I started taking drumming lessons for the first time in March of 2025. Before that, I had never learned any instrument (school flute doesn’t count). While this backstory is for another time, I want to make reflections on this newly found practice, how I lived it, and how it affected me.

My first lesson was planned for the day after I landed in Taipei. I remember scheduling it way ahead so that there was no way to bail out. I didn’t know my teacher more than a few Instagram messages. I had no idea what he could possibly teach me in a few months’ time while I was in the country. And so, I went in somewhat blind, arriving in his studio excited and a bit nervous, unsure of what was to come.

We started discussing my musical background. I explained that while I produce electronic music, I have no formal training, nor am I anywhere close to considering myself a musician. We needed to start from the very beginning.

I was excited to get started, but it took half an hour for me to actually sit at a drum kit. It turns out that a lot can be taught about drumming without drums.

The first thing I had to learn was how to hold the drumsticks. It sounded a bit silly initially, only because I never thought of it as something that had to be learned. It’s a stick, after all. I thought that was a given.
My teacher patiently explained that there are various positions available to me: American grip, French grip, German grip, and more. How many colonial empires needed to plant the flag on the way we held a stick ?

I asked him, which one should I use? Wanting to know all the secrets from someone that has hit the drums for a while. He showed me a traditional way I should start with but quickly added that I won’t really find out which one works for me until I have been playing for a while.

I listened. Immediately tried to hold the sticks the traditional way and then was quick to judge. “This doesn’t feel like it,” I thought. I tried navigating through the other grips, but nothing felt really right. I was growing suspicious that none of those were the right ones for me. How would I be able to drum if none of them worked? How was he able to drum without knowing initially ?

I caught myself thinking, skipping the steps and flying away from the drumming studio, building worries on a practice that hadn’t even started yet. I was told there was no way to know without time, yet I wanted to know immediately.

Through this blur he finally called me up to the drums. I adjusted my seat and sat for the first time where I will be spending devoted weekly time. It was time to hit the snare (that center drum in between your legs, the one that sounds quite brighter than the other).

I distributed the sticks to both my hands, rumbling them around and trying to make them fit naturally. I honestly couldn’t tell which grip I was using. There was no way to know if that was the right choice. I decided to try that default position I was recommended; I guess it was one less thing to think about. There was a snare about to be hit—no time for debates anymore.

The practice started with hitting the snare on every quarter note at seventy-five beats per minute.

“Five, six, seven, eight,” my teacher said.

My right arm fell down and hit the snare. Its loudness jittered through the room. It kind of woke me up. The stick bounced back as quickly as it came down; soon enough it was time to come down again.

I hit and hit again and realized that the journey is finally starting. I had no idea where it was going, but months (years) of desires led to this point. I was hitting the drum and was on my way. And I couldn’t care less about the positions my sticks were in.