Daily Inspiration: Meet Brady Knippa - Voyage Austin

Hi Brady, thanks for sharing your story with us. To start, maybe you can tell our readers some of your backstory.
One unassuming day in 1999, my dad produced an unfamiliar VHS tape from the living room cabinet, threw it in the VCR, and sat with me on the living room floor as the machine whirred to life. Dave Weckl, my dad’s favorite drummer, appeared on screen seated behind an expansive 80s Yamaha drum kit, said a few words, and launched right into an intricate solo that would alter the course of my life forever. Hearing Dave perform was like seeing color for the first time; every snare crack and cymbal crash rattled something deep within me. On that day at the age of three, I knew I was destined to become a drummer just like my dad.

Soon I began to raid the kitchen of its pots and pans to create a drum set of my own. Months passed as I alternated between the living room and kitchen floors, watching the same drum solo and attempting to recreate it by ear. Though the noise from our kitchen probably resembled that of a construction site, my parents recognized the passion behind the noise and gifted me my first real kit on my fourth birthday – I was ecstatic.

Piano lessons started up a few years later – a requirement to be considered for the middle school percussion program. I learned how to practice efficiently and effectively, worked on rudiments and timing, and fell even deeper into the rabbit hole of the percussive arts. In high school, I was a member of various symphonic bands, orchestras, percussion ensembles, and the school marching band. Thanks to the tireless efforts of our band and percussion directors, I was improving every day and loving every minute of it. After several years in the orchestral world, the fundamental lack of drum set work became increasingly apparent. I longed to be behind the kit and was fortunate enough to run into some friends in a band without a drummer. We gigged in downtown Dallas primarily, in dingy bars for crowds of 40 or less, often on weeknights before classes the next morning. Those early gigging principals learned in high school laid the groundwork for something even greater to come in college.

As a freshman at the University of Texas, I met some fellow music students in a brass band also in need of a drummer. I took the audition, got the part, and over the following three years performed hundreds of shows at nearly every venue in Austin. Through the gig with Big Wy’s Brass Band, I learned how to set up and tear down a kit in record time, how to perform on little-to-no-sleep, how to play to the room, and possibly most important of all, how to network. One band led to another, then another, then another still, and after four years in Austin I was put in contact with Sloan Struble of Dayglow. I gave his music a listen and was instantly taken aback by its creativity, quality, and upbeat nature. We began rehearsing in a garage, played a few shows, and before long found ourselves on our first tour opening for the band Coin. Thanks to Sloan’s incredible talent as a musician and producer, the band’s popularity skyrocketed to previously unimaginable heights. To my parent’s initial surprise, I took the leap into the full-time world of music in 2019 and never looked back. Since that first Dayglow show in early 2019, we’ve had the opportunity to perform all over the world, surviving the pandemic to complete four successful tours, a host of festival gigs, and even a couple of late-night talk shows appearances. I never expected my passion for drumming to produce a fruitful full-time career in music, but I’ve come to realize every hour in the practice room, every late-night gig, every disappointing failure and triumphant success, has led to this moment – just the beginning of a wild expedition into the world of music.

Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
The pursuit of music – or any artistic venture for that matter – is destined to include the highest highs and lowest lows. I’ve been beyond blessed in my experiences over the years, but the road has had its fair share of potholes. As a newly minted music undergrad and burgeoning drum set artist in the summer of 2015, the opportunity arose to hit the road on my first tour. I didn’t know that particular band very well, and none of us had any significant gigging experience, but the prospect of a three weeks US tour was invigorating to say the least. Following three 12+ hour rehearsal days, we hit the road in a 2001 Chevy suburban bound for Atlanta. It didn’t take long to realize the promoter of the tour hadn’t actually promoted anything – the first few shows saw maybe five people in attendance max, and we made less than $20 a night between the three of us. With no money and no real clue of what was happening, we pushed on, sleeping in the Chevy and brushing our teeth in Mcdonald’s bathrooms. Barely 20 years old, it’s all fun and games until something goes seriously wrong, and sometime in mid-July, the day of reckoning came.

At 3am on our way to Orlando, our suburban struck another vehicle doing 85mph, careened off the highway, and flipped several times before coming to a halt in the dirt on its side. I was knocked unconscious and awoke a few minutes later, upside down, to the sight of broken glass, smoke, and my fellow bandmates climbing out from a shattered window. By some miracle, no one was seriously injured, but our vehicle and half the instruments were totaled. In a youthful act of defiance, we made the decision to continue the tour in another vehicle, until every credit card was maxed out and we were forced to head home early about a week later. Luckily a plight like that is rare, but not beyond the realm of possibility. In reality, that experience grew me immensely as a touring musician. The world of music is rarely lucrative or secure; sleepless nights, financial woes, and burnout often factor into the equation, but ask anyone and 9 times out of 10 they’ll tell you that every woe was worth it. A storm always precedes a rainbow, and struggle is but a single puzzle piece in the overall big picture.

Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?
Though it’s still incredibly hard to fathom, I’m proud to call myself a professional musician. At this point in time I’m primarily a live/touring drummer but engage in studio work from time to time. The studio time lends to significant growth, allowing the creative process to shine through writing and composition, the honing of different techniques, and experimentation with different sounds. Then, when it’s time to hit the road, I can use those studio skills in various live applications – on and on the cycle continues. In terms of specialties, I can thank my time in school as an orchestral musician. Drum set performers – myself included – can often forgo technique and finesse in pursuit of bombastic solos and big hits on stage. With eight years of Bach sonatas, timpani solos, and rudimental snare work under my belt, I feel my grasp on drumming as a whole has been greatly strengthened. In many ways, performing on stage with four other guys for a crowd of thousands is quite similar to the concert black, symphonic performances in a concert hall. Each individual is duty-bound to perform at 110% every night, and I’m quite thankful to be part of a well-oiled machine on and off the road. I’m proud not only of myself but of every musician that has ever put time into becoming the best version of themselves. I know so many good friends who have poured their heart and soul into this crazy, challenging world, and it’s an honor to work alongside them in this thing we all love so much.

Can you talk to us a bit about the role of luck?
Despite some immense challenges I’ve been faced with in life as a whole, I often consider myself to be the luckiest guy alive. Though hard work, talent, and grit all certainly play major roles in the outcome of each and every day, there are always aspects of life just beyond our grasp. I was lucky to run into Big Wy’s Brass Band early in my career, and unlucky to have COVID strike on day one of a sold-out tour with Dayglow. Wrecking the suburban on the side of a Florida highway was incredibly unfortunate, but every one of us emerged free from career-ending (or life-ending) injury. There’s a give and take to everything – it’s how we choose to react that ultimately determines the outcome of the scenario we’ve been presented with. Be grateful for the good and thoughtfully reflect on the bad, and you’ll emerge on the other side better than the day before.