Recently we bought my son a Martin guitar. Considered the Rolls Royce of guitars, Martin is celebrating its 175th anniversary this year. The factory is located in Nazareth, PA, somewhat off our beaten path, but we stopped for a tour on the way to Grammy’s. I wondered whether the factory’s location in this particular town had anything to do with the Scottish hard rock band of the same name, but decided probably not.

When we arrived and got out of the car, I was reminded of our arrival in Hershey, PA, only this time the air carried the aroma of rosewood instead of chocolate. We took the path of the giant guitar neck into the factory lobby, and a friendly receptionist greeted us with instructions on where to sign up for the tour. While waiting for it to start, we perused the museum, with its ancient-looking specimens, relics of company history and more modern models and testimonials, and listened to the guy playing in the lobby (factory employees perform on Fridays in the summer for visitors).

When it was time to begin our tour, we each got a little receiver and a pair of headphones (thoughtfully augmented with miniature cloth shower caps, I suspect, to minimize the spread of germs). Our guide, Roberta, spoke into a microphone so she could be heard through the headphones over the din of the factory machinery.

Bert, as her nametag said, surveyed our group of fifteen and asked, “Who owns a Martin?” One man and my son were the only ones, and she took great pains to remind Ben how very lucky he is. The tour took us through the manufacturing process – an entire month to make each guitar – including cutting the wood, inlaying Mother of Pearl and other embellishments, sanding, varnish and, of course, quality control. There are two QC people in each department who must bless every part of the process. If an imperfection is found, it either gets fixed or the guitar is trashed. Particularly interesting was a ventilation system in the sanding area which literally sucks the particles out of the area for bulk disposal later. This ensures no sawdust or other waste inadvertently lands on a guitar under construction.

As we stopped at each department, Bert explained what goes on there. Unfortunately, almost everyone was at lunch, so we couldn’t actually see them doing their jobs. During the course of her explanations of what each machine does, she took pride in pointing out which machines actually were designed by Martin employees. The other Martin owner in the group made the point that innovation in this case could lead to unemployment, for which Bert had no response.

It seems as if every factory tour I’ve ever taken has one person who is a total geek with regard to whatever the product in question is. Our requisite nerd came with his son, who seemed a little bored. Dad asked a million questions, some of which were rather obscure, and kept trying to get in front of me. The best part was when his son (apparently older than mine) was reprimanded for touching something. My child, who normally touches everything, was unrecognizably well behaved. Maybe he actually was listening when we talked about treating his Martin with care.

At the end of the tour, everyone got a souvenir that looks like an old record but is made out of spruce (I think it started life as a sound hole). However, all Ben was interested in was playing the guitars they had for just that purpose. Guitars favored by Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley and Paul McCartney were all fair game, and I began to fear we’d never get him to leave!

After the tour, we asked to see someone in Customer Service to talk about a squeaking noise Ben’s guitar made when he played it. A lovely man named Carmen came out, listened to Ben play and was blown away. “He plays better than I do,” he said, and I almost believed him. Carmen spent probably thirty minutes with us, and sent us home with a new set of strings. He thought perhaps a different type would work better for Ben, who plays pretty hard. He also started talking about raising the action – how far the strings are from the neck of the guitar – about which time my eyes began to glaze over. He recommended we see a luthier, someone who adjusts guitars, to have it set up and put on the new strings. We hope during this process to get a tutorial on how to replace the strings. The last time Ben broke a string, it took three of us an hour and about fifty-seven views of a how-to video on YouTube to replace it!

Not only is the tour completely worthwhile, the Nazareth Diner beats anything we’ve got in my area and rivals the best in New York.

Open Mic Night at The Big Kahuna (and a little P.S.)

My guitar-playing son once said, “I want to be like David Fagin and write my own songs.”  When I told him he should, he refused.

Fast forward a few months to just before our New England vacation.  Spouse discovers The Big Kahuna in Bridgton, ME, has an Open Mic Night on Thursdays, and there is no minimum age to perform.  However, no covers allowed:  Ben has to write his own song!

With his guitar teacher’s encouragement, he writes a song called, “Old Yankee Stadium,” about how dumb it is to tear down the historic stadium. 

We arrive in Maine on Saturday, thus beginning a record-setting period of rain.  The rental house is reached by a dirt road more than two miles long, which, in clear weather, is a challenge.  Now, during monsoon season, the many ruts and depressions in the road draw varying quantities of water.  Just to keep things interesting, it is impossible to tell if that little lake just ahead will be the nail in the coffin of our poor, tortured Accord hybrid.  What a week this has been in the life of that car…but I digress.

The fear that we wouldn’t be able to get to The Kahuna or, worse, back home, was palpable as we began our trek.  We’d phoned to make sure Open Mic Night was taking place as scheduled, but no one answered.  We grabbed a bite at Ricky’s Diner across the street, and at 7pm, the advertised start time, The Kahuna was still closed up tight.  We stood in the doorway to shield ourselves from the omnipresent rain, having decided to allow 15 minutes for someone to show before giving up.

Not long after, an affable hippie named Tom came to unlock the door, followed closely by Wayne, the sound guy.  They made us wait in the musty vestibule while they went upstairs to turn on the lights.  When we were allowed in, Tom started a list of everyone playing that night and explained that Steve was always first, because he was the first one there on The Kahuna’s first Open Mic Night ever.  Well, Tom, that may be, but in case you haven’t noticed, Steve isn’t here…and neither is Jonathan Sarty, the host, or anyone else, for that matter.

When Ben saw the stage, he was suitably impressed, but even better was the promise of appearing on YouTube.  “A dream come true” was how Ben characterized it.

After hearing our road story, Tom and Wayne took pity on us and commenced Open Mic Night early, just for us.  Ben was truly in his element the moment the lights came up, thoroughly enjoying the sound check.  He waited patiently as Tom set up the video camera, and began his song right on cue.

Unfortunately, he forgot a chord just after the line about Alex Rodriguez and Derek Jeter, and stopped dead in his tracks.  After some conversation about whether or not to start over, he just did, proceeding through the song perfectly.

Once his moment in the spotlight was over, he collected the CD Wayne burned for him and reluctantly allowed himself to be removed from the premises.  Somehow, we (including the car) made it back to the house intact.

The next night, following an absolutely beautiful day of plentiful sunshine, we ventured out to H.A. Cassidy’s restaurant for dinner.  As we arrived, I noticed Jonathan Sarty was performing.  Turns out he arrived at The Kahuna shortly after we left, and Tom told him all about Ben and his performance.  John was very sweet, and after meeting Ben, asked me if he’d like to play a couple of songs. Um, YEAH! But we didn’t have the guitar with us.  John said Ben could play his guitar, which turned out to be a Martin!

And so it was that Ben came to play “Please Please Me” by the Beatles and “Bad Moon Rising” by Creedence Clearwater Revival for the graying crowd at H.A. Cassidy’s.  They loved him, including one of the restaurant workers, who pronounced him “phenomenal”.  We asked Ben afterwards whether he had more fun last night or tonight…and the jury’s still out!

Hello all,

None of you remember me, surely, but I remember this board. I used to post here regularly about 4 years ago. I was about 14 then, although I don’t remember my old posting name.

I am writing this because I am now 18 and currently pursuing a degree in classical guitar and music composition at a major U.S. conservatory, and recognize that this would not have been possible without the contributions from many different people who helped me along the way. Family, friends, teachers, and… this forum.

This site contained the only guitar instructional material outside of a private lesson that I ever thought was helpful. Also, the people on the forums were very nice to me and also very encouraging. You have all had a role in my development as a player, and I therefore wish to thank every one of you for your help and guidance.

Although guitar will always be a big part of my life, you inspired me to make it my professional pursuit as well. Thank you and good luck!

