Everything changed on my birthday a few years ago.
I still remember the surprise and excitement as my partner, a tall handsome Irishman, led me on a mysterious journey through London's winding streets. We ended up at the legendary Scar Studios in Camden. Unbeknownst to me, he had arranged a drumming lesson as a birthday gift. My heart raced, both from the surprise and from the intimidating sight of the vast array of drums before me.
Little did I know then that this would spark a passion for drumming that would carry me on an exhilarating, albeit challenging, musical voyage. I quickly realized I had no great natural talent. My limbs flailed wildly trying to mimic my teacher Alain's graceful rhythmic dance. But with encouragement I persisted, sustained by my growing love for those hypnotic beats. Practice makes permanent, I told myself. I carved out time between my demanding job, family life, and time with my thoughtful partner. I was driven by a voice inside that told me this journey would be fulfilling if I stuck to it.
After months spent honing my craft alone, I finally mustered the courage to put myself out there and respond to a "Drummer Wanted" ad. My heart pounded as I showed up to that first audition, worried I would be exposed as an imposter, a pretender who had no business holding those sticks. But the band welcomed me warmly and we bonded over powerful punk beats. Our musical chemistry was undeniable. After years spent alone with my metronome for company, suddenly I was part of something electrifying - a tribe connected through rhythm.
Now I proudly drum for the noise-pop trio Bedlam Motel, thundering chaotic cadences underscoring the band's raw exuberance. My days are a blur of logistics - scheduling rehearsals between work shifts, hustling amps into venues, and uploading our demos. It's hectic but thrilling - I feel so alive! Our musical experimentation yields wild joyful jams and the occasional heartfelt anthem. I lose myself in rhythm until suddenly it's midnight and time has evaporated. Dragging my aching body to my day job after late-night playing makes me wonder if I'm crazy to stretch myself so thin. But then I remind myself - I've found my calling, my passion. How could I walk away?
When we finally capture the magic of our sound in the recording studio this year, I know all those long hours will pay off. And when I stride confidently down the street, sticks in hand, flanked by guitars, I'll smile to myself and think - I'm not just a fan anymore. I'm the drummer, the pulse propelling this band. I'm finally living my rock and roll dream! Aurea Garrido