The Soul of Percussion: Crafting Life Stories through Rhythm

Let me begin with a short and awkward introduction, one that is always hard for me to condense into one neat sentence. Hi, I’m Vincent Sebastian, a percussionist that has been performing professionally for 25 years. There… that wasn’t so bad. But what is percussion ? ‘Percussion’ is the musical instruments played by striking with the hand, or with a stick, or by shaking, such as conga drums, timbales, or maracas. Being a percussionist means to follow the calling of exploring these instruments, their histories, sounds, and role in affecting human consciousness in a variety of situations. This passion develops into an artform as one begins to explore the ‘soul of percussion’, and starts to craft a unique life story in the bearer.

Early days

My obsession with music, and in particular, with rhythm and the conga drums, started at the young age of 3 years old and has continued throughout my life, being the one stable and consistent thing that has opened up a variety of opportunities and new experiences, including the meeting of new people and seeing of exotic places. Having my conga drums close by my side has enabled me to enter parties, explore rich mansions in exotic places, and travel the world. The drums have brought me relationships, passion, and work, but the lifestyle has also brought me trouble, pain, and suffering. At the root of it all, is a pure childlike love for rhythm and a fascination with the conga drum and percussion, of the striking of hand-to-skin which makes the pulsating rhythms that make people dance and feel joy.

The first drum

I remember the first time I set eyes of a drum, I was 3 years old and I was living with my grandmother. Her son (my uncle Ralph) was in his early twenties then, and after a solid night of partying, he and his friend Andrew arrived home with a bongo drum in hand. I remember them walking in the door and my eyes locked onto the drum. I was fascinated by it. That drum left an imprint in my mind that would never leave. I am certain now looking back, that we are brought to this world for a purpose, and certain events act as triggers to reunite us with that purpose. This moment was my trigger, making me aware that the drum was to become a significant part of my life.

Music as life and identity

Music was a part of my life as early as I can remember. Throughout primary school I would sing the songs that I loved, performing them for ‘show and tell’, and joining with my friends in the playground to enact our favourite artists. This progressed into high school where I would regularly perform at parties, organising school bands and assembling performance groups with my peers. I was known as the ‘music guy’ in school, and it brought me renown, allowing me to create friendships with a wide variety of people. As you can see, my love and passion for music was already beginning to define my identity.

It was in my early teenage years that I took on the task of teaching myself conga drums through obsessively learning from Salsa recordings and various Latin songs that my parents listened to at home. I also obsessed with videos of master congueros, such as Giovanni Hidalgo and Changuito, rewinding the tapes over and over to learn their styles. I dedicated myself to learning, locking myself in my room for hours every day to practice rhythms and technique. It wasn’t until years later that I would have various formal teachers, both in Australia and in South America, that would expand the knowledge I had developed on my own. I started bringing my conga drums to my school performances, and when I started performing in nightclubs during university, the conga drums were always front and centre.

Infiltrating Secret Parties

People often looked at these exotic drums in awe, for they provided an energy and vibe that captivated people. Playing the conga drums enabled me to meet an array of people from all walks of life, and to work my way into the centre of any party. I remember in my early twenties hearing about a secret nightclub called ‘Tatlers’, that could only be entered by secret password. One night, I rocked up to the venue with my drums in hand. An eye peaked through a square slit in the door and said “who are you ?”, I responded with “I’m Vincent, I’m a conga drummer, I have my drums here”. I felt his initial hostility change to curiosity. Quickly trying to  take advantage of the change of mood, I continued “I can come down and play if you want ?” There was no response but only silence. I waited for what seemed a long time, before he muttered “Well hurry up and get in here then!” as the door opened slightly ajar, enough to let me in.

As I walked down the steep stairway that led into the party below, I was captivated by the amount of weird and wonderful people. Half-naked ladies, men painted from head to toe, and an energy in the room that was palatable. The room was heaving energy as people danced on tables, couches, and on the dancefloor in perfect sync. The DJ played a mix of disco, house, soul, and classic anthems, often throwing in obscure tracks which elevated the atmosphere. The place was a deep red tinge, an underground cavern filled with elaborate paintings, leather couches, old furniture, and a sense of class. It was a modern-day Studio 54, with all sorts of personalities, including people in drag, punks in full attire and spiked hair, topless men and women, all in coordination with the pulsation of the music.