With sincerest gratitude,

Now, Paul and I get emails, seemingly on a daily basis, thanking us for the Guitar Noise website or for a particular lesson or all the lessons in general. Not surprisingly, these emails are one of the “perks” of being a part of Guitar Noise. But this particular one, and the fact that it was addressed to the entire Guitar Noise community, got me to thinking about how people can connect to one another, especially in this day and age of almost-instant communication.

Tonight, I’m going to be playing in a show call “FODfest.” “FOD” is an acronym for “Friends of Danny.” “Danny” is Daniel Pearl the Wall Street Journal reported who was kidnapped and murdered in Pakistan in 2002. The show is a unique combination of concert, songwriters’ song-circle and jam session and there will probably be somewhere between twenty to twenty-five musicians participating. This evening’s performance will be the first of seventeen that will be happening all over the country. If you’d like to see the FODFest 2008 schedule, look right here.

I never met Daniel Pearl. My connection to FODFest is through Todd Mack, who played in a band with Danny while they were both living in Atlanta. Danny had moved to the area from Berkshire County in Massachusetts, where both Todd and I now live. While here, Danny worked at two of the local papers and also played music with many folks. He was a classically trained violinist who also played fiddle-style and mandolin and other instruments as well. I’m constantly meeting people who had either played with or heard Danny perform.

I met Todd back when I was writing The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Playing Bass Guitar, back in the winter of 2005-2006. It was at his Off The Beat-N-Track Studio that I recorded the audio CD that goes along with the book. We hit it off and occasionally played and performed together. In October of 2006, Todd invited me to the second FODfest, which was held at the studio. And I’ve been honored to have been asked back twice now.

Even though I never met Danny, I get to witness firsthand every day how his belief that music can bring people together and help them work through whatever differences they might have. The Guitar Noise website is certainly proof of his philosophy. We have people from over a hundred-and-sixty countries who visit here and help each other learn how to play guitar, to make music in their lives and to share their music with the world. Make no mistake, no community is perfect and trouble-free. How could one be? But, despite our disagreements, most of us are willing to communicate, to listen and to learn.

Seasoned musicians from all genres and all walks of life will tell you that listening is probably one of the most important skills a player can have, if not the most important skill.  Way too often, people communicate by saying something and then waiting for a pause in which they can again say something (usually a variation on the same thing said the first time). In true dialogue, it’s listening that provides the growth and momentum to a conversation. You hear what the other person says and then work with that. Even if you don’t agree with what the other person says, you can begin to understand why the other person thinks and feels the way he or she does. But if all one is interested in is one’s own side of the coin, then conversation is stilted and boring. No one learns anything and no one grows.

The parallels between conversation and music, particularly group performance, are markedly vivid. A group of relatively average players can sound stellar as a group if they learn to give each other space, to tailor the arrangements to the strengths of the individual members and be in constant communication with each other while playing. Conversely, a group of gifted individual players can sound downright chaotic if no one of the group is paying attention to anyone but his own playing. Playing in a group where everyone is one the same page and constantly communicating with one another will always transport the individual members to a higher plateau.

As I’m getting ready to get onstage tonight and play backup for two dozen musicians I’ve never met before, to play dobro or ukulele on songs that I’ve never heard before (and which the writers themselves may not be able to tell me the key it’s in!), I can’t help thinking that Daniel Pearl would find this show to be exciting and fun. As Todd says in his recent Guitar Noise Interview, it’s all about connecting with people and connecting people with one another through music. That’s what Danny was all about.

And I’d also like to think that, in their own individual way, this is pretty much the philosophy of every member of the Guitar Noise Community. Music, in its purest form, transcends individuals. The last thing I want to hear after playing any show, or simply playing with friends, is “you were great.” I want to hear “That was great” or “We were great!”  

I can’t help thinking, as I’m writing this, of a going away party we held for one of my friends in Chicago, very shortly before I moved from there myself. It was a backyard barbecue and there were all sorts of musicians there – the typical number of guitarists, a teenager on violin who’d never played in a group like this before, a percussion guy who primarily played washboard, an accordian player who also played in a Neil Diamond tribute trio (accordian, bassoon and some other outrageous instrument I can’t recall), and any number of singers and percussion makers.

We had a blast, playing songs we knew, playing songs we’d never tried before, getting to know one another and sharing music with each other, the other party guests and the neighbors. But the best part, to me anyway, was at the very end when we were winding down and cleaning up and the young man with the violin proclaimed for all the world to hear: “I’ve never had so much fun before in my life!”

I’d like to think Danny would have been proud.

Peace

For me, the goal of performing is to feel appreciated-to feel that other people are enjoying and benefiting from your music, and to build skills by getting time to perform (translation: play music, make mistakes, learn from your mistakes and see what makes people smile, clap and tap their feet) Performing in rest homes has met all of these goals and more.

First, anyone performing in this environment will, almost always, be highly appreciated. Not many people are lining up to headline the local convalescent home or senior center, so you can be a “star ” no matter what. The nursing and administrative staff in these homes tends to be appreciative as well.

Start by talking with the activities director of the facility. The activities director is a trained professional in charge of providing activities for the residents. In preparing this essay I surveyed almost twenty activities directors. In general, it is preferred to schedule about a month in advance. An optimal performance duration is from forty-five minutes to an hour. Single events can be scheduled or, if mutually agreeable, regular (i.e. monthly quarterly etc) events. I personally have found a monthly event to be a great success. Residents tend to look forward to you coming and you get to know people on a first name basis. It might be helpful to meet with the director before the first performance to scout out the room and communicate about details.

The equipment needed to perform can be as simple as an acoustic guitar, a capo, guitar picks and whatever printed material you need to perform. I usually arrange to have an armless chair to sit in and something to place the music on. Voice or instrument amps might enhance a performance but are not usually required.

What to expect? First, residents vary in their level of function. Many are very alert and like to sing and participate. Some have had strokes, Alzheimer’s disease or other debilitating conditions. This doesn’t mean that they cannot benefit from or enjoy music. There is actually a lot of research that has been done on the use of music in the rehabilitation of people with various emotional and neurological problems. Singing the Blues should prove that! Don’t forget that rest home residents are not all old people but also include some relatively younger people.

Playing in front of a mostly non-critical audience is a great way to become comfortable with performing. No waiting in line for an hour to play one or two songs at an “open mike night” This setting places less emphasis on feeling pressure to “perform perfectly” and more emphasis on giving a little bit of yourself to the audience. That, to me, touches on the true essence of doing music for others. Ruth, a lady at one rest home where I perform says, “You make us happy.” Cool!

Input from activities directors indicates that “residents like upbeat songs from the 30’s to the 60’s and that residents love to sing…” I have built up a repertoire of songs I like (Beatles, John Denver, Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, etc.). I mix these with “sing along songs” that as many people as possible know by heart such as I’ve Been Working On The Railroad, Michael, Row Your Boat Ashore, Daisy (also known as Bicycle Built For Two) and Yankee Doodle. After doing this a while you realize the songs that 75 to 80 years old adults know may be different than the ones you have memorized. People always like Happy Birthday if someone is celebrating or close to celebrating a birthday. More than occasionally people in the audience will ask “Do you know this or that song” and if I don’t then I say that I will learn it and sing it for them next time. Several songs I have added in this way are: Are You Lonesome Tonight? Please Release Me and God Bless America. I have different “sets” of songs that I rotate so that I don’t sing the same songs each month. To play for an hour, I need to have twenty-five to twenty eight songs in a set. I don’t have most of the material memorized, but instead use song sheets with chords.

