#tenor drums

[mackachu1212]

This originated when I heard the name rue be announced during a marching band competition and I added this lore to the one au I have where everything is mostly normal

Let me know if you wanna see Aziel in band too

If yall don’t I probably will draw it anyways because I have free will and these are my ocs

[autistic-lesbianism]

What is happening rn:

[Get the time off from playing until 4th period in band] Everyone:*Just does they're own thing* Tenor, Snare, Cymbals, and Bass:*Just doing their own thing playing as loud as they can and making their own beats*

[beaudesoleil]

had a strange dream abt a modern anthro version of warrior cats where the three + holly are a jazz quartet running around the streets of britain... interesting

[trinitea-fics]

Fuck it, what instruments I think the Wolf 359 characters play with little to no justification:

Eiffel: Drums (loud. Also more important than people care to admit)

Minkowski: Flute (but was never first chair)

Hera: Voice (which DOES count as an instrument. I just like to imagine my girl singing)

Hilbert: Piano (classically trained)

Lovelace: Clarinet (proficient at the classical repertoire, but prefers jazz. I like to think she learned from a relative)

Kepler: Tenor saxophone (had to walk away from his ~funk band~)

Jacobi: Cello (in his offical playlist it ends with the 2Cellos cover of Thunderstruck. Which is. TOO PERFECT. I think he was really good at cello through his childhood, but would complain nonstop about it. But maybe secretly like it???)

Maxwell: Synthesizer (cool machines. Probably also owns a theremin)

[artnlife2]

MUSIC: Thelonious Monk, Sonny Rollins, Roy Haynes, and Ahmed Abdul-Malik at the Five Spot Cafe, September 1958. ph. Marvin Oppenberg

[unproduciblesmackdown]

gilbert l. bailey ii and will roland as phil filmore and orville wingate performing "lucky day" from summer stock

[medullam]

Feat. Tenor Fly

We Rock Hard [1998]

[alesbianloser]

i play a lot of different instruments and am in 3 bands!

Okay, here’s an interesting question. What hobbies do you guys have that wouldn’t be apparent from your online presence? Like something you spend a lot of time doing or thinking about beyond whatever you post on your blog.

[severesharkmaker]

Are any other performers massive introverts?

I’m a music kid, a play the tenor drums and I sing in a couple bands so I spend quite a lot of time in front of like my whole school doing my best to entertain them (I will add that my school is only like 300 kids but that’s not important). So most people have seen my face, they probably even know my name but I’ve never gone out of my way to talk to people who aren’t in my year. Like before I started performing there were some kids in years above me who thought I was a new kid when they saw me in the background of a photo my (extremely popular and outgoing) best friend would send. It’s just strange, like if I’m ever asked in those personality quizzes “do you like the spotlight?” I say “absolutely not” but that’s all I do. Singing is like the most in the spotlight hobby you can have.

I don’t know how to explain the difference between how I don’t want to talk to anyone but I love to perform in front of everyone, so if anyone can relate please respond I’m going insane.

[blurred-honey]

Another basketball game, another day wishing I were a mascot

They just get to have so much fun

[nina-rosa]

(sketches and process under the cut!)

I used some of the instruments I have in my room (that you can see in the animation!!), such as recorders (sopranino, soprano, alto, tenor), a flute, an acoustic guitar, a ukulele and a synthesizer (as for drums and other sounds I used Logic Pro's sound library)!

This music is especially comforting to me, it's like a recall of the time I started watching mp100 with my late cat Kaki, and the deep fondness I have for this show :)

(the upset cat who's there in the animation is my other cat called Crème btw, she's the real star of the show fr ✨)

Working on this was so much fun !!!!!! I'm very excited to finally share it

(it’s also on youtube!)

