Occasionally, when Jenkins decides to stay put and deliver a vocal, he straps on an acoustic guitar. Otherwise it is an impediment to the way he races around the stage. Even without the extra instrument, the sound id remarkably plentiful from the trio of Hargreaves, Arion Salazar on bass, and Kevin Cadogan on electric guitar.

For his part, Brad balances those deep toms with plenty of crisp snare and clean cymbal work. He doesn't favor bottom-end resources more than top. This ensures that if something goes wrong in the mix there is no hole. Take, for example, the raw video footage of the band opening for the Rolling Stones in Seattle. Something, or somebody, had knocked the first tom mic' aside. Who knows, maybe it was Jenkins, constantly en route in the manner of headliner Mick Jagger. When Brad goes to that tom, it barely registers. Meanwhile, the mic' is still open and gated; when Brad hits the hi-hat a snare drum, the gate swallows up some hat - and some of the other cymbals, too.

Despite a distinct loss of hi-fi, the song ("Narcolepsy") holds its own. A few choruses later, it leaps out of slumber into a punk-laced refrain: 'There's a demon in my head!' The group breezes through the test only an opening act can appreciate: delivering a track every bit as convincing as the recording, under adverse circumstances. This, after all, is the heart of rock n' roll, and Brad Hargreaves is a prime exponent of the form, right?

Here it gets interesting. People who knew Hargreaves in his life before 3EB will tell of a shocking not sequiter. They remember a man who had groomed himself for a career outside the pop realm. He was packing his bags, ready to move east to a real jazz town. Brad admits the contradiction: "It was ironic because I was realy focusing on playing jazz in the Bay Area, and I was convinced that I would try to ger things together here, and then move to New York to see what happens. At the time, a friend of mine, who I only played jazz with in college, recommended me to the guitarist of Third Eye Blind, because they were looking for a drummer to play live shows. After playing five or ten shows it seemed to work out somehow.

The reason for the emphasis on live shows was that Michael Urbano had already recorded some respectable drum tracks with the group, but he was getting increasingly busy with Sheryl Crow and other projects. For a while his tenure over-lapped with Brad's, and both drummers cut tracks destined for an indie CD. In a stroke of luck, Elektra Records signed the band and commissioned new work for the self-titled debut recording. The band figured that nothing would be gained by recutting Urbano tracks, such as "Losing A Whole Year" and "Motorcycle Drive By."

Instant acclaim followed the single "Semi-Charmed Life," with its rollicking vocal chorus. Charmed life, indeed! Brad Hargreaves, barely in his mid-twenties, had leaped to success beyond his expectations. Fate had dealt him creative latitude rivaling that of his jazz peers. "I don't feel that it's totally mandatory that I play 2 and 4 all the time," Brad confesse. "The conventions of rock drumming are less important to me. On the outside, the band's music may appear simplistic, but if you listen carefully there are some interesting things going on. Because our songs are 'radio friendly,' I think there's a tendency to dismiss us as a pop band, but the critical listener will find more quite easily."

Brad takes us back down his crooked trail: "I'm from a place just north of San Francisco - Marin County, actoss the Golden Gate Bridge. I lived there until I was about twenty. I moved out of my house to go to junior college, and transferred to the University of California Berkeley. At that time, I moved to the Berkeley/Oakland area, and lived there for five years, studying history."

Hedging his bets at U Cal, Brad took music as a minor, absorbing requisite theory and piano lessons. But suddenly there came a realization: "I was getting an education playing four or five nights a week in the Bay Area - mostly jazz. There was no reason to go to school to study what I wanted to do, which was live performance."

Brad kept up with drum lessons, though. "I had studied privately starting from seventh or eight grade with one teacher," he recalls. "Then I ended up with the teacher who taught him, Chuck Brown. A lot of people in the Bay Area studied with Chuck. He's got a lot of cool ideas about minimalistic movements. Some of that doesn't apply to rock drumming, because you play with so much volume, but it's really good for developing a foundation."