Michelle has come to a number of my little rest home “concerts”. When I play the Beatles song Michelle (“…ma belle…”) she jokingly says, “Don’t sing that” But she smiles as I play while she is eating popcorn and visiting with her friends. Playing in several rest homes over the past five years has been a journey for me. It has been a “space” where I could learn what works and what doesn’t, while at the same time providing entertainment and “music therapy.” I am having some fun “Rocking the Rest Home.”

Now, as a variation on David Hodge’s famous disclaimer; this is just my personal experience. I certainly do not recommend hooking up with total strangers on the Internet. And I really encourage children to practice “safe surfing” and not to talk to anyone online that they don’t already know.

Having said all that, that’s where the Magic of Music comes in. As some of you may know, some years ago, a college buddy of mine asked me to write some articles for this online guitar college that he had been writing for. The site owner was looking for a different perspective on music, a take from The Other Side. OK, no problem. Well, maybe a little writer’s block now and again, but mostly no problem. I started exploring the website, in order to figure out the audience I would be writing for. One of the articles I read was on playing music with others, the theme that David is currently exploring with our readers. Entitled Music At Mary’s, it espoused the wonders of jamming with friends; how much fun it can be and how much you can learn from each other. I enjoyed the article greatly and couldn’t have agreed more with the author, Lee Budar-Danoff. I’ve learned that playing with other musicians allows you to develop different skills than playing alone. The added benefit is that the more you play (by yourself or with others), the better you get.

Since I felt so simpatico with the author, I was encouraged to get in touch with her. One thing led to another, and we decided to meet up at the Riverside Jam 2001 in Chicago. I love playing these big jams. The musicians are easy going, partly because a jam is less pressure than a performance. The audience is low key, as it consists of other musicians that have decided not to play that song, as well as friends and family. You play when you want, usually what you want, and the rest of the time you get to be an audience member and dance, or make new friendships and renew old ones. In this very supportive atmosphere, you also feel free to try songs that you may not know (music cheat sheets abound with chords and lyrics) or to learn different arrangements of familiar songs.

Lee and I got along like houses on fire. We admired each other’s guitars, taste in music and found we were even more alike in that our husbands are both bass players! A strong friendship was sparked by meeting (gasp!) through the Internet! Since that time, Lee and her husband have had babies, and at our last Riverside Jam, she brought with her a young lady, Jess, as a mother’s helper. Jess also happened to play the guitar and, when she wasn’t responsible for the toddlers in her care, participated with all the rest of us in playing. She got along famously with the other younger musicians, including my daughter, Jacqui. Both girls joined the performance night of the jam, held at a local club. Jess played her guitar and Jacqui, her saxophone. They supported each other in their music playing, as they were both among the junior-most members at the jam.

As a consequence of this event, Jacqui flew off to spend part of her winter vacation with Jess. For someone who has spent most of her kids’ Internet careers warning about the dangers of meeting strangers online, this was a remarkable feat… I kidded with my daughter about not taking up with strangers met online, while we reveled in the friendships that music and GN have brought to us.

Similarly, through GN and the Riverside Jams, I have met other musicians that I have truly enjoyed getting to know. Playing with them has been an added bonus when we have been able to get together. The congenial atmosphere is summed up best by Wes Inman, a GN member and moderator who was a new participant to the Riverside Jam in ‘04: “My first impression was that everyone knew each other so well. It was more like a family reunion. That really impressed me. Also, everyone was so helpful. Everyone was offering to carry gear in.” Ironically, many of us were just meeting for the first time, or had just met the day before. The bond built by love of music and the enjoyment of playing with others created a family from these diverse folks.

Along a similar vein, I wrote a piece called Not Just Another Pretty Face a few years back. This article explored playing in a band. As I re-read my notes, I saw many similarities between the positive aspects of jamming and being in a band. The sense of community created, the creativity sparked and the joy in the creation of your “own” sound, even when playing covers, is sublime. I love reading all the stories of readers who have been inspired to get out and play, either with a small group from work, church or their neighborhood. After all, that’s what this site is all about; inspiring and encouraging people to get out and play their guitar. So, as Mom says, go on out and play nicely with others!

Guitar Noise has always been a website where anyone with access to the Internet can learn about playing the guitar, bass (or banjo!), about music theory and a host of other things. But while you’re learning and playing, we want to also encourage you to get out and play music with other people as well. If you get a thrill simply playing your guitar, then just imagine what you’ll feel when you’re making music with your friends and sharing that music with others.

We’ll be posting stories, thoughts and tips about “Playing Well With Others” throughout 2005 and we encourage you to share your experiences and ideas with all our readers. You can send them to me at dhodgeguitar@aol.com and I will get them up online.

Sharing music is what Guitar Noise is all about and what better way to do so than to help give a little encouragement to someone?

And, just as a side note, unless someone tells me otherwise, I’ll simply post up first names or initials of the contributors.

Peace

David

I was talking to David a couple of days ago when he asked if I would write something about playing guitar with others.

Well sure, why not?

It turns out that it’s easier said than done.

Why is that? What makes this a difficult topic to write about?

I pondered this question for a while. Blank paper stared at me. I couldn’t take the first step. I didn’t want to expose myself to ridicule. I didn’t want the rest of the Guitar Noise community to think I was a weirdo, or insecure, or too sensitive. I didn’t want to write something I really felt uncomfortable sharing. I’m sure that you already know all of the stuff I would write anyway. I just don’t know enough to make it worth reading. I’ve really just got nothing to offer to you.

Wait a minute! Those are the very same reasons I gave myself for not playing with others.

1. “Blank paper stared at me.” Lack of inertia is the hardest thing to overcome. Make a commitment to yourself to find a playing partner or a “porch players” group by a certain date. Mark it on your calendar or day timer. That’s how I started writing this.
2. “I couldn’t take the first step.” Closely related to Number 1 above. Start small if you feel uncomfortable in groups. Find one friend or neighbor and just jam. Find a group if you just want to lurk and feel uncomfortable one on one. Have an opening line prepared, like “I’ve been playing for six months, a year, whatever, and I was looking for someone to jam with.” That way you can let the other person know your relative skill level without degrading yourself.
3. “I didn’t want to expose myself to ridicule.” Everybody fears this. But keep in mind jamming isn’t a contest. You don’t need to bring something to dazzle, just be honest about your ability. You can play open chords all evening long and if someone asks you to solo, just say “I’ll pass for now.”
4. “I didn’t want the rest of the Guitar Noise community to think I was a weirdo, or insecure, or too sensitive.” Again, this is closely related to the previous reason for procrastination, but when you are in a room with a bunch of people who have come to jam, you are amongst like-minded individuals. These people know how you feel. Once you start, you’ll get a great sense of belonging to a very supportive group and your fears will melt away.
5. “I didn’t want to write something I really felt uncomfortable sharing.” I’m not an expert on the psyche of the budding guitarist. I’m not a professional writer. I’m not an expert on group dynamics. I’m not a professional guitar player. But I know how to jam. By the way, nobody at a jam wants a flashy know-it-all, show-off, egomaniacal guitarist anyway. The first time anyone plays with a group of strangers they feel uncomfortable. You are no exception.
6. “I’m sure that you already know all of the stuff I would write anyway.” Hey look, if the guitarists you jam with already know all the stuff you would play anyway, that is fantastic. Think of all the material you could play.
7. “I just don’t know enough to make it worth reading.” You may think you don’t know enough to play with others, but I guarantee you do. If you can play open chords and strum you’ve got enough. What you don’t know, someone will be happy to show you.
8. “I’ve really got nothing to offer to you.” You’d be surprised at how much you can teach. You’d be surprised at how much others can learn from you. I have a student who is an absolute beginner and I’ve gotten so much better at the basics of thumb position, palm muting, percussive strokes, chord changes, finger position by teaching her. Get it? By teaching her, she taught me. Everybody has something to offer. Besides, company and support are always welcome.

