My Boy Bheka, and Bassics





I attended a business seminar. During this seminar, amidst being thoroughly frustrated at a particular somebody for not showing up on time and lying that he was about to reach, daydreaming about my future 3 children, becoming best friends with a lady sitting next to me until she thought I was eyeing her man (whom she had just met, by the way) and being among the loudest gruntlers each time the speaker said "one last minute", I had an "aha!" moment. One of the things that stood out to me the most from this seminar was something along the lines of, "if you expect a different outcome, you have to be open to change."

In life, growth cannot take place without some type of change occurring. My musical journey has been one of twist, turns and changes. When I first started out as a classical pianist, nowhere in my life did I ever envision that I would one day play punk-rock bass, and over my dead body, hip-hop. I never even knew hip-hop music had legitimate basslines! But alas, it so happened. And I actually enjoyed it. And the change continues...

In the last half a year, I discovered the South African bassist, Bheka Mthethwa. I can literally listen to just one lick, forget a whole song, for an hour. On a bass forum, the discussion was once about what constitutes a great bassist. The point that stood out the most was that one must first and foremost have the passion and ability to express. Currently, there is no other bassist who can impress me as much as Bheka (yes, we are even on first-name basis....I wish. But in my heart we are). He is the perfect example. I admire my hommie, Bheka, because in addition to playing with a highly musically experienced group, he has allowed the bass to be more than just a supporting instrument, has a high level of musicianship, and most importantly, he plays from his heart. You can feel his soul through his basslines, and together with his other band members, they have proven that praising and worshiping God does not mean that one must sound like a cat struggling with death. 

In addition to that, I have started a project with one very talent fine artist and musician, with whom we are legitimately on first name basis. Clap for me. The only difficulty I have had with transitioning into this new project is the fact that I haven't rehearsed with a drummer in the last three weeks, and so I feel a bit incomplete. Bass without drums is just...meh. Not that I know what it feels like to be a widow, but I imagine it's something similar to this. However, I am extremely excited. This musician has an extraordinary way of thinking and is very unconventional. And she is an artist. Also, contrary to my past experience as a bassist in other bands, she has left my playing completely to my discretion. Heck, I can even play with my teeth now if I want! Having the freedom to self-express has even lifted the 5 month composition block I had. 

As I continue learning to love myself more and gain more self-confidence, I look forward to this new expression and getting into a different mental realm. Our first show together in September is going to be the most noteworthy stage I have ever performed on, thus far, as a bassist. We have less than three weeks to write and rehearse what will be performed. Challenge accepted. 

Of Drumbeats and Heartbeats

I have this very dear friend, who is also my fellow female bassist. Not only is she quite a talented musician, but she can say a simple sentence that will have such a profound effect on you that you start to ponder over your life. One particular Sunday, as we were having our usual post-church girl time, she said, "become an amazing drummer". *screeeeeeeeeeeeeeech!*

Before these four words, that would change the meaning of my life, were uttered, I mentioned in passing how I find a drummer that she used to play with somehow attractive. I thought this was just one of those "that guy is fine, swoon, and move on with our lives" moments. But alas, it was not such. This particular drummer that we were not moving on from, I had only heard him play twice. That, and I'm sure he wouldn't remember my face if we met on the street. Yet, this is how I apparently looked talking about him...


As it turns out, Mr Twice-Heard isn't special. I have an extra long list of people I find attractive, who are, umm, drummers. Not that any of them are particularly drop dead gorgeous. Well, not at least until I heard them play. The only prerequisite to my drummer-heart was simply to be a good drummer. Even Mr Bean would turn into David Beckham after giving me a noteworthy groove. Why?

My analysis:

I like to focus more on rhythm as I play, because I feel that a good rhythm can turn a basic bassline into something quite decent, like how Haron Waceke plays. He is never all over the fretboard, but when he is, it is at strategic points only, yet his rhythm is quite strong. For this reason, the person I pay the most attention to in the band is the drummer. I even practice basic rhythms on the drums so as to help me be a better bassist. This interest in rhythm is apparently not only limited to my band, but I find myself automatically analyzing the drummer when listening to any other band. So, while other girls notice the guy with the guitar, I notice the guy with sticks. Plus they say "your band is only as good as your drummer". There's something about a man in control.

Friend's analysis:

Drummers have something I don't. Quite true when we are attracted to members of the opposite sex, we are attracted to those who we perceive to have something that we don't have but admire. Not that I am an amazing guitarist, but while other girls swoon over guitarists, since I am a guitarist myself, I am unmoved because what they have is easily accessible. As a musician, one of my biggest struggle has been with rhythm, and even still have a problem with rhythms that are not simple timed. Thus and such, drummers it is.

Since being in a position where a man has emotional power over a woman is a dangerous position to be, my friend's solution was simple: become an amazing drummer. Then no one will move my heart to beat! (see what I did there?)