Responding to an observation that he manages to maintain a relaxed grip despite those serious sound pressure levels, Brad replies, "It depends. I studied traditional grip with Chuck for four years. When it came to playing rock, it was apparent that to get the volume I wanted, I would have to switch to matched grip. But my matched grip was really undeveloped, at least in my left hand. I had to go about training it, and I kind of modified it. In the right hand there is more of a tension thing going on between the thumb and index finger. The left hand is sort of the Tony Williams grip, where the fulcrum's back in the hand. I definately was attuned to learning a form of proper technique - at least, the form that Chuck taught.

"I also studied with George March," Brad continues. "He has a book called Inner Drumming, talking about energy flow from limb to limb. When I studied with Chuck it was an intellectual approach to drums: with George, it was more of an emotional approach. It shifted the focus away from thinking about what I was doing."

In terms of influences, "Steve Gadd was one of the first drummers my first teacher told me about," says Brad. "I got Chick Corea's My Spanish Heart, and on one song there's this cool cowbell thing - on of Gadd's signatures. That record led me to John Coltrane, Miles and other people. Fluidity comes from playing jazz, which is very relaxed and subtle. All my favorite drummers play like that, including Steve Gadd, Elvin Jones, Roy Haynes, Jack DeJohnette, and Marvin 'Smitty' Smith, who I actually got to hang out with the other day."

Still, none of these stories advances a credible explanation for the power behind Hargreaves' backbeat. It doesn't add up unless...maybe it wasn't all jazz. Maybe if we were to rummage around in Hargreaves' closet, we might find a crate of rock records...

Okay, okay, he admits it! Brad likes Phil Rudd. He has a healthy respect for the way AC/DC's drummer works within simple frameworks. "Then it would be John Bonham. From the R&B side of things, the guy from the Ohio Players, 'Diamond', did some super killing drumming. Clyde Stubblefield on James Brown albums. Dennis Chambers on the P-Funk All Stars Live record. They fired thier percussionist, and he put the percussion on his left side and played both. There are so many horn hits: it's like playing big band jazz.

Before Third Eye Blind, Brad played on a number of sessions. He cautions that fans weaned on 3EB might not be ready for some of them: "They might be shocked, it's so different," he admits, describing the music on a couple of CDs available on the Web. "They were based in the history of jazz, but were also very modern, like Steve Coleman's stuff. There were two recordings with Vijay Iyer, Memorophilia and . Vijay toured with Steve Coleman. He's Indian and into very subtle rhythmical frameworks. Also Liberty Elman: His record is called Orthodoxy on Red Giant Recordes. The tracks I played on are with a quartet: guitar, horn or piano, bass, and drums. I'm playing a four-piece '70s Gretsch kit, with different cymbals. About 90% of it is in odd time, although I have a hard time saying that word. There's nothing odd about it! It's all about improvising and developing themes."

All this accounts for the seamlessness of those occasional 3EB excursions outside of common time. "With time signatures, it depends on how intricate it is," explains Brad. "If it's five or seven, it's natural. I'm not counting it. There's some sort of rhythmic basis that comes out of seven or five, and I lock onto that and improvise off the rhythm just like a soloist improvises. When you do it that way, it's a natural thing."

Brad says the majority ot the drum parts on the album were his call. An example of a modest but effective touch is the reversal of roles on "Semi-Charmed Life." "There's a breakdown section before the third verse," he explains. "I played 2 on the snare, then 4 on the bass drum."

Then there is that propensity to go to the large toms. Recording floor toms is difficult for two reasons. First, the mutiple overtones from large heads seem to "confuse" mic's. Second, the low frequencies often are lost in the mix. Not on "Jumper" though. "When we recorded the song, they wanted to go for a Ringo/Beatles sound," says Brad. "So I ended up using a vintage orange sparkle Ludwig kit instead of my usual D'Amico drums. To achieve that 'airy' sound, they wanted me to play really light on the drums. It didn't get down exactly as I wanted, but it was close. It was a 16" floor tom, and I was touching it, in the lightest possible way. It was muffled fairly heavily with Moon Gels, and there might have been toilet paper with tape, too. We recorded 'Jumper' in the middle of the soundstage at Skywalker Ranch, George Lucas's sound studio. It's the size of a gymnasium; you can set up a symphony and have the huge screen come down and do soundtracks. We put the drum-set in the middle of the studio. The other drum sounds were done in an isolation booth with the door open.

