I do my best to keep these newsletters honest, open, to the point, and thorough. Today is no exception…
What I want to talk about today, is what it really takes to be a professional.
Not the Instagram version. Not the highlight reel. Not the “lucky break” fairytale that people cling to. I mean the real work.
The balance between labor and love. The brutal commitment it takes to carve out a sustainable career, and the unwavering discipline needed to keep that career alive.
Because make no mistake—being a professional drummer is not just about playing drums. As I’ve mentioned time and time again, there is sooooo much more to it than just that.
So let’s get into it…
Being a Professional Means Showing Up. Always.
People love to romanticize this life. They think it’s all inspiration, freedom, and passion. And while those things exist, they only exist because of the structure, discipline, and relentless commitment behind the scenes.
Being a professional means showing up, and whether you feel like it or not.
Some days you’ll be fired up. Everything flows. Your hands and feet feel great. Your ideas are exciting and everything is moving forward. You could play for hours without breaking a sweat. We’ve all been there.
Other days? You’re tired. You’re unmotivated. The sticks feel foreign in your hands. You don’t want to practice. Your mind starts playing games… Have you even played this instrument before?
And that’s when the separation happens.
The amateur stops and waits for motivation.
Whereas the professional, well, they keep moving.
The professional gets to work regardless of how they feel. The professional has dialed in their mindset to the point where their feelings are NEVER a factor in whether they show up or not. It’s not even a question.
The work has to get done—and not just when you feel like it. The work needs to get done every single day.
Labor vs. Love—Finding the Balance
This is where a lot of people struggle. Including me.
Drumming starts from a place of love. It’s a true connection to the craft, and the craft alone. It’s fun. It’s expressive. It’s creative. It’s an absolute pleasure each and every time you sit behind the kit.
But the second you decide to take it seriously (usually around the 5-10year mark)—whether that’s being a session player, a touring musician, an educator, or a content creator—it also becomes labor.
And this is what people don’t understand.
The people who make this work for the long haul? Well, they’ve found a way to balance both. They protect their passion while maintaining the discipline needed to keep moving forward.
For me, that means two things:
1. I never stop working on my craft. This is priority #1.
Even if I’m not playing gigs, I’m in the studio grinding, developing my voice, and refining my ideas. Trying to push myself day in and day out. That’s the love, yes, but it’s also increasing your value.
But I never let creativity blind me to reality. If I’m doing something for someone else’s project, there needs to be a value exchange.
I touched on this last week but it either it pays well, or it challenges me in a way that excites me, and moves me forward.
That’s the labor.
The love fuels the labor. And the labor? Well, if managed correctly, the labor protects the love.
Let’s break that down a little more…
What I’m saying is, your passion (love) for drumming is what keeps you committed to the hard work (labor), and in turn, if you approach this mindfully, the disciplined effort you put into your craft (labor) will ensure you can continue loving what you do without burning out or losing your way.
It’s about balance.
If you only focus on the love, you risk being inconsistent, undisciplined, or struggling to make a career out of it.
If you only focus on the labor, you risk turning your passion into a chore, grinding yourself into the ground, and losing the joy that made you want to do this in the first place.
By maintaining both, you have a better shot at creating a sustainable and fulfilling career.
Your Craft is Everything!
If you take nothing else from this email, take this:
Your craft is everything.
If you want to stand out, you need to be undeniable. To become undeniable, you need to put the reps. Time – yes! Effort – Hell yes! More than most, in fact. That’s how you become undeniable.
What it also means is, when an opportunity presents itself, there’s absolutely no hesitation. You’re ready.
Remember, we don’t prepare for the opportunities that we know are coming, we prepare for the ones we don’t know are coming.
But how do we do this? Well, if we zoom out, it always starts with goals. But in short, to become undeniable and keep our craft moving forward, the most important thing is to stop practicing what you’re already really good at.
Get back to challenging yourself!
The best players—the ones at the top—are constantly identifying weak points in their playing, and attacking them head on.
That’s why I still put in 2-4 hours a day. Rain, hail, or shine. Because I know that if I stop pushing, I’ll stop growing, and I will not let that happen.
My opportunities directly correlate with my efforts. Nothing more.
It’s easy to sit back and coast. To stick to what feels comfortable. We’ve all been there. But that’s not how you get better.
Growth is hard. Growth is uncomfortable. It’s supposed to be.
Get used to that feeling. Get addicted to it. That’s your north star.
Professionalism is More Than Playing.
Here’s what a lot of people miss.
Being a professional drummer is about what we do off the kit too.
It’s about:
- Reliability. Show up early, be prepared, and ready to go. Nobody cares how good you are if they can’t count on you.
- Self-awareness. Know your role in each musical situation you come across. Some gigs need chops. Some need groove. Some need restraint. Some don’t. Your job is to know the difference. Read the room.
- Communication. If you’re dealing with artists, MDs, producers, or students, you need to be clear, concise, professional, and easy to work with. Good communication is the foundation of all healthy relationships.
- Health & Stamina. The ‘rockstar’ days are long gone. So take good care of your body and mind. Strength, endurance, recovery—they all matter. And trust me, people notice. Don’t become a liability.
- Business Sense. Understand the value you bring, and don’t be afraid to charge accordingly. Remember, exposure doesn’t pay the bills. Back yourself.
The best players in the world aren’t just great drummers, they’re great professionals, too. If you are ‘hardwork’, you are out!
This Life Isn’t For Everyone (And That’s Okay)
This career isn’t easy. The hustle is real, and it demands sacrifice.
It’s often late nights followed by early mornings, and sometimes playing shows you don’t want to play, just so you can afford to play the ones you do want to play, to help move things forward.
It’s long hours alone in the practice room, refining, working on ideas, trying things out, and often things that might never see the light of day. Thats just how it is.
It’s a commitment in every sense of the word.
It’s rejection. It’s uncertainty. It’s risk. It’s the unknown.
And it’s not for everyone.
If you’re not obsessed with this instrument—if you don’t love it enough to push through the hard times—you won’t last. And that’s fine. It’s nearly got me a few times. Trust me.
But if you do want it—if you’re willing to commit, to push, to grind, to outwork everyone else—then you’ll make it. Without a doubt.
Compare yourself to the best, and
It won’t happen overnight. But it will happen.
Final Thoughts.
So, what does it take to be a professional?
Show up every day—whether you want to or not. Remove the feelings, and just get to work.
Balance the love and the labor—so protect your passion but stay disciplined.
Invest in your craft—put in the reps and do the hard work.
Be professional—on and off the kit.
Accept that it won’t be easy—neither should it be.
This isn’t just about drumming. It’s about mindset. Discipline. Attitude. Consistency. Commitment.
It’s about doing the work to build something that lasts.
There are no shortcuts here. No easy roads. Just the results from the work. Thats it.
Do the work now, and trust me, the rewards will come.
————–
Let’s leave it there—you know, bikes to pick up (getting serviced), students to teach, and practice to do etc etc.
Thanks for taking the time, I appreciate it.
As always, stay hungry (and healthy),
Stan