By Billy Martin

I started playing the drum set when I was 11 years young, in 1974. Throughout the 44 years since, my perception of time and how we keep it has changed in radical ways. In my early years, I was often scolded for “rushing” or “dragging.” Rushing meant overspeeding the tempo, and dragging, the opposite.

But as I grew older and wiser, the concept of playing “in time” with others became more about relativity. If I was speeding up (or slowing down) with the other musicians, then we were in sync, and our time and perception of it became one and the same.

I am not a machine, of course, but I sometimes use machines to help me. Machines are capable of keeping time very well, but they do not listen or interact with what is happening. They just keep time. Using a computer has become an exciting tool for composing and performing. With my new experimental dance project Veve Mechaniqué, I use computer programs to stretch the time of various rhythmic patterns. I am getting extraordinary results. In a live performance I can move around in subtle ways while the computer keeps time for me.

This may sound cliché, but our perception of time reminds me of a rubber band. Our circumstances at any given moment can cause this perception to expand or to contract. Sometimes we count the seconds, and time seems to slow down. In the town where I live, there is a diner with a public clock. Below the clock it reads: “This clock will never be stolen … because the employees are always watching it.” Conversely, when we experience pleasure, time seems to fly away.

When we are looking back on events in history, it can seem like they happened not long ago. And when we anticipate something, it just can’t come soon enough.

Now, I choose to live—and to create—in the moment. It is not always easy or simple to live or work like this. But, when you get the hang of it, everything seems timeless. Time is now, it’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

I thrive in creative situations where improvisation is required. This is an example of being “in the moment.” I don’t look forward and I don’t look back. I try to not make any references to the past, and I don’t think about what I might want to play later on, because it is just too distracting.

I’ve learned that the best of what comes up, out, or through me, is timeless.