, there was a low-level repetitive mistake in the performance just now, he played it so many times, and he still made mistakes, and the violence and irritability in his heart broke out instantly, and before he realized it, he raised his right hand and slapped him fiercely-

Even the drumstick in the palm of his hand struck his head hard, leaving a distinct red mark on his forehead.

He didn't know.

Take another deep breath, like a boxer on stage, and begin to twist his head, his neck joints rattle, relax a little, and start playing from the beginning in earnest.

Smooth flow, all in one go.

Precise in rhythm, evenly forced, relaxed and emotional, a song of "whiplash" contains the raging flames in the chest, violent and hot, crazy and wanton catharsis, like the Great Falls of Nicaragua, the mighty roar continues to hit the eardrum like thunder.

After 30 minutes of continuous repetition, everyone in the audience had "calloused ears", and at this moment, they could indeed capture the subtle differences, although they could not say why, and could not recognize whether it was good or bad, but the changes were real.

That hearty feeling of pleasure unreservedly hits everyone's heart.

At this moment, Damien's pupils contracted slightly: the most difficult part came.

Clicking on the jazz drum with the left hand and sling with the right hand, the two rhythms must fit together, although it is not 400 beats, but the rhythm of the beats has broken through 280 - it is still a rhythm of 7 beats, the speed and frequency must be more than tripled, and the difficulty of the whole control is increased tenfold and hundredfold.

Even more difficult is the sling.

Because the jazz drum is positioned lower and closer to the body, the left hand uses the strength of the forearm and wrist to complete the control, relying on the fingertips to make subtle adjustments, and the pressure on the muscles is relatively easy from the perspective of power and maintenance.

In addition to the forearm and wrist of the right hand, the upper arm must remain horizontally stable, like a bracket to support the control of the entire force, and the bearing force of the shoulder is more obvious.

In addition, the drum surface of the jazz drum is relatively fixed, and the sling is relatively shaky, in order to hit the beat of the same frequency, the power control of the sling must be more stable, more uniform and more delicate, a little too much force, the sling has a violent shaking, and the whole rhythm is completely broken, unsustainable.

If you listen carefully to Buddy Ricky's performance, you can notice that the sound of the sling part is clear and even, with a stable and powerful penetrating force, and even the full four and eight beats can be clearly captured.

That's power.

Andrew's drumstick shakes quickly, strictly speaking, the wrist is a control support point, the shaking must not be too strong, otherwise it will destroy the neat balance, not to mention, the two hundred and eighty drums are very dense, and the shaking arc is too large to keep up with the rhythm; more rely on the power of the fingertips, using the delicate cooperation of the five fingers, the power is continuously transmitted, driving the continuous hitting of the drumstick.

Explanations at the theoretical level may not sound like a very difficult thing, but only when you have actually practiced it will know that the difficulty is far beyond imagination.

"Bang bang".

The dense beat is speeding up at a rapid pace, and the speed must not lose the framework of the rhythm and frequency, and the structure of the seven-beat must always be maintained, and the accurate rhythm that Fletcher continues to emphasize cannot be lost, and the snatch and drag beats are both failed hits, which also puts more stringent demands on control.

Then, the muscles of his wrists and arms began to stiffen, and when the frequency rose to a certain height, it was like falling into the mud, and he was stuck, which also forced him to increase his strength, and the relaxed muscles gradually tightened, and the tighter he was, the more out of control-

When the muscles are stiff, the consciousness will lose subtle control of the muscles, and in the case of forced force, it can only control the whole or the whole large muscle, which makes the whole strike start to become clumsy and exaggerated.

To put it simply, just now it was still the delicate control of the fingers, but now it has become a wave of the entire forearm, and even the entire upper arm and shoulders have begun to shake, and the frequency of hitting has not only not increased, but has also begun to decline gradually, and even the rhythm framework of the seven beats has been completely disrupted, completely reduced to a four-like.

Mess.

Andrew's whole person couldn't help but clench his teeth tightly, his facial features were wrinkled together, the more nervous he was, the harder he worked, the harder he got out of control, the more he lost control, the more nervous he became, which formed a vicious circle, so that his whole body began to tremble violently, and even the most basic hitting and fighting posture had been deformed.

