1393 rhythm imbalance
“Five sixty-seven, let's go！”
But the first four beats hadn't even ended yet - to be precise, at the third sixteenth note of the fourth beat, Fletcher interrupted the performance again, shook his head slightly, and expressed his denial. Simply and neatly. , cutting off the rhythm without any sloppiness, the sense of oppression seems to be accumulating little by little, creating a shackles feeling like a stuck in the throat..
Unknowingly, Fletcher was standing in front of Andrew, with only a drum set between them - his footsteps seemed to be moving forward in line with the rhythm of his words and the accumulation of pressure, and then he Having already formed a one-on-one confrontation with Andrew, he raised his hands and pressed them down gently. You could faintly feel that he was patiently explaining the situation, "It doesn't quite fit with my rhythm. It doesn't matter, don't worry, let's do it again.”
Fletcher started beating the rhythm himself, "Five six seven, let's go.”
Andrew listened to Fletcher's rhythm and started to hit, but after four beats, Fletcher paused his playing again and said simply, "You're in a hurry. Try it again.".”
Andrew's muscles have tensed up, "rush"? Why didn't he notice？
The drumsticks just stopped, and then just before Fletcher hit the beat again, he hit the jazz drum again, as if he couldn't wait to show himself again, proving that his talent could still control the situation on the scene, but the sound of the drum beat seemed Impatient and abrupt.
He immediately paused in panic and looked towards Fletcher; Fletcher raised his hands to signal, but his tone remained gentle, "Not in a hurry. Are you ready?" Andrew didn't even realize that he Nodding, "Very good, five, six, seven... let's go"！”
Another four beats.
Fletcher shook his head repeatedly, "You're stalling. This is it." Then he gestured with his eyes, as if to say: Do you understand?？
Andrew nodded quickly to express his understanding, and then he couldn't wait to start hitting again, but Fletcher immediately waved his hand, interrupting Andrew's hasty performance, "Wait for my prompt..”
This made Andrew's muscles completely tense. He realized that he seemed to be losing control, but the tension and panic deep inside could not be revealed. He had to stay calm. Focus, focus, focus！
“Five sixty-seven, let's go！”
It’s the first four beats again, damn bar 17.
Fletcher's hands were clenched into fists, and he kept shaking his head, "Go." Then he hit his hands again, "Five, six, seven, let's go.".”
Wrong again.
“Drag it. Five, six, seven, let’s go..”
Everything seemed like a nightmare with ghosts hitting the wall. Over and over again, they were trapped in place, like a cheap horror movie. Every time, Fletcher said to rush out, he would Slowing down a little, he was delayed again; then he speeded up a little, but unexpectedly he was rushed again, and so on, going around in circles over and over again, never being able to get out of the way..
That sense of oppression begins to accumulate layer by layer. The more nervous you are, the more mistakes you make. The more mistakes you make, the more panic you have. The more panic you have, the more nervous you are. The vicious cycle cannot be stopped at all, just like a deep... Like a nightmare trapped in a maze.
Didn't Fletcher say that he came here for a reason? Didn’t Fletcher say, just relax and enjoy it? Didn't Fletcher say that he could chase Buddy Rich? Didn't Fleck say that his performance was very good?？
So what's going on now? What happened? What did he do wrong? What's wrong with his performance?？
He doesn't know. What's more terrifying than making mistakes is that he doesn't know where he went wrong. How should fast and slow be coordinated and controlled? What on earth is going on with the third sixteenth note in the fourth measure? Damn sixteenth notes, what do you mean by rushing and what do you mean by delaying?？
what to do? what to do！
Andrew's shoulders became completely tense, and he played the same measure again like an endless loop..
The first four beats passed. There was no sound..
The second four beats passed again. Still no sound.
Andrew looked at Fletcher out of the corner of his eyes, trying to further confirm whether this was good news or bad news, and was his playing finally correct? Was the rhythm just now Fletcher's? Wait, if that's correct, what was the rhythm just now? Where should Fletcher's rhythm be?？
But Fletcher turned around and couldn't see his expression at all. He could only judge from his back. He was nodding his head to beat the rhythm, as if he was completely immersed in the melody..
This made Andrew work harder and harder, trying his best to show his spirituality and talent, hoping to win Fletcher's favor again..
