Local Indie Drummer Claims Existential Dread is 'Really Good for the Ride Cymbal'

Okay, so. I spent three hours last night at ‘The Static Bloom,’ ostensibly covering the release party for Barnaby Finch’s new ambient whale song album (it was…beige). But honestly? The real story was Reginald “Reg” Periwinkle, drummer for the tragically-under-appreciated post-ironic polka band, ‘The Existential Accordions.’ Reg, between aggressively polishing his snare drum (a ritual he described as “a futile attempt to impose order on a chaotic universe”), confided in me that his recent bout of crippling existential dread has *significantly* improved his ride cymbal work. “It’s about the resonance, you see,” he mumbled, eyes darting around like a startled pigeon. “When you truly grasp the meaningless void…the futility of it all…you hit the cymbal with a…a *knowing*. A weight. It’s not just ‘ting,’ it’s ‘TING…and also, everything is dust.’ The audience feels it, subconsciously. They crave the void, even if they don’t know it.” He then proceeded to demonstrate, producing a series of cymbal crashes that, while technically proficient, sounded suspiciously like someone weeping into a metal plate. Finch, mid-whale-song, visibly flinched. I asked Reg if he’d considered therapy. He scoffed. “Therapy? That’s just…optimism. Optimism is the enemy of good drumming. And good polka. And, frankly, good living.” The Accordions’ next gig is at the laundromat next Tuesday. Bring earplugs. And maybe a philosophy textbook. You’ll need it.