"CORSANO'S BAG STOCKS MIX AND MATCHED STICKS OF WOODS, CHEWED TO PIECES, WORN DOWN TO THEIR LAST BIT OF BORROWED SOLIDITY. HIS MALLETS LOOK AS THOUGH THEY'VE STRUCK CONCRETE, NOT CYMBALS AND DRUMHEADS. HIS TOOLS WHIRR AND BLUR AND WRAP AROUND RHYTHMS AS IF HE'S BEATING THEM OUT OF THE AIR"