I perched upon a couch, trying to find the performance area or stage. Deep within the heart of the dancefloor I saw a kit drummer set up on the floor, a guy that I later learnt was known as ‘Jonesy’. Not far from him, wedged in-between two walls was a DJ playing vinyl. In my typical boldness, I marched right up to the drummer and started unloading my conga drums. He looked at me puzzled and asked “Are you booked to play here?” I said “yes” without flinching. I could tell he didn’t believe me, but I didn’t want to give him the chance to kick me out so I maintained my air of confidence, knowing that once I started paying it wouldn’t matter anyway. I placed my drums on the floor and found a chair. With one confident swoop I started playing vigorously, aligning perfectly with the groove he was playing on the drum kit, and forming my drum melodies to compliment the music from the DJ. Every one of the dancefloor turned to look at me with faces in awe, curiosity, and then profound excitement, and as they drew closer to me, circling me so they could feel the pulsation of the drums. I felt the energy of the party expand, physically and emotionally, as a palatable sense of thickness in the air expanded as was sensed by all. My drums had instantly changed the mood of the space, and within seconds, it filled people with extreme joy and exhilaration. No longer were we separate individuals, but one unified organism.

I became a regular at that club, playing three nights a week for the next 6 years. I held my own events there and introduced many people to the club over the years. The excentric English owner, Ian, loved me for the vibe I brought, and I was captivated by his amazing ability to create a space and atmosphere that enabled people to forget their troubles and to let loose. My role was to facilitate that ever further through the music and my performance, enabling people to lose themselves in the moment.

Travels abroad

During this time, I was regularly traveling to South America to visit my family in Chile and Uruguay, but also to study percussion with various teachers in Cuba, Peru, Colombia, and Brazil. I wanted to learn rhythms and styles from across the continent, and experience the rhythms performed in their cultural content. This was an enriching time that enabled me to experience percussion in both religious and folkloric rituals, in parties across Latin America, such as in the mountains of the Andes, the favellas of Brazil, and the clubs of Medellin. These experiences fuelled me with a rich knowledge and experience, which I would funnel into my performances back home in Sydney Australia. At home, I was dedicated to integrating this knowledge into performances that catered not only to Latinos, but to Anglo-Australians, and so over the years, I put together various bands and events that fused Latin music with styles relevant to Australian audiences.

One band that I played a role in creating was Watussi, and 8-piece Latin, rock, reggae, and roots band. This band did very well in Australia, crossing over into commercial TV and festivals despite being in predominantly Spanish. We were nominated for Australia’s top honour, and Aria award, and got to tour with Santana, Earth, Wind, and Fire, Suen Kuti, and headline the Sydney Opera House for Brian Eno. Unlike most bands that feature percussion tucked in the back, I performed at the front, to the left of the lead singer, being a pivotal part of the performance and a symbol of the Latin roots of the music which was captured by the array of drums I assembled on stage. In this position I was able to pour every ounce of energy into every performance, playing my drums like my life depended on it. This rawness and primal energy was a key component of the show, which, in combination with the energy and dynamism of the lead singer and other players, made our performances very unique at the time. We were able to take the band touring through South America, completing a circle as Latin Australians to present our fusion roots music to the homeland.

Cuban Adventures

It was during this time that I set off once more to Cuba to explore my interests in the music of religious rituals. I was always interested in how music performances were able to change the atmosphere and mood of the audience and provide mystical experiences, and I wanted to explore the roots of this practice. This I found in Cuba, both in the rituals of Santeria, in its folklore, and in its popular music, a land which was the birthplace of the conga drum. While the roots of the conga drum had descended from Africa from the bantu-speaking region of Congo (associated with makuta drums) during the transatlantic slave trade, it wasn’t until it reached Cuba that the drums developed into the modern-day conga drums we know today. In Cuba, the traditional rhythms of the conga (known as tumbadoras in Spanish) developed into new playing styles expanded by virtuosic musicians, such as Tata Guiness, Pancho Quinto, Patato Valdes, Changuito, Los Chinitos, and a host of well-known and lesser-known Cuban innovators. This was the birthplace of the tumbadora that I valued so much, and it fuelled my fascination with the island, its people, its music, and rhythms.

Figure 1.1: Makuta drummers from Sagua la Grande, Cuba, 1947.

