Music & Vibe Coding

July 29, 2025

There’s been quite a bit of noise lately about music, AI, and this thing called vibe coding. I think it’s worth paying attention. At their intersection is a toolkit that’s powerful, playful, and increasingly accessible to creators who don’t come from a traditional tech background.

Do I think AI-composed music is the most artistic thing in the world? Probably not. But that’s not really the point. What AI has done is open a door! It helps folks like me with little or no experience in HTML, CSS, or Java Script, to bring ideas to life. My high school computer literacy class didn’t cover any of those languages. Maybe it does now. But even if it did, the game has changed again.

This week, AI helped me prototype something I’ve been thinking about for years: a metronome that listens like a human. Sure, it clicks on the beat like a standard metronome, but flip it into human mode and now we’re talking. It allows subtle tempo fluctuation from beat to beat, simulating the feel of playing with real people. Slide the fader left and it’s like jamming with someone who has impeccable time. Slide it right and you’ll feel the difference.

Enjoy it. Play with it. Let it mess with your groove a little. Just don’t tell your teacher you practiced with a robot.

Check out my new metronome creation here

Lately, my days revolve around two very different types of focus. I spend my mornings chasing a toddler and my afternoons teaching students. That leaves a small part of the day, usually about 45 to 90 minutes, for my own creative development. It is not a lot of time, especially when I am trying to maintain technique, generate new musical ideas, and stay engaged with the music community on Threads at @tvc_music. Still, within those short practice sessions, I have found meaningful growth.

One shift that has made a big difference is narrowing each session to just a few specific goals. Rather than trying to cover everything, I focus on three to five areas that I return to consistently. Right now, I am working on a 7/4 ostinato, swing time using the second and third partials on the snare drum while improvising with the bass drum, arpeggios on piano, Beethoven’s Opus 49 Number 1, and coordination exercises to strengthen the relationship between snare and bass drum. These targets are challenging, but they help me stay motivated and make better use of the limited time I have.

This more focused approach is not just improving my playing. It is also changing how I listen. I find myself picking up subtle details in phrasing, timing, and tone that I might have missed before. The work I am doing now is not about preparing for a specific performance. It is about becoming a better musician overall, both technically and creatively.

Sharing this process online has also helped. I have always struggled with what to post, mostly because I worried that people would scroll past or not care. Lately, though, I have been experimenting with sharing more about my day-to-day growth. I have received genuine encouragement from other musicians and had thoughtful conversations that helped me reflect more deeply. There have also been a few negative comments, which made me wonder what drives someone to troll. Maybe it is the reaction they hope to provoke, or maybe it is something else. Either way, I am choosing to focus on the positive connections and constructive feedback.

This season of life is busy and full, but I am learning to treat the time I do have with respect and purpose. A single exercise, a few clean repetitions, or a small breakthrough at the piano can all add up. Even thirty minutes of honest practice can move the needle forward.

So I will end with a question. How are you growing your passions and skills? Even when time feels scarce, there is still room to learn, reflect, and move forward. Sometimes, the most meaningful progress happens in the smallest windows.

I’ve got some incredibly exciting news to share with you all: I’m releasing a new book this fall, and it’s something I believe will genuinely help so many of you looking to expand your rhythmic horizons on the drum set. It’s a collection of 10 unique etudes specifically designed to help drum set players master the art of swinging in 3/4 time.

For too long, the drumming landscape has been overwhelmingly dominated by 4/4 time. And don’t get me wrong, 4/4 is the cornerstone of so much incredible music! Most method books, exercises, and even professional transcriptions are firmly rooted in that time signature. This makes perfect sense, as so many of the fundamental strategies and techniques we learn as drummers are built around the pulse of four.

However, the world of music is far richer than just 4/4. Think about the beautiful waltzes in jazz, the intricate folk tunes, or even contemporary pieces that venture beyond the standard. When you encounter a song in 3/4, the common advice often boils down to “just apply your 4/4 ideas and adapt.” While that might work for some experienced players, it’s often a murky and frustrating path for many. The feel of a swing waltz is distinctly different, and trying to force a 4/4 mindset onto it can lead to awkward phrasing and a lack of true fluidity.