Fletcher stood next to the door, holding the folding chair with his right hand, and his jaw still kept tapping the beat. He looked very enjoying and comfortable. Without warning, he raised the folding chair. The chair, like throwing a Frisbee, turned around and flew in the direction of Andrew..
Andrew, who was playing the drums seriously, slowed down for half a beat, and then saw the folding chair whirling around like drops of blood. A strong sense of survival suddenly burst out, and he quickly bent down and hugged his head with both hands. Taking a defensive posture, you can feel the air waves whizzing by the helicopter propellers above your head..
“call.”
The sharp and sharp wind swept past mightily, and then the folding chair hit the wooden wall behind it hard, making a muffled sound, knocking down everything next to it, and the entire Everyone in the rehearsal room was frightened, and the trombones, French horns, and saxophones all began to go out of tune and lost their original shape..
Andrew even received a critical hit of 100,000 points..
His life was in danger. He truly felt that his life was hanging by a thread. He stuck his head out in shock and looked around cautiously. His continuous swallowing of saliva faintly revealed the fear and panic in his heart. The rapidly flashing The pupils even revealed the anxious embarrassment and timidity.
What's going on？
What happened just now？
Andrew hesitantly sat upright again, and then saw Fletcher standing directly in front of him, staring at him expressionlessly. Andrew felt aggrieved and confused, and couldn't understand the situation at all, with slightly trembling pupils. Fletcher glanced at him, but quietly turned away because of fear, but Fletcher's eyes were as if he could eat him alive at any time, so he had to move his eyes again and look directly at Fletcher..
I swallowed again, trying to relieve my tension, but it was too difficult..
Inhale, exhale; inhale again, exhale again.
Fletcher only used two actions to show his suppressed anger. He was very angry. He was so angry now that even though he had just thrown the chair, he still could not vent his emotions. He needed it now If it breaks out, whoever hits the muzzle of the gun will die in an extremely ugly way..
Obviously, now Andrew is on the receiving end of a gun.
Fletcher tried hard to remain calm and once again supported his chin with one hand, "Do you know why I threw the chair at you just now? Neiman？”
Deep down in his heart, Andrew knew the answer: he made a mistake. But the problem was, he didn't know where he went wrong. Now his head was a mess and he couldn't think at all. He could only stammer, "I... I don’t know.” The violently shaking pupils revealed the uncertainty in his heart..
“Of course you know." Fletcher said decisively..
Andrew held his breath, closed his lips tightly, and his eyes condensed slightly. No one noticed. He secretly adjusted his breathing, as if he was cheering for himself, and then tried his best to keep his words steady, " Rhythm？”
Fletcher took a deep breath and rubbed his chin with his right hand, "Are you rushing or delaying?"？”
Andrew's expression froze, he blinked slightly, and said hesitantly, "I...I don't know..”
This answer completely angered Fletcher, who strode over with murderous eyes that seemed to have put Andrew on the gallows, "Start counting.".”
“Five, six, seven..." Andrew couldn't help but closed his eyes. The ubiquitous fear firmly surrounded him, and even his voice began to tremble slightly..
“Count to hell four! "Fletcher's voice was tense to the extreme, and his anger seeped out bit by bit, "Look at me.！”
Like a robot, Andrew turned his head numbly, trying hard to stare at Fletcher with his eyes wide open, but the focus and focus were losing bit by bit, and his light brown eyes were filled with light, just like fawn spots. He was more innocent and vulnerable than usual, but he still tried hard not to look away, and then... he started counting..
“One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.”
The count had just begun when Fletcher raised his right hand and slapped him hard, but when he was about to land on Andrew's face, he slapped it over Andrew's head..
The next second, "stuck", Damien's voice shouted out. He held his head in annoyance and repeatedly let out depressed exclamations, "JK, oh, JK, what's going on? What's going on! Everything is fine, isn't it?！”
Simmons himself hugged the bald head. All the anger and irritability disappeared like the tide. He stood up straight with great depression and looked at Renly who was close at hand..
He couldn't do it, and he couldn't do it after all. It was at this time, the slap happened at this time, but Simmons was still unable to shake it off severely. He couldn't help but brake at the last moment. He knew it was wrong, but He couldn't control his emotions. The panic and timidity that should have appeared in Andrew's body fell into his heart..
This is really difficult.
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