Figure1.2: Modern day conga drums

 Traversing an island with the aim of learning rhythms changes who you meet and how the trip develops. I had multiple Cuban teachers who taught me the fundamental history of Cuban rhythms, and who introduced me to its use within religious rituals. In these intense rituals, I felt how the drums were able to captivate people, inspiring high energy dance, and altering the atmosphere to a transcendent level. These were some of the most intense and visceral experiences of my life, which would set the path for my later explorations of these practices during my PHD research. 

Early on, when I first arrived in Cuba at age 21, I met a Cuban woman named Yasney. I was standing on the balcony of a friends place in Havana and I saw her walking down the main strip. For some reason she seemed very different to all the other Cuban women I had seen. I ran down and tapped her on the shoulder and said “Hi”. She looked at me puzzled, and knowing instantly I was a tourist, asked what I was doing in Cuba. What came out of my mouth was honest but probably not what she expected. I said “I’m here to learn percussion from the best Cuban teachers!”.  She smiled, liking my answer, and asked “Well, have you found any ?” I said “Well… no… not yet.” to which she answered, “Well, I’ m a violinist for the National School of Music, I could probably set you up with any teacher you want”. My jaw dropped, and over the next few days she sent me a list of the top percussionist in Havana at the time, putting me in contact with them. I eventually ended up studying with Emilio Del Monte Junior, son of the famed Cuban musician Emilio Del Monte Senior. For the next month I took daily classes, learning everything I could about Cuban music and rhythm. At night I would meet up with Yasney and was introduced to an underground Cuban music scene by attending her concerts and accompanying her to local gigs. Here, was another perfect example of how the drums opened up new pathways for me. Through my love and passion for drums and rhythm, I was able to meet many amazing people, have unique experiences, and learn new types of knowledge. It is as if the world opened up for me as long as I followed my heart and its yearning for learning and performing rhythm.

The deaf ‘hear’ music

Since then, my professional career has always included the conga drum, whether it’s through performance in various bands, through my DJing, recordings with Oyobi, or in my research into ritual, music psychology, and music culture. It has been central to my teaching workshops of adults and kids, and provided an aesthetic which adorned my various dwellings, often harbouring more drums than I could find space for. On one occasion I was booked to do a workshop for kids. Upon arriving I noticed something very peculiar about the children, not realising they were all deaf. Not sure what I was there to do if they could not hear me or my drums, the teacher said, “just play and have them join in, they can feel the music through their bodies”. I was blown away, never thinking they could experience the music in a different way. It was evidence that music is more than just an aural experience, but a full body capability. The kids went wild, dancing and playing the drums in ecstasy as the resonance of the drums infused their minds and bodies.

Alleviation of pain and suffering

Through the various moments in my life that I was depressed, whether through breakups, or loneliness, through hard times and difficult situations, I was able to turn to music to provide a respite. Music, whether created alone or with others is a source of joy which forces you to be in the present moment. After one particularly long and hard breakup in 2019 where it felt like my life was crumbling around me, the art of playing music kept me sane and gave me the resilience to endure. I would lock myself in the studio for hours, creating and recording music that soothed my soul. At other times, I would begrudgingly meet with my friends to create music, and once we started playing, all of life’s dramas were instantly gone. Afterwards, I felt a sense of aliveness and positivity, a drastic change from how I was feeling previously. When I felt like locking myself in a room to escape from the world, performing pushed me out into social settings, providing positive experiences and interactions that altered my mood and outlook on life, and helped me believe things would eventually get better.

Final words

Experiences like this are enough to fill many books, yet I’ve presented a few of them here. Though my love of the drums I was able to carve out a life and career which provided opportunities that I could not have imagined. The drums touch deep into the heart of my identity, history, and pave the way into my future. Through the drums I have learnt who I am, what I want, and how to get it. It provided me the ability to bring people together, providing joy, and healing my own sense of loneliness and isolation in the world. Its taught me that to be a person means living one’s passion, and allowing it to take you where it may. Its shown me that boldness has its rewards and that rhythm tells stories. These stories are embedded in the history of the conga drum itself, emerging out of Africa and syncretising within Cuba to form something new that has penetrated the world. The conga drum is a life force, having its own history but simultaneously, changing the life of those that treat it with awe and respect. This instrument has altered my own life, leading me to explore it in many ways and in many situations, and over many countries and continents, altering my life story and setting me on a path that I could not have imagined.

Thanks for reading. If you would like to read previous articles then head to https://www.vincentsebastian.com/blog . Don’t forget to join the newsletter for upcoming thought-provoking articles about music practice and psychology, culture, spirituality, and creativity . You can check out my original ​music​ here.