It's hard for me to imagine now how I could have played at this hectic pace for several hours a day on the streets of Cork City. My timing and stamina took a shock from being attacked in U.K. as a result of bad policing. Chemical cosh without clinical or medical need, without any mitigating provocation, in case I got angry over my unlawful detention. Had I pushed myself any further in the practice session, my body would flip into what I unfondly call "speed wobble". Involuntary shaking. It took a lot of dedicated practice to record at least a small taste of this drum style. I miss the action. The damage to my neurology is permanent. I will keep up the practice, in the belief that one may "reroute" one's neural system to accomodate the music. It is hard to stay calm when the drumming is getting wild. I live in hope. I'm not dead yet. Having a home now is an obvious help. I will keep trying to improve my physical stamina.. It's been sixteen years since the attack. Try as I might seems every route towards representation in law has been obstructed. My modest living was ruined by the assault. Sixteen years unable to work properly leaves me with eighty pounds a week pension,through my inability to bring my income to the level of basic state pension by providing voluntary contributions to my National Insurance. It is hard to meet with other musicians when the only place I can play my drum "comfortably" is in the safety of my home. I have been subjected, "targeted", six times in the U.K. The nearest I have got to an explanation as to why is a discharge note stating, "Identifiable risk factor: Excentric".
Enjoy the "drumsong", that's what I call what I do. If you should happen to dare to jam with an "excentric" stranger after hearing some of his ragged practice samples , make contact somehow. I don't bite. This was written in anticipation of the YouTube posting.There's plenty more . I'll save it for later. Nuff for now. I. WAZIR
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