That’s precisely why I dedicated myself to creating this book. I wanted to build a clear, accessible, and enjoyable learning path for drummers who might have little to no prior experience playing in 3/4. My goal was to demystify the process and provide a practical framework that sets you up for immediate success. Each of the 10 etudes in this book is carefully crafted to progressively build your understanding and comfort with the unique rhythmic language of 3/4 swing.

You won’t find a compendium of “ass-kicker” exercises or hyper-complex professional transcriptions here. This book is designed to be chill and genuinely helpful. It’s about nurturing your rhythmic intuition and building a solid foundation, not overwhelming you with insurmountable challenges. We’re focusing on establishing a confident and authentic swing feel in 3/4, step by step.

But here’s a little secret, a little challenge for you, and something that makes this book even more special: at the heart of each etude is a standard jazz melody. As you work through the drum parts, you’ll be subtly engaging with some of the most beloved tunes in the jazz repertoire. Can you identify them? It’s a fun way to connect your rhythmic practice with melodic understanding and deepen your appreciation for these timeless compositions. I’ve intentionally woven these familiar melodies into the fabric of each etude to provide a sense of musicality and context, making the learning process more engaging and less purely technical.

So, if you’ve ever felt intimidated by 3/4, or simply want to expand your rhythmic vocabulary and unlock new creative possibilities on the drum set, this book is for you. Stay tuned for more details on the official release date this fall. I can’t wait for you to get your hands on it and start swinging in a whole new dimension! Get ready to embrace the waltz and add a beautiful new groove to your drumming toolkit.

Recently, I met a new class of drummers at one of the places I teach. Like many groups I’ve worked with, this one included a wide range of personalities, behaviors, and learning preferences. Some students jumped in eagerly, while others observed quietly. One student in particular stood out during our first session—not because they were the most advanced player, but because they struggled to stay seated, frequently interrupted activities with questions, and couldn’t seem to begin with the group when prompted.

At first glance, it might have seemed like they weren’t getting much from the lesson. But at the beginning of our second class, something surprising happened. While the rest of the class was settling in, I noticed this same student casually noodling with a rhythm we had learned the week before. It wasn’t perfect, but it was clearly recognizable. Something had stuck.

That moment sparked an idea. I decided to build an entire group activity around that rhythm. We’d all play it together three times, then take turns improvising solos while the group kept the beat. We called it The Universal Break. As we went around the circle, I watched the students begin to connect—with the rhythm, with themselves, and with each other.

One student threw themselves into the activity with full physical engagement, clearly enjoying the motion and freedom the framework allowed. Another seemed uncertain about how to improvise, needing a bit more structure to get started. A third struggled to maintain the tempo during their solo, needing encouragement to stay in sync with the group. Each of these moments offered a glimpse into where each student was in their musical journey.

Rather than pausing the activity to correct or explain, I looked for ways to guide in the moment. When my own turn came to solo, I used it as a teaching tool—introducing new rhythms through call and response, modeling dynamic shifts, and offering ideas that helped expand each student’s concept of what a solo could be. By doing so, I was able to shape the learning experience without breaking the flow.

What unfolded was more than just an exercise—it became a moment of connection. Everyone in the room was involved: listening, moving, reacting, and supporting each other. We created a space that allowed for risk-taking, discovery, and joy. I didn’t check my watch until much later, and when I did, I was stunned to see that 35 minutes had passed in what felt like an instant.

Ultimately, teaching music is rarely about perfect execution. It’s about engagement, creativity, and connection. A student who seems distracted may still be deeply absorbing the material. A single rhythm can spark an entire lesson plan almost instantaneously. When students are given space to explore and contribute, the classroom becomes a new living, breathing thing. That is what keeps me coming back, ready to listen, ready to teach, and ready to help the next group of musicians grow.