At the end of last summer, I traveled up to see David in the Berkshires. It was time for the annual Riverside Jam, which is usually always a blast and this past August was no exception. The “main event” on Saturday night was all twenty-five musicians playing at the Berkshire Blues Café. We started in the late afternoon and played sets for the guests and Café patrons until closing time. I played and sang until I was wiped out. We had guitarists and other musicians come in from across the country – Guitar Noise denizens, some students, college buddies, friends, spouses, just a wonderful mix of people.

But the main Riverside Jam event wasn’t the best part of the weekend for me. It was the next night when about ten of us (those who decided to leave on Monday instead of Sunday), players of all ages, sizes, styles and genders, sat around David’s fireplace and jammed. I didn’t know half of the songs, but someone would yell out the chords or hand me a sheet with the chords and lyrics and away we’d go. If I had a problem with some part of the song, someone would lean over and say, “Try it like this.”

If I wanted to sit one out and just sing, no problem. If I wanted to just shake a maraca for a while, while my fingers recovered, again no problem. No expectations, no minimum skill requirement, no egos, just an amazing time of sharing a common love, making music. Go ahead and think I’m a weirdo, but it was as close to an Across the Universe moment as I have ever been.

You owe it to yourself to get out and share with other guitarists, so that they can share with you. Go and play well with others.

Hi David!

I’m a big fan of your websites and also your newsletter. It’s awesome!

Ok, trying to go straight to the point my history is the following:

I always played in bands, most of them “cover bands,” which, here in Mexico, is the most affordable way to make mo-money! And the relationship with most of my music partners was a job-like relation. One day in a rehearsal of one of those bands, I knew a bass player who was very friendly. When the rehearsal finished we talked about the music that we enjoy and things like this. After that, we talked about do a jam or something just to have fun the next day.

The next day the musical chemistry was immediately revealed… We thought in a very similar way when we’re playing, it was awesome the things that both of us were delivering to our ears.

From that day we had a lot of these type of jams, and, after the first one, we always recorded every single note that we played. Right now my friend is playing in a professional rock group very famous here in Mexico. I couldn’t do it in the way he did, due to a lot of reasons (I got married and have children now and enjoy a lifestyle different than that of my friend who is still single), BUT I’m very proud that a LOT of the jams and riffs recorded in that days, are now important parts of songs that I hear on the radio. Our jam ideas turned into things like a chorus of one song, the bridge of another and things like that.

That day I made a very good friendship with my buddy, whom I knew because the fun of jamming. You might start out playing with somebody who you don’t know very well, but strong, life-long friendships can grow out of the music. This particular experience was, in my life, one of the greatest things that ever happened.

I really think that the most of your musical growing can be done if you play/practice with somebody else, rather than playing alone, or even just playing in a band without taking the time to interact with your band-mates.

I hope you enjoy my little history and I hope it can be useful to others to encourage themselves to find the way to play/practice with somebody else, just for the fun to do it.

Peace!

Hi David!

Thanks for all the work you do getting the newsletter out each week – it’s always the first thing I read right after the coffee and Sunday Paper is done!

Regarding getting musicians together: I work at a large company’s corporate headquarters with about twelve hundred people working locally. I posted a free little ad in our on-line “Marketplace,” a sort of classified ads for employees. The ad simply asked for replies from folks interested in getting together once a month for some “open-mike” style jamming.

I received fifteen replies! I arranged to use some meeting space at work for a couple of hours, once a month. I got a real kick out of the diversity of talents, influences, skills, etc. that everyone brought. Coolest of all was jammin’ with a mailroom guy, a couple of directors, a vice president, and a few of us “regular middle” guys!

The routine was basically to play a couple of regular songs we worked out, then we’d go around the circle taking turns either playing a song of choice or pointing to another musician to play a specific song of the choosers wish. And everyone would join in!

We had a great time for about six months, but we have been on hiatus since the Florida Hurricanes in August-September (the state of Florida, as well as other places, was hard hit by numerous hurricanes between August and October of 2004 – DH). We do think that it’s high time to get the Music Club cranked up again!

A special experience, but first a little background: Each Christmas I make a CD for a handful of friends with some of my favorite songs. One of the recipients is my neighbor who is the pastor of a small church. I’ve played a handful of times at his church when they’ve been short on musicians. That they ask me to play is evidence of how short they can get, since I’ve not been playing very long. Anyway, the experience is nice, though we’re not exactly playing my favorite songs. But two weeks ago on my birthday, my neighbor asked me to bring my guitar over to his house after the Sunday service because the church pianist wanted to look at it. I wasn’t sure why, but I took it over.

When I got there, the keyboardist, lead guitarist, vocalists and my neighbor (who plays bass as well as being a pastor!) were all there. He had worked out the chords and lyrics to a half dozen of the songs off my Christmas CD, including songs by Lucinda Williams, Gordon Lightfoot, the Jayhawks, Old 97s, etc. He had passed the CD around to everyone so they could get familiar with them. We then proceeded to have a couple of beers and play “my” songs.

It was so cool to play songs I like and have them come alive. Plus, we got instant feedback from the family and friends who were listening. When we play at church, you don’t get applause. This was a first for me. We had so much fun that we’re going to do it regularly and plan to have some small “concerts” in our cul-de-sac this summer. I can’t wait!

I can attest that playing with others really helps two ways – it improves your playing AND it lets you know that yes, you can make music. What more could you want?

Being the incredibly sentimental person I am, I thought it might be nice to share our readers’ stories about the joy that playing guitar and making music have brought them this past year.

This week, we’re going to start posting these stories. As you’ll see, they run the gamut from being personal to cosmic.

And I don’t mind starting things off.Even though this happened late last year, it pretty much set the tone for 2002. Late last fall, I was madly dashing around at work – “madly” in both senses of the word: close to insane (at least for me) and very angry; I was supposed to already have left to meet some friends and go to a concert.

But work was there to do; deadlines, which had been there for months, were finally realities and minutes away. So I plodded away and waited for the people who were finally doing their jobs, so that I could finish mine and be on my way.

I was just in one of those moods where nothing mattered and all I wanted to do was to be gone. Truthfully, I was beginning to wonder if going to a concert was such a good idea since I was in such an angry state.

While waiting for my coworkers, I went to check my email. And, as has been the case since I started writing for Guitar Noise, I found I had mail to read. But instead of someone asking me how to tune a half step lower or what I thought about a particular make of guitar or even a declaration of “hey, great lesson,” I received a short note from a man in Massachusetts. He was offering his thanks.

He had written his first song – a love song for his wife.

And, he had sung it for her.

I know I can get tedious by writing how I feel about what music can do to people and for people. But when I read his note, everything that I’d been mad about became incredibly petty.

It’s hard for me to explain to people why I put so much time and effort into Guitar Noise. Perhaps it’s because I’m not the best person to explain it. So let me just let some of you do the talking now.

I am writing in response to your request for stories about the joy of playing guitar. I recently picked up the guitar again after years of not playing. I only knew how to play open chords and a few cool songs that I learned and memorized like Dust in the Wind.

I started taking lessons again three months ago and you can’t imagine how my playing has evolved and soared. I owe it all to my teacher. I am very fortunate to have the honor and privilege of working with a well known, amazing musician and a really nice person, Al Pitrelli. The experience has been positive and wonderful. And in just a short time, I am able to play things that I never thought I would be able to play so soon. I am also able to think logically about music and make discoveries on my own while practicing. Al provides an environment that is highly motivating, encouraging, pressure-free and fun.Al rules! Practice is a fulfilling challenge instead of an unwelcome chore.

