Each summer, hundreds of college-aged musicians dedicate countless hours—and their own money—to one pursuit: winning the drum corps world championship.
On the field, the 159 members of the Bluecoats Drum and Bugle Corps are poised to perform. Sixty-four of them stand on a fire-engine-red platform spanning the distance between the hash marks and the 40-yard lines, dressed in white jumpsuits with red stripes.
The color guard members are spread out across the field, from one 10-yard line to the other, each holding white mock rifles. They toss the rifles high into the air, catching them just as the horns play the first notes of a major chord. The sound is amplified by microphones and enhanced with digital effects, resonating for six seconds. The horn players strike the chord six more times as they move together, confined by the platform, with each chord echoing back more rapidly.
Then, the performers leave the platform and begin to move. The trumpets weave toward the front sideline, the drums finally join in, and the opening number—Boston’s “Foreplay,” a complex organ piece—is taking shape. The deep notes from the organist’s left hand are echoed through the tubas. This isn’t rigid; it’s full of energy. The group is in full swing, and the sound is loud, spreading across a 60-yard-wide formation. They hit that major chord three more times, giving the audience a chance to cheer.
This is modern drum corps—a competitive event for mostly college-aged students, though the groups aren’t affiliated with any schools. When the season is on, the corps members’ lives revolve around perfecting a single performance, pushing it beyond perfection through relentless practice. Rehearsals stretch up to 12 hours a day, and grueling tours consume their lives in July, all leading up to the world championship in Indianapolis.