Eventually, Andrew slammed the slings on both sides with his drumsticks, and the venting one-off/blow had no force or skill at all, and it fell ferociously, and the slings made a screeching noise, and the hangers shook and shook like a beggar was breaking the iron.

Andrew raised his right hand, as if he wanted to vent again, clenched his teeth, tightened his muscles, and at the last moment he forced the emergency brake, and his right hand stopped in mid-air; between his closed eyes and frowning brows, there was a deep frustration and frustration, but he was still unable to vent it after all; his tense shoulders suddenly relaxed, and he drooped heavily, and even his head was lowered.

After the practice and assumption just now, I still failed to achieve the expected level logically, as if all the efforts were in vain. That kind of frustration and grievance was stuck in my chest like this, and I was out of breath.

He let out a long breath, and his hands fell weakly on the drum surface of the jazz drum, and the whole person exuded a sense of discouragement.

Unwilling, after all, still unwilling, but after a little breath, the previous shame sounded the alarm again; if he did not admit defeat, he still refused to admit defeat, how could he not do it? How could it be? He was a genius drummer who was determined to follow in the footsteps of Buddy Ricky, and he would never be easily defeated, he secretly gritted his teeth, and his irritable mood was once again forcibly restrained, and his eyes settled down again.

After calming down, Andrew noticed the blood stains on the drumsticks, turned over his palm and looked at it, and the inside of his middle finger, index finger and the inside of the tiger's mouth were all broken.

The most serious is the tiger's mouth, a pea-sized scar has completely worn out the epidermis, and even worse, because it has not been treated in time, the tender flesh under the epidermis has been further ravaged, becoming blurred with red blood and yellow pus, which is unbearable to look at.

At this time, after countless beats of slowness, he felt a hot stinging pain, which slowly spread like a jumping candy, his eyebrows couldn't help but raise slightly, and the corners of his mouth went down, as if he was a little surprised by the appearance of the wound, but more indifferent.

I opened a brand new box of band-aids, first took out one piece and bandaged my middle finger, then took out one piece and bandaged my index finger, and finally took out another piece and stuck it on top of the tiger's mouth. When he had finished all his work, he turned his palm, his eyes showed a look of contentment, and then he grabbed the drumstick again.

This time, he gave up hitting the jazz drum with his left hand and stared intently at the sling on his right.

Raise your right hand, hang it in the air, then relax your arm, and use the control of your fingers to hit a set of one hundred and forty blows, looking for control of the entire force and rhythmic output.

After an eight-beat, the wrist stopped swinging, and after making sure that he had found the exact rhythm, he stared at the sling, intently, and intently, and even swallowed a mouthful of saliva, and made a deep breath adjustment, to relax as completely as possible—

Start hitting.

"Bell bell".

First one hundred and forty strokes, then two hundred and eighty strokes, the whole tempo was over-increased and improved in just one eight beats, and in an instant, his hand speed reached two hundred and eighty strokes perfectly, and he hit the coveted rhythm with unmistakable accuracy, which was a flawless performance.

He can do it!

But after only eight beats, he immediately felt the stiffness of his muscles.

Conditioned reflex, he gritted his teeth stubbornly, refused to give up and refused to compromise, those light brown eyes burst out with a cruelty and determination that ended in the same end, his wet hair hung down, sweat slipped down drop by drop, faintly exuding a bloody breath, and even captured the brilliance of the pupils slowly brightening.

But the muscles are getting stiffer and stiffer, the control is getting weaker and weaker, and with it, the body begins to shake again, and before you know it, you are back on the old path.

It's just that this time he didn't give up, he broke out with a stubbornness that stumbled to the end, frowning tightly, the amplitude of the blow was getting bigger and bigger, and the force of the blow was getting more and more fierce, and then you could see the blood in the tiger's mouth, and it overflowed from both sides of the band-aid in a flash, dyeing the band-aid dark red little by little.

Real blood taste.

Remember the mobile version URL: m.

1405 Dead End (Page 1/1)

"Bookmark for easy reading"