After having taught me barre chords, scales and some neat tricks, suddenly I’m rocking, playing the blues, soloing and many other amazing things. My face lights up like 20 Christmas trees during that powerful and uplifting moment when I “get” something and am able to play it after struggling with it. The day that I learned bending you would have thought I won the lottery because I was that excited. It’s positively exhilarating! Because of these lessons, my passion for playing the guitar has been renewed.

I am also a member of a place in NYC called “The Studio,” which is a great place to be to learn and grow. It’s a supportive, creative and nurturing environment, where they hold jams on the weekends. I now have the confidence to walk into these jam rooms with some really rad guitar dudes and hold my own thanks to all that Al has taught me. The Studio also helped me find my rock voice, a voice which I never heard come out of me before. I was always timid about singing but now I’m singing my heart out, playing the guitar and having the time of my life! I’d say there is a lot of joy going on there.

By the way, I LOVE your website and newsletters. I find the information you provide very valuable.

I am continuing to enjoy your excellent site. I’ve been a guitarist for twenty years now. It would be impossible for me to overstate the impact music has had on my life. It has enriched my life enormously. I’ve played in a few bands, made albums and traveled. I haven’t achieved major success, but have had real fun.

I’m currently working as a community music tutor, facilitating music workshops for people with learning disabilities. The buzz it gives me seeing them really enjoying music is magic. I believe that music is for everyone. What other art form touches the soul in such a powerful and immediate way?

The “Joy of Guitar” to me, as a middle-aged, working class-guy, is probably not your teenager’s rock ‘n’ roll star dream. To me it is being able to play those wonderful classic songs that I can so fondly remember my uncles playing around the campfires or at the local dances when I was a child. I discovered joy when a note or chord I played first sounded like it was supposed to! When I’m playing my guitar I’m like a little kid again, enjoying the learning and the creation of something I’m doing. A big thanks to all you guys and gals at Guitar Noise for helping me. I’m loving every bit of it.

Here are some of my thoughts concerning the joy of music. I could hardly stop myself once I started to write:

“The Joy of Music”

Music is powerful. I love music. It picks me up when I’m down, it calms me down when I’m stressed, it encourages me and inspires me in my thinking, in my walk with the Lord. It is able to change my mindset. It reminds me of God’s Word, Power, and Promises. Praise God for music! It totally enhances my life.

I am easily influenced by music, always have been. I catch tunes others are whistling. Melodies get stuck in my head regularly (including the music from the ice-cream truck). A billboard ad is enough to trigger a familiar commercial tune from days gone by (i.e. Rice-A-Roni). I carry songs I hear in the morning all day long; subconsciously I pick up tunes throughout the course of the day.

I think it’s important to purposely fill our hearts, minds, and spirits with music that edifies. I think the music in Church is as important as the Sermon. I believe we can choose what our minds dwell on. If my thinking is negative, I can feed those thoughts or redirect them by planting a specific song in my head. My whole mood changes when I listen to or play a favorite piece.

During a holiday season made stressful with work, plans, racing, and responsibilities, a friend sent me a tape that featured the song Shout To The Lord by Darlene Zschech. The whole piece is wonderful, but the melody of the chorus is especially gripping and is as powerful as the words:

Shout to the Lord, all the earth, let us sing,
Power and majesty, praise to the King;
Mountains bow down and the seas will roar
At the sound of Your Name.
I sing for joy at the work of Your hands,
Forever I’ll love you, forever I’ll stand;
Nothing compares to the promise I have in you!

This became my “Christmas Carol” of choice that December, and has been a favorite ever since.

My current favorite is a song Richie Furay of Poco sings on his In My Father’s House CD. I am not a morning person, and never have been, but Wake Up My Soul, co-written with Scott Sellen, is a tune I have been singing every day on the way to work. This tune has spiritual significance. By the time I get to work, I feel alive. It starts out like this:

Wake up my soul, wake up early in the day,
Wake up my hands and the instrument I plan,
Wake up my voice, let the world hear me say,
You are worshiped and exalted here today…

Music has an influence on my entire being. It can make me feel happy, sad, agitated, peaceful, loving, motivated, energetic and more. Music plays on my heartstrings and can somehow give expression to and even transform my thoughts. What we listen to can have a positive or negative effect on our lives. I like to choose what I listen to so my mind is set on things above.

In my opinion, music is almost as important as the air we breathe. Without music my life would be in black and white!

Thanks for listening David! I hope you carry a great melody in your heart all day long!

The first concerns making movies. I learned that making movies on location means you can’t eat when you are hungry, can’t sleep when you are tired and when you need to go to the toilet … well.

The second concerns making movies in China. If you are planning to interview people in China don’t expect everyone to be able to speak Chinese. This was perhaps our biggest surprise and obstacle.

The third concerns music. Often it is not so obvious, but what David Hodge says in On Gifts and Giving is true: “Music is a medium that really works when it is shared.” This became apparent when our multi-lingual and multi-national film crew of four found itself in a remote part of the world where there was no common language for communication.

The People

The region we visited was northwest China’s Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region. In English Xinjiang literally means “New Territories” or “New Frontier”. While the region covers 1/6 of the worlds most populated country only 15 million people inhabit it. That is roughly half the population of Canada. The local population is comprised mostly of China’s major ethnic groups the Kazaks, Kygyz, Daur, Tajik, Uzbeks, Mongols, Sibo, Russian and Uyghur (pronounced wee-gur).

Our film was concerned mostly with the Muslim Uyghur people. Quite different from Han Chinese, Uyghurs have their own language, culture, customs and music. They originally arrived in Xinjiang from the grasslands of Mongolia and converted to Islam from Buddhism sometime before the 8th century. Originally descended from the Turks, the Uyghur spoken and written language still closely resembles Turkish today. Their traditions, customs and music are also very similar

The Ili Valley

Throughout Xinjiang are some of the key staging posts of the ancient Silk Road. Not far from the border with Kazakstan is the Ili Valley, a quiet place geographically isolated from the rest of China by the the formidable Tianshan mountains. Most people are here are Muslim and few speak China’s official language. This part of the world receives very few visitors. In fact, this particular area of China was not officially open to foreigners at the time we visited. That does not mean, however, that the local people do not welcome outsiders.

One gets the impression that the Uyghurs living here survive much the same way as they have for centuries. In their small farming communities people work the land that has been passed down to them from generations before.

The Gift

Our movie is about the lives of Xinjiang people today. Staying in Uyghur homes while making a movie about their lives turned out to be a special gift. While we were in Ili we lived very closely with the local people. We stayed in their homes and ate their food. During the day we went out on the farms with people. We were invited to the neighbor’s homes and even went to a wedding. Communication relied on means other than language. No one could speak English and only a few could speak a bit of Chinese. We played with the children and made games out of them teaching us their language. We wanted to learn as much as we could in the little time we had.

At the end of each day everyone would gather after dinner to talk. After we had wrapped up shooting for the day we would turn the camera around. Using a little TV screen that pops out of the side of the camera we could show them everything we had recorded that day. As most homes were without electricity let alone TVs this was the first time people could see themselves on camera. Not only were they delighted to see their daily lives and habits captured on tape, but also they got a chance to see how we viewed them. They saw what they looked like to the outside world. We also spent a lot of time teaching people we met how to use our camera. It was a great experience to turn the camera over to them so they could film their family and friends and later watch the results.

Everyone in our film crew was also a musician. We took special interest in local music everywhere we went. We tried to record as many live musical performances as possible. In addition to a video camera we also had an MD player with us. We recorded a great deal of local songs performed by local musicians. Most of them were farmers or laborers who were more than happy to perform for us. Capturing them on tape It was better than recording any of the professional musicians we met.

The most enchanting moments always came after the performances. When we had finished recording we would immediately give a set of headphones to the performer and let them listen. It was the first time they had ever heard themselves sing and play. They were delighted at what they heard. It was not the ingenuity of the technology we brought, or the complexity of such small machines that awed them. Their eyes shone when they heard their own voices and instruments for the first time. They like what they were hearing.