Programs used: Callipeg for the animation and Logic Pro for the music

[sgurumiyaji]

本日のおはジャズ「Quintessence」Bill Evans '76

ずっとYouTubeで聴いてて欲しかったアルバム。エバンス、ランド、バレル、レイブラウン、フィリーという特別に集められた豪華メンバーによる、��ッションとは言い難い完成度の高いセッション。

ケニー・ホイラー、ルグランのオリジナルからスタート。もう、これコンテンポラリー・ジャズです。バップ時代から活躍するレジェンド達の「俺達はなんだって出来るんだぞ」オーラが凄い。特にレイブラウンのラファロ的アプローチに最初耳を疑うのですが、音の粒立ちやタッチの強さから、あぁレイで間違い無いと思うのです。

最近、8分音符のタイム感に注目してるのですが、エバンスもバレルもストレート8th寄り。特にエバンスは極端なまでにストレートで、昨日聴いてたキースもこの影響かぁ…とニヤリ。唯一、ハロルド・ランドだけスウィングしてて、この中だとちょっと古臭く感じます。でも、彼もスタイルチェンジにより、最早ただのバップおじさんではありません。

録音も良く、リバーブも少なくドライなので、エバンスのリアルなタッチをピアノに耳を寄せて聴いてる様な感覚で楽しめます。しかし、エバンスのアルバムはどれも高い！これも、見本盤で漸く安く手に入れられました。

最後のバレルのスウィンギーな循環曲で「本領発揮！」と言わんばかりの演奏で幕を閉じます。

[linksboobs]

belp

i love hyperfixations bc its taking everything not to mention ocarina of time or the fact i play the ocarina in this DRUMLINE essay. 

[kamfalk]

From Germany: Steps Ahead performs Weather Report's Young and Fine, live in Stuttgart, 1990. With Mike Mainieri (vibes), Bendik Hofseth (tenor sax), Rachel Z. Nicolazzo (keys), James Tunnel (guitar), Jeff Andrews (bass) and Steve Smith (drums). Rachel Z. and Jeff A. are both en fuego!

[hammondcast]

Event Link 2023 NAMM Show Schedule

Event Link 2023 NAMM Show Schedule 

 https://www.namm.org/thenammshow/2023/session/jon-hammond-funk-unit 

Jon Hammond Funk Unit 

 9:45 am - 10:40 am

ACC, Plaza, ADJ Arena Plaza Stage

In-Person Only

Journalist Ricky Richardson Los Angeles News Observer: “Organist Jon Hammond served up a set of original compositions, funky, swinging jazz and blues to the delight of the crowd gathered at the ADJ Arena Plaza Stage."

Funky Swinging Jazz and Blues instrumentals original compositions by organist Jon Hammond featuring international soloists. As seen on cable TV for 38 years Jon Hammond Show, long-running music, travel and soft news program. Jon Hammond and band members have been performing at NAMM Shows and Frankfurt musikmesse for 33 years, as well as Music China, Japan Musical Instruments Fair and toured Germany with 21 piece Landesjugendjazzorchester German Youth Jazz Orchestra. ASCAP Composer Publisher and Member American Federation of Musicians Local 6 and Local 802, 2014 NAMM Believe in Music award recipient. 

NAMM Show Sessions April 13th - on behalf of Jon Hammond Funk Unit folks, saddened to hear of Wayne Shorter's passing - we are looking forward to kicking things off again when the doors open at Anaheim Convention Center play some funk for ya'!

Happy to have back on the band my longtime friend tenor saxophonist Marc Baum, first time welcoming Nic Kubes drums

with longtime bandmates Joe Berger guitar, Leslie J. Carter Chuggy Carter congas & percussion, can't wait!

Arena Plaza Stage, thanks ADJ Lighting and Greg Herreman Productions - mixer Tony Mirador - Mark Magill 'Stage Dad' & Ken Freeman stage Odie de la Fuente Akroz stage team - we'll see you there bright and early! - Jon Hammond

Jon Hammond Funk Unit

9:45 am - 10:40 am

ACC, Plaza, ADJ Arena Plaza Stage

 NAMM Show, Event, Concert, Funk, Arena Plaza, ADJ Lighting, Hammond Organ, tenor saxophone, drums, electric guitar, international music community, Anaheim

