Or: How to Achieve Public Isolation in Less Than Five Seconds. It happens to the best of us. It could occur at any time, anywhere: a loud and dimly-lit bar, a gathering at a friend’s house, the interior of a car, a neighborhood grocery store. That one familiar song begins playing, and you simply can’t resist. Oftentimes it begins with a subtle toe-tap, or perhaps the palm of the hand slapping against the thigh. Then before you know it, you’re suffering from a full-on bout of Public Air Drumming, yet appearing to unsuspecting passersby to be violently swatting an invisible bee’s nest from your ears. The most important step in fully understanding and embracing the inherent nature of this phenomena is honest admission. Say it aloud: I enjoy air drumming in public. Don’t be ashamed. It holds just as much artistic validity as painting or dancing, and when performed accurately, reveals a studied level of skill that is much more than just flailing one’s arms around like an idiot.

The biggest misconception about air drumming is that anyone can do it, regardless of musicality or experience. Nothing could be further from the truth. In order to air-drum correctly, one must have an intimate knowledge of the configuration of the modern drum kit and its considerations: Is the drummer right- or left-handed? Are there two bass drums, or is there a double-kick pedal? How many toms are available? One must also be prepared for any curveballs that may be thrown: Where would the roto-toms be located? Is there a tambourine attached to the hi-hat? Should that cymbal choke be performed with one hand or two? One’s posture is especially crucial, as well as the height and comfort of the chair – that’s right, chair. No one, if they want to be taken seriously, should air-drum standing up. Unless you’re Moe Tucker, it’s incorrect, unrealistic, and just bad form. Focus less on goofy facial expressions and more on accuracy and timing; sure, your grinning mug may garner a few laughs, but you’ll look mighty stupid if you botch that critical last fill before the fade. Finally, always remember that air drumming is 50% performing and 50% listening, so study the masters carefully: Keith Moon, John Bonham, Neil Peart. These pioneers inspired and perpetuated the modern art of air drumming, so familiarize yourself with their work well and commit it to memory.

As for myself, I’m an air-drumming addict. I’ll take any opportunity, no matter how inappropriate, to display my chops at replicating a thunderous tom fill or unusual hi-hat/snare syncopation. This affliction has been especially difficult for my wife, who will usually ignore me for the first few bars, then loudly scold me as if I had just had an accident on the living room rug (“No! Bad! No!”). Air drumming has always been my weakness, much more serious than mimicking an air-guitar solo or thumbing through an air-bass pattern. Can I sit down at a real drum kit and play competently? Hell no. But I have years of makebelieve drumming under my belt, and if I may be so bold, can hold myself confidently with the best of them. The following five records helped me get to where I am today, including a level of difficulty (10 being the hardest) for me to master them.

5. Hum Downward Is Heavenward RCA 1997 Drummer: Bryan St. Pere Difficulty: 7

It’s not a stretch by any means to find me blaring this record from my car at 130 decibels on any given hot summer day, transforming the interior of my dash into a makeshift five-piece kit. What’s so addicting about air-drumming along to Hum’s Downward Is Heavenward (1997) is drummer Bryan St. Pere’s creative subversion of stock patterns and fills in modern rock. At the slightest suspicion of anthing familiar, he will suddenly alternate a bass drum hit or snap a few sixteenth notes on the bell of the ride and rocket off into unexplored percussive territory. There is an undeniable, immediate satisfaction in replicating St. Pere’s work here, though his tempos can be a bit shaky and his cymbal work is frustratingly complex and inconsistent. And because of the occasionally muddy mix, it can be a bit of a challenge to decipher his exact movements, but ultimately more rewarding when performed properly. “Comin’ Home” is the track to show off to friends, who will be initially thrown off guard from the knotty 6/8 to 7/8 signature change at the verse, then subsequently floored at the alternating fills during the noisy post-chorus breakdown.

“Comin’ Home” – Hum 2:45 (Downward Is Heavenward, RCA 1997)

4. Helmet Meantime Interscope 1992 Drummer: John Stanier Difficulty: 6

Meantime (1992), and to a certain extent Helmet’s Betty (1994) were the records that planted the air-drumming seed back when I was a pain-in-the-ass teenager who needed to expend some of that repressed hormonal energy. My friend Tanner had built an impressive shrine to John Stanier in a corner of his rec room and had even duplicated Stanier’s exact kit (complete with precise drum sizes and cymbal heights) after reading an interview with him in Modern Drummer magazine or some such, which he had naturally framed. It was through Stanier’s intricate hip hop-like patterns on Meantime that I learned independent hi-hat and kick drum coordination, as well as the undefinable element of groove, a key faculty in every air drummer’s arsenal. “Ironhead” was the last track on Meantime that I mastered note-for-note, which eventually led to a ecstatic sense of accomplishment that I was finally able to air-drum an entire album. Listening to it years later, I’m still drawn into Stanier’s metronomic precision, the inhuman speed of his right foot, and that tightened, piccolo-like signature snare.