Our good friend Moidun, a farmer from the Ili Valley, played many songs for us in the apple orchard behind his house. Moidun’s instrument is a two string duntar. It is a simple yet elegant instrument with both strings tuned a fifth apart and tuned to match his voice. The local songs he sang for us gave us the true flavor of the Ili Valley. When he heard himself on the MD recorder the first time he laughed, and immediately passed the headphones to his friend. “Hey. That’s me,” I am sure is what he said. “I sound really good, don’t I?”

When it was time to leave this quiet valley parting was difficult. We had been there four days already and no one would accept money for all the trouble our presence had caused. We ate and slept for free, and people had even taken days off work to show us around. In a short time we had become good friends with all the people who welcomed us. There were invitations to stay for a few more days, and pleadings to eat at least one more meal before we left. In the end we were extended the warmest invitation imaginable to return anytime. Whether it is a year from now or ten, they will be waiting for our return someday.

Now in the part of the world where I live the weather is starting to get cold. All indications are that it is going to be a long, cold winter. It is comforting to know that somewhere in one of the world’s most remote and isolated corners I have made friends and they are waiting for my return.

This was originally going to be an observation of emotion in music, but evolved into explaining my favorite aspect of playing, and my main reason for playing. I can remember why I chose the guitar as my instrument to master (or at least try to master!). When I was in the 6th grade, my mom told me I had to do an extra-curricular activity. I chose music. I decided to play the clarinet but by the end of the year I just didn’t feel like it was the instrument for me. The next year I was watching a classical song being performed on a local TV channel, and one main point popped into my head: (Remember, I was only in the 7th grade.) Playing classical instruments meant that you didn’t write music. Only the composer did that.

But why didn’t I choose the bass, or maybe the drums? In my view, with drum playing, you just banged a couple of things and made a rhythmic movement. As for bass, you were only playing a lot of low notes (Sorry, Dan!) Guitar was the only thing in the nuclear band (guitar, bass, and drums) that soared through and made its impression on your mind. When I heard Jimi Hendrix’s Little Wing, I experienced what emotion in music really was. As the years progressed, I formed one of many philosophies: that music is made with emotion, played with emotion, and appreciated with emotion.

The Basics

So how do I explain exactly what emotion is in music? For the most part, we tend to think that a majority of emotional music is played with emotion. But instead, it is made with emotion. Intensity plays a major role in playing with emotion. Webster’s dictionary defines intensity as an “extreme degree of strength, force, energy, or feeling.” To make a scientific point, this means to vary the volume from quiet to loud. But this is not just a matter of turning up the volume knob on your amp. Intensity is how hard you pluck the strings, how much effort you put into bending the strings and also how much effort you put into all the other techniques.

Also, timing and speed play major roles in creating emotions through music. Tempo often dictates the differences among a plethora of feelings. A slow song in a minor key can induce gloomy, romantic, or other emotions while a fast song in a major key can induce upbeat, energizing and other motivating emotions.

But apart from all the features of music that almost anyone can relate to, there is another feature to deal with: individual interpretation. Emotion is incredibly interpretive. People grow up differently, live in different cultures, and have different events happen to them in their lives. While we all, thanks to globalization, have more shared or common experiences with people from all over the world than ever before, we still also have to be reminded that individual experiences will always be the strongest triggers for interpretation of emotion.

For example, let’s say a Japanese man and an American man are listening to the same song. Even though they might agree that the melody is melancholy, that a particular minor chord is “sad” or “dark” or one of many other descriptive words, each has a highly personal sense of what is sad to them as individuals. Our societies interact with each other, and in our own society, we communicate with the particular group we’re in. This leads us to the point that we share and feel the same things in some situations, even though we still have a personal rather than a universal interpretation.

Now, I might have just confused the hell out of you, but let me clarify with some distinct examples. Let us look at the song Every Breath You Take by Sting. Let us say me, the metal head, my friend, the acoustic folk guitarist type, and you were listening to our opinions and feelings about the song. I express my feeling that the song is “gleeful” and it contains the melody of some major progression. Most of my sad songs are in minor. And my friend finds it quite depressing, saying, “It seems like a man is trying to express his pains of loss.” You’ve just witnessed that my interpretation was based upon the harmony of the song and his was based upon what it may sound like in real life.

But how does this relate to the styles we play in, and the environment around us? Well, since I’m a metal head, my opinion was based upon the made with emotion concept. Since my friend is a folk guitarist, his was based on the played with emotion concept. Now, suppose we somehow agree that the song is “dark,” and then we compare it to Stevie Wonder’s cover of it. His version, if you haven’t heard it, is almost a total opposite in terms of style and interpretation. It’s an awful lot like Stevie’s Sir Duke — a fast tempo and a lot of horns. There would be no doubt that, when we compared these two versions, we’d definitely say Stevie’s version is a “happy” one. But is it the same song? What are the differences between the two? Well, among other things, the singer’s voice, the tempo, and the different instruments have affected the song’s shape dramatically.

Perception is the reason for interpretation. Perception is what renders or “bends” things differently in our eyes, ears, mouth, nose, skin, and every other sensory organ I didn’t include. Since we live in different places and have different things happen to us, perception is changed and edited subconsciously. We can take the sense of touch as an example. If you and I touched a rug, we would both agree it was “fuzzy,” but I may have a different response than you. This is similar to perceiving music. We may agree on some things, like the overall shape of the song, while we differ on the details.

Almost all societies have languages that can affect its people emotionally and deeply. For music, this is all the more true. What one may call a romantic love song with an odd ending, another can call a sad tale. We must rely on the fact that people have different views on things, and those views are vast and infinite.

Music Appreciation (with Emotion)

For this next concept I will mention an event that happened recently. I was at a Christmas party back in January. (Don’t you love how people plan!). I was quite bored from the lack of things to do except eat. I pulled out my guitar, started playing, and it led to striking up a conversation with a choir teacher. I mentioned my new article, “Playing with Emotion” to him. One of the interesting things he said, which I’ll quote exactly, was, “Well, it’s more like actually taking emotion out of music rather than infusing it with it. It seems to me that the only two things that don’t have emotion are the drained-out pop music and the completely atonal music.” And I highly agree with him.

But how do I listen and appreciate music with the element of emotion? Shouldn’t we already be feeling it? Shouldn’t the artist already have infused some portion of emotion into the song so that automatically it will pop out before we hear it? First, we should clear out all preconceived ideas. You may have heard people say that music, dance, or other non-verbal form of expression is the “universal language.” If we boil down this idea, we get interpretation. So, all in all, interpretation is the universal language. This leads to the taking of emotion my choir friend talked about.

Now, as I already said, each person sees the details differently. So, when we listen to a song, we must start nitpicking specific portions of melodies, lyrics (meanings and tone), the guitar’s tone, the way everything is arranged, and all the other stuff that doesn’t need to be mentioned. If we just listened to music normally, we would retrieve the “overall” look to it. But as musicians, we must look deeper for our inspiration. The reason we appreciate with emotion is for our enhancement and for an extra muse.

I have suggested many times to people looking for inspiration to sit down and concentrate on songs you wish to emulate. If you focus strongly enough, your mind will start retrieving small bits and pieces that you personally enjoy, and next time you begin to write a piece, this subconscious element will start weaseling its way into your style. As for me, I will tend to play whatever I’m listening to at that time, or what I’ve listened to for long periods. I’ll play this way for most of the rest of that period, or until I find something else that I get into.

Our experiences form our perception. Our perception creates our interpretation. Our interpretation affects our writing and playing. Our playing and writing affect the emotion in the song, and the process begins again for the next listener.

