Static: Meet Drummer, Photographer, Standup Comic & Political Commentator, Ashley Henderson

Ashley “Bam-bam” Henderson - My Drumming Biography

I was asked for a personal biography about my drumming history. I’ll try to be brief. (ed. Ha!)

I'm told it all started with pulling every pot and pan in the cabinets out in the floor and banging on them. I personally think it started before I was born, with the rhythmic thump, thumping of my mother's heart. At any rate, it didn't take long for my parents to realize that it would be less noisy, and less messy, to just get me some real drums, rather than continue to put up with my culinary accouterment percussive shenanigans.

The first set was a simple two bongo unit, which I played until my hands and fingers were severely bruised. I subsequently broke the bongos after trying to coax more volume from them by using various sticks, (not drum sticks) and implements of destruction.

I got a full set shortly thereafter, and proceeded to trash them even quicker than the bongos. I got a real set the next Christmas, (the ones with real cymbals, real drum heads, and the gold sparkled shells) and kept them until I was given the set that I still play, the white Ludwig's, with Zildjian cymbals. That was the Christmas of 1976. It was one of the happiest Christmas's of my life.

I took some lessons at a very early age, (6-7 I think), and learned the basic rudiments, and the basics of reading rhythms. I grew exceedingly bored with playing only one drum however, and soon started lessons on the trap set from the same instructor, out of his home. We would basically play along to records, until I got it exactly right and then move to another record. I remember playing "No Sugar tonight" (Guess Who), for several months, and learning the entire drum solo to Innagaddadavida, by Iron Butterfly. That took about 6 months as I recall. I had a much better memory back then. That was probably the biggest accomplishment of my young drumming life.

I also took a few lessons from an actively gigging drummer, who was a friend of my uncle. He taught me a lot about just going with the flow, and being creative, and devising my own rhythm patterns, and playing triplets between drums, instead of all on one drum, and then another, as I had previously done. I worked out a 10 minute solo, featuring gradually increasing tempo and volume, of triplets, played in clockwise, and then counterclockwise fashion, between 4 different drums, with only one stroke per drum. (Pretty complicated stuff for a 12 year old.)

I was also training in Bando at the time, (A Burmese martial art, similar to Karate), with Randy Webb, (the fitness Guru from Chattanooga), and he planned a big picnic at a pavilion at Chester Frost Park, with all his classes. He wanted his students to share their various hobbies with the group, and so I took my drums and played my very first public gig, as a solo, to a group of 60-100 people. I was hooked for life. Plus, I figured that with my combination of martial arts and hard core drumming, I might indeed make a kick-butt rock and roll drummer.

I didn't start playing with a group, until my freshman year of high school. Since I hadn't taken band in Jr. High, I had to start in beginner band, (perhaps they should have had some sort of try out or something?), which was extremely humiliating for me, in that the drummers played on the seats of wooden chairs. I quickly was passed up to the varsity band, and also became the first chair drummer for the jazz band. I maintained that slot for the duration of high school, and it was probably my favorite thing. We played a song call Palomino Bug, which had an open-ended drum solo in it, and though I never took so much advantage as for the horn players to be able to take a smoke break, I did stretch it out somewhat at times.

I had a "Rocky", type experience at my sophomore year band camp. There was a percussion instructor who worked with us named Chris Crockwell, who made a major impact on me. I say "Rocky" experience because of the profound impact the movie, and its message had on me. For me it was all about how superhuman effort can create a new reality, and how if you want to dramatically change your life, you have to make dramatic changes and sacrifices, and put in the amount and intensity of work that 99% of the population is either unwilling or unable to reach down within themselves and find.

This guy was and remains the most impressive drummer I've ever seen or heard, and I never even got to see him play a trap set. He was able to play with the power, speed and technical expertise I never even imagined could be reached. One of the most impressive things that I recall was that he was able to play louder, by moving only his wrists, than most people would be able to achieve by swinging a baseball bat. He told us that he was able to achieve these things by devoting his life to practice. He claimed that he never attended a party on a Saturday night, throughout his entire high school years. Instead, he said he devoted several hours per day to practice. Some, not even necessarily playing, just doing drumming exercises, to develop the muscles of the wrists are forearms, and speed and control.

I began a vigorous practice regimen, of two to three hours per day, and saw immediate results. Later that year, I won first chair in the varsity band, over the (rather cocky) seniors. I continued to play in concert, marching and jazz bands through graduation. I lost my first chair status in marching band during my senior year, due to changing priorities, which substituted 3 hours of weight lifting per day for the previous three hours of drumming.

(to be continued)