WTR-LAB: The Greatest Showman - Chapter 1376

"I need you to completely clear your mind, forget everything you think you know about music for a moment, and just feel the rhythm of the drumbeat. The drum kit isn't just about melody, it's like a heartbeat—it's about getting into it. Feel those beats with your heart, with your pulse. This is rhythm, and you can only control it if you truly feel it."

Johansen's words were clear, but then he added with a note of seriousness, "These points are correct, but the issue is that basic drum skills are crucial—controlling the drumsticks with your wrists, finding your spatial awareness on the kit, adjusting the force of your strikes, balancing the tension in your strokes. These fundamentals are the foundation for all the technical movements and performance quality."

"You see, before this, you didn't know much about drum kits. You were relying on your rhythm instincts to just tap along, but that's like building a castle in the air. It looks nice, but there are gaping holes in it."

He paused, then continued more forcefully. "You need to abandon any romanticized notions. Forget about showing off or flaunting your rhythm and skills—start from the basics, and be grounded in your approach. There are no shortcuts! You can't skip the foundational steps and jump straight to advanced techniques. There's no easy path here!"

Johansen's voice grew more insistent as he spoke, but Renly remained silent, listening closely. "This isn't like playing the piano, where you can memorize a piece and rehearse it until you're comfortable. In drumming, all your basic skills will be exposed, and there's no hiding. The more you practice, the clearer your weaknesses will become."

Johansen's tone softened slightly. "Do you understand? Drumming isn't about impressing others or drawing attention. On stage, the drummer is always in the back, out of the spotlight. The cheers and the glory go to the frontman. We, the drummers, need to stay calm and humble because we're the heartbeat of the performance, driving its energy."

"If all you want is attention, then you've chosen the wrong instrument."

Renly listened as Johansen poured out his thoughts with increasing sharpness. His voice had grown almost aggressive, and the deeper Johansen spoke, the more his personal frustrations and judgments spilled out. Despite the harshness, Renly remained quiet, not responding in anger but absorbing the words.

Renly didn't feel resentment, only a sense of understanding. He could sense that Johansen's comments were colored by preconceived notions and perhaps media-influenced judgments. But instead of lashing out, Renly accepted that this was Johansen's current perception—one built on assumptions, not facts.

There was a clear, unspoken divide in the way they viewed things, but Renly refused to be drawn into a confrontation. He knew that wisdom comes from accepting others as they are, opening up to differences, and avoiding the trap of narrow thinking. It was important to stay open to new perspectives and remain grounded in one's own truths.

After Johansen's tirade, there was a tense silence. Renly, ever composed, didn't react with frustration. Instead, he calmly offered an escape, "Well, let's start with the basics. Where do we begin practicing drum kit fundamentals?"

Johansen took a breath, grateful for the change of subject. "Right, the basics. Let's start with the 'dumb drum,' a rubber practice pad. We'll begin with the simplest exercise—'sixty.'"

The "dumb drum" was, in Johansen's words, a simple tool—a piece of rubber designed to practice basic drumming skills. It couldn't simulate the complexity of a full drum kit, but it was a key tool in training control, rhythm, and coordination. The dull thudding sound it made didn't compare to the dynamic roar of a real drum, yet it was the foundation every drummer needed to master.

Johansen continued, "Of course, if you're just looking to impress an amateur audience for a quick show, we could skip this step and go straight to real drums. But if you want to build real skills, this is where we start." His tone carried a touch of sarcasm.

Renly nodded. "Alright. Let's start with the 'dumb drum.'"

With that, Renly showed his usual, no-nonsense approach—steady and purposeful. His attitude had remained the same from the very beginning: focused, polite, and direct, without any need for extraneous gestures or pleasantries. All of his attention was on learning, and it was clear from the start that this was what he valued most.

Johansen was briefly taken aback by Renly's lack of resistance. He had expected more—perhaps some pushback or a show of pride—but Renly's straightforward approach made him reconsider his own assumptions.

Johansen sighed, then moved to set up the practice pad. "Alright, here's the dumb drum. Let's work on sixty beats per minute."

Renly, showing his musical prowess even in the early stages, quickly adjusted. He was familiar with the concept of rhythm, even if it was his first time behind a drum kit. His background in piano and guitar had given him a keen sense of timing, which he was now applying to this new instrument.

The "sixty" wasn't complicated—it was a basic exercise where the drummer strikes the pad sixty times in one minute, which is essentially one strike per second. The goal was to develop a solid sense of rhythm, ensuring each beat was even and steady.

Renly worked through the exercise quickly, his precision evident. Within fifteen minutes, he was able to maintain a steady 240 beats per minute, a considerable jump from the initial exercise. His natural musicality and rhythm were already apparent.

Johansen watched silently. Despite the impressive results, Renly remained humble and focused, showing no signs of arrogance. It was a stark contrast to Johansen's earlier assumptions.

A slight discomfort settled over Johansen as he cleared his throat. "Let's go back to sixty beats for now."

Renly acknowledged the request without hesitation, his steady focus unwavering. The dynamic between the two had shifted—Renly's professionalism and calmness had put Johansen in a position where he couldn't help but reassess his earlier behavior.

This was no longer about the conflict—it was about mastering the craft, step by step.

4o mini