We will continue talking about the emotions in lyrics and singing, but not until another time! If you have any questions, please contact me directly at jeder@earthlink.net.

Rock on, everyone!

I know that I am sometimes perceived as a serious dude, talking about Principles and other not-so-fun topics, but when you know what Fun is, then you will see why even serious, or thought inducing, weighty matters can be Fun. I want to talk about this subject because it is vital to making progress as a guitarist. In fact, you cannot MAKE any progress as a guitarist, unless you know how to have Fun. We “play” the guitar. You cannot “play” if you don’t know how to have fun. It’s true that “practice” sometimes seems like “work”, but you will see that work is not the opposite of play, or the opposite of fun. Work can, and should, be Fun.

Now, Fun is a funny thing. For some people, going out dancing and drinking all night is fun. For others, that would be torture, but sitting quietly and reading a book on philosophy is Fun. For some people, jamming on the electric guitar for hours is fun, for others, sitting with a metronome for an hour of disciplined practice is Fun (and yes, the same person may find each of these things to be Fun at different times). For some people, having to solve difficult problems requiring great thought is Fun, and for another, it is nothing but a headache. So, what is going on here?

The fact is that anything can be Fun for some person or the other. However, the particular things that we find to be Fun say everything about who we are as people, and what our level of personal development is. However, there is one common denominator that is always present when a person says “this is fun”. That common denominator is “creative enjoyment”. Fun is creative enjoyment. Einstein working out the theory of relativity, or Michael Jordan shooting a basket; both are having Fun. Both are “creatively enjoying”. As long as this quality is present, ANYTHING can be fun. Without this quality, NOTHING is fun.

What is “creative enjoyment”? Well, “creative” is almost self-explanatory. It is basically bringing something new into the world. It could be a dinner, an idea, a blanket, a building, whatever. Whatever is being created, it involves bringing something “out” of yourself, and giving it some kind of form on the outside.

The universal human urge to be creative stems from the one characteristic that always accompanies a creative act: a pleasurable energy sensation in the inner being. The person who knows how to have Fun is the person who knows how to be good to themselves, how to give themselves pleasure, how to make themselves happy.

Everyone is inherently creative. All children are naturally creative. However, creativity carries with it a certain “natural aggressiveness”, and “natural assertiveness. To be creative is to affirm and assert oneself, to use one’s power. Many children have this natural assertiveness conditioned out of them as they mature, and so they cannot find their creative powers when they have become adults. They also cannot find their ability to have Fun. In fact, I have met many adults who actually believe that adults are not supposed to have Fun! When I am teaching such a person, I have to try to re-connect them with their lost ability to have Fun. Sometimes I can, and sometimes I can’t. Some people will not allow it; giving themselves pleasure, and having Fun, makes them feel guilty.

And enjoyment? That is a very interesting word. “En-Joy”. According to the dictionary, “en” means “to put into”. Now, this is a very key understanding. People usually think that things are enjoyable in and of themselves, as if “joy” positively radiates from various things, and we merely have to bask in the “joy” that shines out of them like sunlight. A new car, a million dollars: wow, what happiness, what joy! And yet, we often read of millionaires with lots of money and fleets of cars, who kill themselves after falling deeply into despair and misery for one reason or another. So, obviously, there is no “joy” emanating out of any of these exalted “things”.

When we en-joy something, it is because of what we are putting INTO it, not what we are getting OUT of it. “It” has nothing to give us, until we give “it”, us! What we put into it is the Joy that is already inside of us! Well, obviously, you must already HAVE this Joy inside of you before you can put it into something. That Joy is the native Joy of simply being alive, simply existing, along with everything else. We would all do well to check up on our personal “Joy Quotient”. If it is low, or missing entirely, we should find out where it went. We won’t find it gone to anywhere outside of us, only buried, perhaps smothered, deep within.

Someone who has nothing they enjoy, simply is empty inside. The reasons why this happens would require other essays, but understand that an artist MUST have an inner fullness that is brought out, and combined with “the world” in a creative way, and VOILA, art appears. Music is written and played and sung, because someone has the capacity for “creative enjoyment”, for FUN.

As we go from child to adult, the particular things we find to be Fun will change, and be added to. However, the intensity of that Fun, and the ability to have it, should never diminish. Unfortunately, it almost always does. There is no sadder sight to my eyes than the disconsolate child, moping and moaning “I’m bored, there’s nothing to do”. This poor child is already old, the spark has left, the inner fullness has turned to emptiness, and that emptiness is projected outward, so that the world, full of so much beauty and amazement, looks empty.

No, the opposite of Fun is not work, it is boredom, which is “apathy for existence”.

It can truly be said that the passage from childhood to adulthood, when properly traversed, is characterized by the ability to transform Fun into Work. The only difference between Fun and Work is that Fun is the creative enjoyment of an activity which has no goal other than the activity itself, and Work is activity that has a predetermined goal (Intention). That is why Work can be Fun, because Work is simply Fun with an added dimension. Work, like Fun, can be a form of creative enjoyment; it simply has a goal also. This is the difference between practicing and playing. Practicing is Work (Fun + Intention, or the goal to learn and improve), Playing is just plain Fun (we play because we want to play, it feels good). Fun has no structure imposed upon it from outside, Work has an imposed structure, that is why it is more “adult”.

The properly developed adult should feel both a need for Fun and a need for Work. For myself, I am switching between the two all the time. Even sitting practicing, I may do some technical exercise for 15 minutes, with intense focus and concentration, and then, I will feel the great urge to just PLAY something and have Fun. Which I do. Sometimes, I just feel the need to play for half an hour. Sometimes, I feel the need to Work for an hour. One feeds into, and leads into, the other.

There are two types of students: one needs to learn how to Work, and the other needs to learn how to have Fun. The first is more common. Most people have never learned true Work. Most people’s relationship to Work began as that most distasteful intrusion upon our personal time and energy, when, as children we encountered that thing called “homework”. Yes, homework, another word for “the demand to focus our inner resources upon something to which we have no connection, and no desire for connection, but we do so under threat of some type of punishment from all the Big People”. Wow, what a wonderful way to discover how to “en-joy” life! What a wonderful way to get a good attitude about Work!

So, many people I meet need to be trained to put out the level of energy and focus required to learn the guitar as it should be learned. They simply have never encountered something which made this demand on ALL their physical, mental, and emotional resources. You can fake your homework. You can’t fake your guitar practice, and you sure can’t fake your guitar playing!

However, I will occasionally get the type of student who is happy to practice exercises with the metronome all day, focusing on those fingers for hours all day, every day. However, they never pick up the guitar to just play and have Fun! How sad, how tragic! That is not how we get to be guitar players or musicians. Musicians specialize in having Fun. We are Fun Masters. I have to tell these people ” I am ordering you, as part of your practice, to just pick up the guitar, play it, and have Fun! Remember, have Fun, that’s an order!”

Often, beginners on guitar delay having Fun, putting it off until some time in the distant future when they deserve it. This is not good. Fun, and music making should come into the picture as soon as possible. Anyone just learning to play should have two goals in mind: one, making sure the technical foundation being laid is correct, and strong so that continuous growth is possible, and two, making some MUSIC as soon as possible, something, anything that that turns you on, that gets your emotional juices flowing, whether it is Bach or Rock.

Yes, anything worth doing should be worth having Fun while doing it. The United States Marines live by a Principle, their motto, “Semper Fi”, which means “always faithful”. Here at Guitar Principles, I have told everyone involved in the day to day workings of things (and “not-workings, such as computers, printers, etc.!) to keep our Motto in mind. It is the Principle we operate on here, our first Principle of Business, Work, and Life: Semper Fun!

Copyright Jamie Andreas, Guitar Principles.

