Musical Time

One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four, over and over and over again. The incessant beeping of the metronome kept us together and right on time. As the players coordinated their movements, their collective shapes evolved into remarkable arrangements. With the delicate hum of the low brass as a cue, the drumline erupted into a spontaneous feature, pounding out notes in commanding accord. Intricate fills of the bass drums established the framework for the cracks of the snares and the beats of the tenor drums. So much sound, so much precision, so much was going on at once. I was locked in to everyone around me. Our rhythms connected to form an outstanding sound as the beats of the drumline guided the band.

It’s a bit nerve-racking to imagine how easy it is to jumble up this accuracy into a sloppy mess. One slip of a finger, one wrong note, or one little mistake could ruin the entire performance. Playing a note even a fraction of a second offbeat could throw off everyone around you. This inconsistency then spreads throughout the band, leaving the performance a step behind where it was at the beginning, and where it could’ve been altogether.

Marching band is, to say the very least, arduous on one’s skills, patience, and capabilities. A performer is required to coordinate literally dozens of actions simultaneously, including anything from synchronizing steps to a complexity like maintaining an entirely apathetic facial expression. After years of practice, I am usually very calm and direct; I never have to worry about my stick alternations, stepping patterns, visuals, dynamics, or even the notes that I play. These necessities all seemed to fit into my muscle memory like a lock and key. Processing what seemed like hundreds of concurrent actions was no longer necessary for me to get and stay in the groove, but this time, it was different.

About halfway through our performance, the thought of making an error started to emanate in my thoughts. More and more I would be thinking about every move I made, trying to correct my choppiness to prevent an error by whatever means possible. Tighter and tighter I became until I reached the point where I had to mentally process every stroke of the stick. As the tension built, my mind was racing through this vicious cycle, amplifying my stress until I was trying to take control of every stick alternation, every step, and every move I made. It was truly unbearable to see my level of performance drop so drastically in such a short amount of time. Unfortunately, tightening up my stance and control was the last thing I should’ve done.

Right as the band broke into a captivating silence, I smashed on my drums just a beat too early. Immediately, all of the suspense, fluctuations in dynamics, beautiful harmonies, and all else that over a hundred individuals devoted their own time and efforts into, plunged into disorder. These players’ undeniable creativity, magnitudes of practice, unwavering determination, and so much more that they put into the performance were, in that instant, crushed. From that moment on, our performance was not where it had been. Dynamics unevenly fluctuated, timing was off, form slacked, and unity was virtually nonexistent. My single mistake showed me the extent to which a single error in timing can cause an enormity of obstacles.

When I think back to that moment, I probably came in roughly a third of a second too early. A third of a second. It still shocks me to this day that such a minimal mistake can evoke monumental consequences. What I find even more frightening is the fact that the band is not only vulnerable to me, but also to over a hundred other individual members. Each person has more or less an equal chance of making an error that can demolish everything the band has worked towards.

That day showed me that timing has a huge impact on our lives, especially when our lives involve music. Our specific genre, marching/orchestra music, places an even more extreme importance on the concept of time. This threat of time not only applies to music, of course, for all aspects of both life and existence are subject to time and therefore its many implications. After that episode, I learned that one mistake could result in our performance really never being the same. The band members’ attempt to always conform to each other had the undesired side effect of adapting to someone who has made a mistake. From that single point on, I have ensured that I am, and always will, stay right on time.

“I pledge that I have neither received nor given any unauthorized assistance during the completion of this work”