NAMM Show, Event, Concert, Funk, Arena Plaza, ADJ Lighting, Hammond Organ, tenor saxophone, drums, electric guitar, international music community, Anaheim

[dulcento]

cw ۫ ꣑ৎ actor satoru gojo x fem. reader, angst, foul language, hurt no comfort, feminine pet names, mentions of cöck, he just sucks ◟ 2.3k wc

lola’s lip service : beta read by the lovely @kisstoru, thx bunny xxx

as the music in the club shifts to a sensuous beat, it pales in comparison to the steady drum of anger coursing through your veins at the scene filling your vision.

if the grip on your martini glass was any tighter, jagged shards would scrape your hand, vodka searing each gash as if they were set on fire.

and yet… that’d be nothing compared to the sting of watching your boyfriend, a famed actor satoru gojo, flirting with another woman twenty feet away from you.

your relationship with the white-haired man started rocky, for obvious reasons. coming from two different worlds would cause a strain on any relationship. satoru, being used to the limelight and attention, saw nothing wrong with late nights out in los angeles, liquor, and various women throwing themselves at him under the guise of being his ‘fans’. after all, it came with the lifestyle of being ‘the sexiest man in hollywood’.

you, on the other hand, saw everything wrong with it.

you’ve lost count of how many times you and satoru would argue over the violation of your boundaries. yes, your boundaries because if you’ve learned one thing while being in a relationship with satoru… boundaries? he doesn’t know the meaning of the word. like now, as you gawk at the sight of satoru’s slender fingers gingerly tucking that girl’s hair behind her pierced ear, fingertips grazing over the industrial bar through her cartilage.

bile rises from your gut, threatening to make your dinner reappear in chunks at the lustful gleam in his eyes as his cerulean attention flints to that girl’s cleavage. your body heat reaches scorching temperatures, a thin layer of sweat materializing on your flesh from the maelstrom of emotions clouding your psyche. fury, sadness, with a heaping dose of disappointment crawls up your throat, constricting your airway, making it hard to breathe, pressure building behind your sinuses.

damn it, not now, not—

your thoughts short-circuit when you catch a glimpse of that girl pressing her tits against satoru’s sculpted chest, his sizable hand resting on her waist, pulling her closer. it was as if your tears disintegrated from your very eyes, filling your scleras with flames, pupils dilating in ire. slamming your glass on the round table, you shoot up to your feet, saint laurent heels heavily clicking against the vinyl flooring as if they’re made of lead, bringing you closer to the object of your vexation.

“yeah? you wanna taste, pretty gi— hey!” satoru yelps when your hand curls around the back of his leather jacket, yanking him away from the disgusting atmosphere he created with that girl. “‘toru, let’s talk outside,” your tone signifying no question was asked, and judging by his threaded brow raising at said tone, he knows it was a demand.

“hm? what about?” satoru teases, playfulness dancing in his cyanic irises. your gaze hardens into an ominous glare, “now, satoru,” ice wrapping around each syllable of his given name. his lids widened slightly, a shiver of fear running up his spine before retracting to their relaxed state. he can feel the eggshells cracking under his feet. satoru decides it’s better to tread lightly as to not spur you on… for now.

he nods, leaving cash on the bar top for his tab before rising to his feet from the uncomfortable stool. as he moves to walk behind you, a hand lands on his bicep, the muscle dwarfing the sickly appendage almost comically. “leaving me already, handsome?” a voice, akin to nails on the chalkboard rings in your ears, making your nose scrunch up in distaste.

satoru’s attention catches hers, a stupid smirk curling up on his face. “sorry baby, gotta talk to her real quick,” he replies, coyness infesting his tenor, your neck cracking with how hard you did a double take. hearing ‘baby’ roll of satoru’s tongue, all honeyed and sweet, towards some trollop, makes smoke come out your ears.

