Stephen King is my favorite author. Easily. The way he draws character, plots a story, and strategically and methodically unpacks the baggage of his protagonists is like crack cocaine to a reader like me with the attention span of a gerbil.

I recently watched him speak to a group of students in a video on YouTube.com where he mentioned that he’s “always been in love with books” and confesses to “reading more than I write”.

I think that last bit — reading more than he writes — is key to why he connects so well to such a broad audience.

Think about this: King is a genre writer. He’s a niche author. His kind of audience, people who are in it for the scares, are not the numbers audience a J.K Rowling probably enjoys or a “50 Shades” would bring. Yet he’s sold more than 350 million copies and is one of the most celebrated and respected authors of our time. That says a lot. The guy knows how to spin a yarn. He knows how to grab us by the neck and ratchet the tension until we are peeing in our pants. Fear is primal. We are all afraid of something. Stephen King gets that and he knows how to strike at the core of it.

How did he develop that skill? Natural ability? Sure. To a certain degree. But natural ability only goes so far and then it’s about fine-tuning and honing those skills you were born with. It’s about woodshedding.

I’m a drummer. People say I was born with natural rhythm. I don’t know if that’s true. Maybe. It could be hereditary, but I don’t honestly know — I’m not a genetic scientist. But whatever… I have me some and I’m grateful. But I didn’t become a studio musician by sitting on my keister and being proud of my family tree. I worked. I pushed. I practiced. I hit the woodshed. I fought through the paradiddle wrist development and the double-kick calf-cramping.

And… I listened.

Like King says he reads great books, I listen to great music. Growing up, I studied the great technicians of my time as well as those of generations before me. Technicians of all shapes and sizes: J.R., Moffett, Gould, Bonzo, Peart, Buddy, Roach, Vinnie, Manu, Gould, Castronovo, Aronoff, Keltner, Hakim, etc. Those were the cats I was into. They were my “school”. They were my resource library.

And I’m still listening today. When I talk to this generation of aspiring musicians and composers I’m struck by how little they are listening. They are creating, which is great, but they aren’t listening. They have very little reference to what has come before or what is happening now. The other day while speaking to drummers, I brought up Thomas Pridgen and they all looked at me like I had a baby alien growing out of my forehead. Seriously? Okay, Billy Ward? [crickets] Thomas Hedlund? [more crickets] REALLY? Alright, Gavin Harrison then. [even more crickets] NO FRIGGIN’ WAY!!!!????

Look, you don’t have to like them, necessarily… But you have to know who they are, for god sakes!

Well, maybe not even that, but you at least have to listen.

And there’s the reason why most musicians who want to turn pro don’t get there: Musical illiteracy.

Not the reading kind… The hearing kind. Knowing music.

Talk to Travis Barker, Chad Smith or Kim Thompson. You think they are just players who got lucky with big acts? Nope. Those cats are walking encyclopedias of music history. The well from which they draw runs deep. That’s where their musicality comes from. Dave Grohl — You might not like his playing or his output, but he knows his shit. You don’t get to jam with McCartney by not knowing the Beatles’ catalog and being in awe of their place in history.

In the SCOREcast forums, amazingly, I run into composers all the time who don’t know Penderecki from Stravinski. Shit, they wouldn’t know Goldsmith from Horner if you asked them! It’s terrible. Yet, they are determined to be *different* amongst the throngs of cats trying to carve a niche in a crowded field. Good luck with all that. Not likely.

Don’t misread me by thinking I’m saying that you cannot compose or play without knowing what has gone down before. That’s to completely miss the point. You aren’t listening! (There may be a theme here for you!)

My point is that you will compose better if you do. You’ll be a better piano player if you know Cage, Corea and Hornsby and the difference between the three. You’ll be a better bassist if you understand why Jaco played fretless while Patitucci prefers upright and electric 6-string. Both jazzers, but completely different vibe and sensibilities. Why? Well… you ought to know. It’s more grist for your mill.

And that’s what it’s about, right? Being a well-rounded pro. Being seasoned. What good is a one-trick pony in an industry built on thoroughbreds? If you want to be a session ace you’ve got to know how to navigate through all kinds of water. That’s the gig. You’re the salty sailor. A chameleon. A master of all trades. Able to leap tall buildings in a single take.

The short game is for the people who are here today and gone tomorrow. You gotta have the long game down if you want to last. Drummers have to know “Stick Control”. Forwards AND backwards. Hands AND feet. They need to have worked through Ted Reed’s “Syncopation”. You know how many damn times I’ve worked through those exercises? Hundreds. And I’m still learning new things in there. Rick Latham’s stuff. Those texts have stood the test of time for a reason. Get them ALL and devour those gems like you don’t have time to waste.

Because you really don’t. Not if you want a fighting chance.

The clock ticks forward. While you are convinced your genetic code is going to get you there, hundreds of players are out there woodshedding and working harder.

They’re rehearsing. They’re creating. They’re playing…

But they’re also listening.