"At the end of 'Jumper.'" Brad continues, "they faded from close mic's to the overheads, then to the distant mic's. And sometimes they would put cheap mic's in plastic bags under water and have them on the left and right sides of the kit. You can hear it on the verses: these weird, reverb-y sounds in the background."

Hargreaves' ride sound is less aggressive than Michael Urbano's on the album. "I use K Zildjians," he says. "From what I've heard, Michael likes to use a really bright cymbal. And his is cool and sounds great. I've never been totally satisfied with ride sounds. I have a sound in my brain I'd like to achieve, but it's difficult when you're playing really loud drums. The kind of cymbal sound I like is a little more airy and has a little less attack. But the search for the perfect ride cymbal is never-ending."

On the anthemish "God Of Wine," a natural tendency would have been to plunder, à la Dave Grohl or Keith Moon. But instead of jumping on the building refrain, Brad exercises admirable restraint - or so it seems. "I don't conciously hold back," he says. "Some nights I hit harder, but I'm never holding back; I'm playing as loud as I can!

"On a bad night, I might feel tense, but I always strive to be relaxed. When you are, then you're playing the tempos right, and it's comfortable. I see myself on tape and I look relaxed, but I'm not even sure how it came about. Chuck Brown used to say that tension is the one thing that kills drummers; it builds and builds and builds, and then it causes injuries.

"There are different sounds related to the way you hold the sticks and how much pressure is in your hand when you hit the drum," Brad goes on. "If you're digging your arm into the drum, instead of focusing on releasing your hand, then the shock goes up your arm. I play rimshots on every backbeat and release the hand after each hit."

Hargreaves worked out his beats on the aforementioned D'Amico kit. Why would a man who could get any drum he desires choose a brand lodged in the shadows of mainstream manufacturing and marketing? "I just wanted to play what I wanted to play," Brad says flatly. "We had a big advance, and we could get whatever we wanted. I had played D'Amico drums at various studios around the Bay Area, and I just fell in love with them. Some custom drums are made to such exacting specifications that there is a lack of depth and a lack of soul. These drums maintain the character. You're hitting a piece of wood: I'm making a reference to a cave man! All top-of-the-line drums are really good, but then you get into the extra something that makes a drum exciting. Gene D'Amico is the guy who actually made my kit, and I like that. It's nice to get in early with a company.

"I have a 19x22 bass, a 9x12 rack tom, a 12x14 first floor, a 14x16 second floor - both suspended - and a 6½ x14 snare drum. I use a DW double pedal and DW hardware. I'm also using a Zildjian A Custom hats, a 17" Dark Crash on my left, and a 20" K ride cymbal. I was using an 18" A Custom on my right, but I'm now checking out an 18" or 19" K Dark Crash. Also, I have a 16" Oriental China.

I have all coated Ambassadors on top and clear Ambassadors on the bottom," Brad adds, "although the snare might be a clear Diplomat on the bottom. With these drums, they sound by far the best. And I use Zildjian Rock sticks."

Brad never fancied himself part of the pop scene. "I did want to be in a successful group," he clarifies. "I just didn't think it would be a rock band. As much as I like playing in this band, I would like to do my own thing. Besides jazz, I'm really interested in electronics, and hip-hop, and R&B. Keyboard music in the '80s turned me off of rock, and I went over to the R&B side. Combining drums with electronics is something that has been touched upon, but hasn't been dealt with in the way I want to do it. That's something that we'll do a lot more of on the next Third Eye Blind record."

For the key to Brad's ethic, turn to the 3EB track "Burning Man." "It comes directly out of Jack Kerouac's On The Road," says Brad. "It's about people who burn to live, who want to experience everything. It's the kind of thing that reflects itself in music, as well. Right now, our band is doing very well. Many people would kill to be in the position we're in, and yet we're totally unsatisfied. We're dying to get to the next level, to create more, and to make a better show. It's really just about reaching as many people as we can, being worthy of being listened to, and having something to say."