“i’ll be here,” she giggles, the sound making your ass itch. satoru winks… winks! at her, turning around to face you. he flinches back once he sees how close you are to him. “whew, you scared me, baby,” his blood pressure leveling once more. he should be scared, you think to yourself, eyes scanning his frame before walking towards the exit, satoru trailing behind you.

the velvet-padded door opens, causing the autumn breeze to kiss your skin, tapering off the jitters in your bones a tad. silent tension blankets you and satoru as the constant thump of footfalls fill the dead air. satoru, can’t help but admire you from behind. you can almost feel his eyes fucking you from top to bottom as you both walk together towards the parking lot.

is he that fucking clueless about your mood?

leaning your ass against the hood of your bentley, crossing your arms over your ample chest, “explain,” stern vocal cords slicing through the air like a katana through flesh. satoru’s features screw up in mockery, “whaddya mean, princess?” faux ignorance laced through each vowel, creases forming in between your brows. your acrylics dig into the plump flesh of your tricep, leaving crescent marks on your once unblemished skin.

it’s times like this when you wonder how you fell in love with satoru.

letting out a huff, pinching the bridge of your nose, you utter, “this is not the time to act like something’s funny, satoru.” a child-like frown downturn on his face, grumbling, “you’re no fun, baby,” as his spine straightens. you feel a sliver of your irritation subside at him taking this conversation seriously. you try not to get your hopes up too much. one minute he’s communicating and listening, the next minute he’s cracking jokes, dismissing your worries as quickly as they came.

“it was jus’ a little flirting, baby. what of it?” satoru nonchalantly smiles, his mitts residing deep in his jean pockets, indifferent. you scoff. so much for him taking things seriously.

“seriously?” you question, annoyed.

“why? jealous? awww, don’t be jealous, baby. you know—” you cut satoru off by slapping away his hand as it was about to cup your cheek. “jealous of who, exactly?” you spit, vexed by his mocking tone. he chuckles, “oh come on, you’re a smart girl. figure it out,” twirling a stray lock of your hair around his finger. you push his hand away once more, fed up with his antics.

“do you just not give a fuck about me?”

satoru’s grin drops from his face at your pained expression. exasperation covered his own as you snapped at him. “what’s wrong this time?” he inquired, shifting his weight to his other leg. with how hard you rolled your eyes, you’re surprised they didn’t fall out of your skull.

this time?!

the vein on the side of your neck bulges at his complete lack of awareness. “just answer truthfully. why were you flirting with that girl?” at this point, you’re over it, over him. there’s no use in beating around the bush. no use in acting unbothered when you are bothered. satoru stares at you, boredom etched on his face. “it’s not rocket science as to why,” he scoffs.

if you didn’t have self-control, you would’ve punched him square in his gums. “apparently it is ‘cause i don’t understand it,” looking into his eyes, demanding an answer. the fact that after a year of being his girlfriend, having the same fights over and over, he still can’t comprehend why you’re upset right now.

and that fact hurts you.

“i felt like it. besides, she made it easy for me,” satoru shrugs, adjusting his sleek rolex before smoothing down his black shirt. “i mean, i can’t help that i’m handsome, baby,” pearly white grin spreading across his soft lips, singular dimple making an appearance.

a harsh laugh rips through your sternum. did he just say that out loud? you think to yourself. in this moment, friends, family, and media blogs warning you about this man, come back to haunt you in despicable ways. you feel like a fool. a complete bozo for thinking he had a shred of respect for your relationship.

what did you expect from a man tmz calls ‘satoru hoejo’?

“why did i ever bother with you, huh?! what made me think you, out of all people, could fucking understand how a fucking adult relationship fucking works? a fucking man-child is what you are, asshole,” you belittle, red hot disdain slinking into each dig you bark.

blood sloshes in your ears, your ragged breathing louder than normal as you try to uncurl your hands from their white-knuckled fists. satoru’s cool gaze studies your demeanor, chiseled arms crossing over his chest. internally, he is reveling in your outrage. he can’t help the way his cock stirs behind his fly at the fiery pitch your tone adheres to.

before he can stop himself, satoru teases, “heh, you’re so cute when you’re mad.” at his verbiage, you freeze, feeling as if a bucket of cold water was dumped over your head, clothes sticking uncomfortably to your shivering skin. you just don’t understand. how can someone who’s supposed to protect your heart, continually handle it as if it’s not fragile? you wanted so badly to believe he was different, so badly to hope he’d give you what you’ve been searching for. but as you notice that playful arrogance twinkling in his light irises, you’re made keenly aware that he’s not who he portrayed himself to be.