“Ironhead” – Helmet 3:22 (Meantime, Interscope 1992)

3. Carcass Heartwork Earache 1994 Drummer: Ken Owen Difficulty: 10

There are plenty of reasons why Carcass‘ Heartwork (1994) holds my vote as the Greatest Metal Album of All Time, but the one that holds the most weight is Ken Owen’s thoughtfully executed kit work. I don’t wish to profess that metal drumming is easy – it arguably requires a stricter sense of timing and more raw energy than any other style of drumming – but I’ve always found it frustrating that too many drummers are unable to establish any kind of personality under all of that chaos and distortion. Owen is one of the exceptions, establishing his dominating presence at the first note of Heartwork and leading the proceedings diligently throughout the remainder of the record. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that producer Colin Richardson places him in the mix as if he were seated at the Drum Throne of the Gods. Owen navigates his way through everything from brutal hyper-blastbeats to booming, mid-tempo grooves such as the ones found on “Embodiment.” In the first minute alone, he seems to be taunting any potential air drummers with a seemingly endless series of unexpected musical tricks: cymbal chokes, odd hi-hat accents, dynamically shifting snare rolls. The level of difficulty here is staggering, simply due to how utterly exhausted one feels after air drumming their way through any of these selections.

“Embodiment” – Carcass 5:36 (Heartwork, Earache 1994)

2. Dinosaur Jr Green Mind Sire/WEA 1991 Drummer(s): J Mascis, Murph Difficulty: 4

Drumming aside, there are few records that I’m more familiar with than Green Mind (1991), which helps to explain its silver medal position on the list. In terms of professionalism, Dinosaur Jr nucleus J Mascis (who performs most of the kit work here) is the antithesis of what a drummer should be: a reliable timekeeper, restrained from excessive fills, in complete deference of the song. Yet Mascis’ reckless enthusiasm is what makes Green Mind so much fun to air-drum along to, with all inhibitions cast aside for a raw, unschooled aesthetic rarely found in rock today. His snare fills are a bit predictable here, which explains the relatively low difficulty rating, but each pattern or fill, regardless of how loose or wildly executed, seems to make perfect sense in the context of the song that complaints are rendered moot. Duff (pictured above) and I share the same dedication to this album: during a weekend get-together at his apartment once, the two of us were singlehandedly responsible for the awkward exit of each guest (including roommates) after a drunken challenge to see who could air-drum to Green Mind the longest without screwing up. I think we called it a tie somewhere around “Muck,” when we realized that we had both been performing for an empty audience for the past twenty minutes.

“Puke + Cry” – Dinosaur Jr 4:20 (Green Mind, Sire/WEA 1991)

1. Shudder to Think Pony Express Record Epic 1994 Drummer: Adam Wade Difficulty: 9

When D.C. neighbors Jawbox and Shudder to Think replaced their drummers around the same time in ‘94, I wasn’t sure what to expect out of the latter’s acquisition of the former’s Adam Wade. I was familiar with Wade’s work on Jawbox’s Novelty (1992), but he never struck me as a particularly unique drummer, and certainly not an appropriate backbone for Shudder’s strangely effeminate brand of art-rock. He proved me wrong and then some on Pony Express Record (1994), an album that still stands as my absolute favorite drumming on any record, rock, jazz, or otherwise. Besides a lifelong obsession with the album in general that continues to this day, I’ve picked apart and dissected every one of Wade’s notes so many times that I could write a thesis on just his ride patterns alone. Even more essential to my air drumming purposes is the fact that his kit is recorded immaculately here, each hit resonating clearly through the mix, despite the guitarists’ attempts to smother him with shards of dense noise. This is the album I put on when I want to impress people, to school them in the ways of mechanically precise air drumming while I mimic Wade’s intrinsic grasp of advanced time signatures and avant-garde freedom. I am simply unable to control myself when this record begins playing; I could be in the middle of delivering a speech to the United Nations and would immediately have to find an appropriate chair to publicly demonstrate, with my arms and legs, the brilliance of the drumming on Pony Express Record.

“Earthquakes Come Home” – Shudder to Think 3:44 (Pony Express Record, Epic 1994)

Honorable Mentions:

Built to Spill: Keep It Like a Secret (Warner Bros. 1999)
Burning Airlines: Mission: Control! (DeSoto 1999)
The Flaming Lips: Transmissions from the Satellite Heart (Warner Bros. 1993)
Shiner: The Egg (DeSoto 2001)
Sunny Day Real Estate: Diary (Sub Pop 1994)