Inside the London Drum Show

Inside the London Drum Show: Nerves, Energy and Unexpected Connections

The first day, in particular, began with a touch of nervousness, given the importance of what lay ahead. It was drizzling outside, and I remembered Richard’s words — that on days like this, even more people tend to attend events. That thought gave me an extra boost. After my usual morning routine, I headed to Old Street station, took the Northern Line to King’s Cross St. Pancras, and then continued on the Piccadilly Line to the final stop at Hammersmith, not far from Olympia hall.

I arrived at the venue around 8:30 am and, to my surprise, found my floor almost completely empty. Aside from staff, organisers, and a single exhibitor, there was hardly anyone around. I took the opportunity to explore the other areas of the venue before things picked up.

There was still plenty of time to visit the second floor, where I quickly spotted rising star Kaz Rodriguez, who had apparently just flown in from the United States. He was in conversation with staff, so I didn’t want to interrupt and instead continued browsing products from some of the leading manufacturers. One item that immediately caught my attention was ToneAlly — the result of a genuinely creative and well-thought-out idea. After a brief test and an engaging conversation with its creator, I returned upstairs.

Exhibitors slowly began arriving and preparing their booths for the first visitors. Before I knew it, the clock struck ten, the doors opened, and the London Drum Show 2017 officially began. At first, only a few individuals passed by the stands toward the Education Zone, but larger groups soon followed. Confident in my knowledge of the project and my ability to present it clearly, I stepped forward to engage my first visitor. I was delighted to find that the presentation resonated and that the ice was quickly broken.

Before the first major wave of visitors arrived, I refined my presentation a bit more and even managed to sell the first handbook. About two hours in, something completely unexpected happened — an event that briefly placed my stand right in the centre of attention. The reason was an energetic 73-year-old gentleman named Alan. His technical knowledge sparked a small wave of excitement. He stayed for quite some time, keeping me company before heading toward the main stage.

Throughout the day, I had the chance to present my project to a large number of people, collect many contacts, and receive plenty of positive feedback. Some of it came from highly educated musicians who recognised the handbook as a source of simple yet practical exercises for themselves and their students (more about the S.O.S. handbooks). The event came to a close for visitors around 5 pm, and somewhat later for exhibitors. I returned once more to the lower floor, which remained the liveliest area, and managed to collect a few more contacts before heading back to Old Street — tired, but extremely satisfied after the first day.

The following day, I arrived at the venue shortly before 10 am, just as the first wave of visitors began pouring in. This time, Alan wasn’t there to keep me company, but I managed the situation well on my own. Many interesting people — both younger and older — stopped by the stand and followed the presentation with genuine interest. Among them was a drummer from Slovenia whom I had already been in contact with before arriving in London, as well as a friend from a drumming camp in Grožnjan three years earlier. I didn’t recognise the latter at first, but that didn’t stop us from later reminiscing about unforgettable moments in Istria.

In between, there were occasional quiet moments that allowed for conversations with the neighbouring ACM representatives — a male promoter in his mid-twenties and a female colleague in her early thirties. Both were relaxed and friendly, though they didn’t have much work to do, as most younger visitors were mainly interested in getting permission to try the electronic drums. At times, a small queue would form, with people patiently waiting for their turn. Roughly every two hours, a much larger crowd gathered, drawn by the upcoming main performances of the headline artists.

As the event neared its end, my supply of handbooks began to run low. One of the last copies went to drummer Colin Woolway, whom I had been following for some time in Rhythm magazine and had previously been in touch with via Facebook. A compact man with a positive charisma and a typically British sense of humour, he was a fitting final encounter. With that, my part of the event came to an end. I packed up my table and headed to the main hall to catch the final moments of the headline act — in this case, Dexter Hercules of Emeli Sandé. He didn’t blow me away, but he certainly proved he belonged on the big stages of such events.

After returning to Old Street, I briefly considered celebrating the day in style — but inner voice told me there would be time for that later.