“and on that note, we’re done satoru. tell that girl, with the change machine between her legs, to take you home,” rounding the front of your car, reaching the driver's side door, wanting to be alone and forget about the last hour of your life.

try the last year of your life.

you couldn’t even curl your hand around the door handle before satoru grabbed your arm, halting your movements. “what are you telling me?” tightening his grasp on your elbow, agitation seeds planting in his voice. snatching your arm away from the beginnings of a vise-like grip, “fuck you,” you fume.

a cracked chuckle vacates his larynx, “fuck me? is that what you’re telling me? after i gave you things the next woman would kill for?” satoru can’t believe how irrational you’re being right now. he doesn’t know what this is. are you jealous? insecure? or just downright insane, acting this way over something so small? sure, he flirts with other girls. so what? it’s not like any of those girls meant anything to him. it’s all fun and games to him. and if he pisses you off in the process, that’s fine with him. nothing like a good pounding into the mattress to dampen your fury. and it works, every. single. time.

except now.

“what did you give me?! a fucking migraine? yeah, that’s about as much as you’ve given me throughout this entire relationship.”

“yeah? so that necklace with my initials on it, those fucking diamonds on your fingers, that fucking car! you got that all by yourself?” he scoffs, snidely.

“here, take it all back!” you seethed, ripping off your necklace and chucking it at his face. he will not have that kind of hold on you. it’s all fake. the love, the care, the feelings… none of it was real. “what else do you want? my shoes?” slipping out your heels, throwing them at his feet. “my purse?” shoving your prada bag roughly into his chest. “w-what else huh? you… you already took my heart. not like i’ll ever get that back,” fresh crystalline drops filling your eyes as they burn with the weight of your fractured heart.

satoru stands there, statue stiff, regarding the scene in his eye line. a pang of… something pierces his chest seeing you cry, fat tears gliding down your cheeks, leaving streaks in your makeup. he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, throat tight, feeling as if he scarfed down a wine cork. satoru has never seen you cry, the sight so foreign, urging that pang to sink its fangs into his heartstrings, tugging on them brutally.

as you wipe the salt water away, satoru’s fingers twitch. his nerve endings screaming at him to comfort you, to be the first man to dry your tears instead of causing you to produce more. but, he stays glued to his spot, helplessness encasing his aura as he rubs the back of his neck, fingers grazing the buzzed hair contaminating his undercut.

“(name), i—”

lifting your manicured hand, you cut off his verbiage firmly, done with him. “don’t. i’m done with your empty words, your empty apologies, your empty fucking heart. i’m done with it all,” you reiterate, voice nasally as your tears invite all your congestion to come out and play. sniffling, you strap your heels back on your feet, cringing from the gravel stabbing your feet as it gets compressed by the sole of the torture devices.

snatching your purse out of satoru's mitts, he grabs your wrist to stop you. “you’ll… you’ll miss me,” satoru spoke, as if he was trying to convince himself of that fact more than you. his azures narrow at how ridiculous his feeble attempts echo through the still atmosphere, gritting his teeth as that feeling of desperation rears its ugly head.

“i’d rather adjust my life to your absence than lower my boundaries to allow your disrespect.”

the finality of your tone is like a dagger through each chamber of his heart, with each palpitation bursting like a balloon. satoru’s clutches slacken, urging you to remove your wrist from his calluses and enter your car. through the cotton stuffed in his ears, all he can recall is the rumbling hum of the engine, tires screeching from speeding away as the distance, both proverbial and literal, between the pair increases.

nippiness pricks at satoru’s skin, creating goosebumps to rise. whispers of his regrets flirt with the breeze, each insensitive action he bestowed upon you coming home to roost. tension formulates behind his sockets, his stomach dropping as the heavy lead of despair stacks in his gut.

“dammit…”

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