The following snippets are items that I have come to enjoy when playing or listening to music:

• “Tutti” riffs, where as many instruments as possible play the same riff, either the same notes, or in tracking harmony. Stevie Wonder’s Superstition is a great example of this, with the bass tracking along. More recently, the riff in the Monkee’s tune I’m a Believer is performed that way in the movie Shrek.
• The “machine gun” snare in Elton John’s Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting.
• Dynamic changes in a song. The wilder the better. From Shout (Otis Day and the Nights) to Bring Me Some Water (Melissa Etheridge), dynamics can really spice up a song.
• David’s attempts to get me to laugh and lose my place. I get a real sense of accomplishment if I can finish the song without succumbing to giggles. David “wins” if I drop a note.
• Playing with a full brass section. I finally got to do this last Spring, and it was better than I had imagined. Listening to them punch out the chorus riff in Get Ready, with the saxes building tension and the trumpet pealing out on top was just fantastic.
• Santana’s Europa. If there is a more sensual song out there, I don’t know it.
• Harmonies. I still remember a time in 1984 when 6 of us were sitting in our living room singing folk-rock songs, and 4 voices, a flute, 2 guitars, and my bass all hit the perfectly balanced note, resulting in a “chord” that no one wanted to end. The song is supposed to have another reprise chorus, but we stopped on that sustained magic. Now if I could just remember the name of the song!
• Clever lyrics. From Billy Joel to Aerosmith to Melissa Etheridge, a well-turned phrase is lots of fun. The Kinks probably wrote the best of all, including Lola, Victoria, and Superman.
• Rewriting lyrics. David and Laura are very good at re-writing lyrics. David’s rewrite of the Beatles’ Don’t Let Me Down is hilarious: “Nobody ever loves me like I love me…” Trust me, it works for the entire song!
• Playing with Laura. We don’t get to do it often, but sometimes we hit that “magical moment” in a song, and it’s wonderful.
• Playing with our kids and their friends. They are so trusting and eager to learn, and they are very good musicians as well.
• Learning a new song, and coming up with the “perfect” bass line, or at least one that fits well.
• Dragging an old song out of the closet after many years. David, Laura and I recently played Fleetwood Mac’s Rhiannon for the first time in almost 20 years, and we were all a bit surprised to discover we remembered it.
• Finding a new “tweak” to the bass line for a song that I’ve played for years. I recently found one for David’s Winter, and it was good.
• Playing fretless. My mentor was right: “Fretless and Free!”. I don’t think I can ever play Moondance fretted again.
• Playing an old song a new way. I’ve played several mid-tempo rock songs as reggae, but my favorite was playing Tush as a torch ballad – 1/4 speed.
• Jamming. From major productions like the Riverside Jams to casual gatherings in the living room, I love to play with others. Of course this could be due to the fact that I’m a bass player and I can’t sing…

In the spirit of the season, think about your own “favorite things” and enjoy the music hear, and the music you make. Feel free to post some of your own bits of joy on the forums.

Get out there and play!

One day when I have absolutely nothing better to do, I would like to sit and ponder why it seems that certain questions seem to come in waves. For no apparent reason, seventy to eighty percent of the questions over a given time period will relate to a specific topic. Take this week’s column as an example. Since maybe mid-December, I have gotten a lot of emails asking about “the best way to learn.” Is it having a teacher? A certain book? A website that’s miles ahead of another website?

While those of you who’ve been loyal readers will know that my philosophy is usually “learn whatever you can from whatever source you are able to get your hands on,” there is, without doubt, more and more information available to the guitarist with each passing day. I, myself, am even dabbling in the idea of writing a book for the beginning guitarist (“dabbling” is the wrong word – it will get written. Published, though, is another matter…) to add to this eternally growing pile.

But exactly how you, the average beginning guitarist (or returning, advancing, whatever your situation may be), manages to sort through all of this “pile” may seem such an impossible task that you may just give up before you start. And I really wouldn’t blame you. What I’d like to do with you today is to look at many of your guitar instruction possibilities and to help you get a handle on what may or may not work for you. And just so that today’s column will not be totally paradox free, I will also show you how, if you are of the right frame of mind, can get all of it to work for you.

Think about this: What, exactly, does the term “self-taught” mean? Anyone, including me, who tells you that he or she is a self-taught guitarist is living a bit of a delusion. In all fairness, this is not intentional – we simply do not know how to better explain how we learned the instrument. But it is very safe to say that our learning how to play the guitar (or about music, for that matter) was not the individual accomplishment that “self-taught” literally describes, that is one without any outside source at all. Someone or something taught us how to tune the thing, how putting notes together in certain ways produced chords, all sorts of things like that.

You see, “self-taught” is usually short hand for “I learned without the formal use of a teacher, but I had a lot of help. From books, from friends, (and these days) from the internet. From watching and listening and then being able to put two and two together myself.” So if you only learn one thing from today, let it be this: Everyone got help of some kind in order to get to whatever level of playing ability he or she currently enjoys. And in order to reach whatever that next stage of development may be, more help is going to be needed.

What You Know And What You Need To Know

If you’ve read any of my previous columns, you’ll know what I’m going to say next. Before you can get anywhere, it’s usually a good idea to have an idea, any idea no matter how vague, as to where you want to go. This advice is the same whether you are a pure beginner or whether you have been playing for decades and want to up the ante a little bit.

And you also have to have a really good idea as to where you currently are. What do you already know? Do you have any previous musical background? Have you learned another instrument, even if it was clarinet waaaaaaayyyy back in the third grade? Can you read music? If not, would you like to be able to? What sort of music do you listen to? Why do you want to play the guitar? What kinds of music would you like to be able to play on the guitar? Do you have more interest in learning how to play on your own or do you want to be able to sit in with other musicians as well? Are you more concerned with your own enjoyment or do you want to make a career out of this (and these things are not mutually exclusive)? Which guitarists’ styles/sounds/songs most interest you? If you could play any one song or solo right here and now what would that be?

Before I agree to take on a new student, I insist that we talk over many of these questions. I truly don’t expect my prospective pupil to have a lot of answers, but I do hope that he or she has a few clues.

Please understand that these questions are not meant to be intimidating or to show you huge holes in your thought processes or anything like that. They are to get you thinking.

More than anything else, how you decide to proceed from this point is going to be a matter of your own personality. If you are first able to be honest with yourself about what you really want to do, then you should be able to start to take those steps that will get you closer to where you want to be.

And with so many available means of obtaining information, you’re bound to run into two distinct dangers: being overwhelmed or being paralyzed. Either you go scurrying around from one source to the next and never end up actually doing or learning anything or else you are spending so much time analyzing what you want to do that, again, you wind up not doing anything. So yeah, I guess you could also add that you could become paralyzed because you’ve been overwhelmed.

One last thing that you really have to realize is that this will be a series of both steps and leaps. Some people pick up some things quickly while others do not. And what exact things those are also vary from person to person. If you go into learning the guitar in full blown “all-American-everything-is-a-competition” mode, then you might as well hang it up now. You will not be happy. There will always be someone better than you are. Often much much much much better. If that sort of thing bugs you, then in all likelihood you will have a very difficult time enjoying either music or the actual process of learning. You may think that is a bit strong, but believe me, it is true.

Take A Good Look Around You

Seriously, I do mean that. If you are reading this column in the first place that means that you are on this website. You are at Guitar Noise at www.guitarnoise.com, right? Therefore, you are also one of the few people on this planet who is well enough off to have computer access. Oh, I know you might not consider yourself that way, but if you are capable of placing yourself outside of the center of the universe for even the briefest moment, you should have no trouble at all seeing this.

But, in all fairness, as students we do tend to focus pretty much on our own needs and desires. You’ll even note that all of the questions that I asked earlier were all pretty self involved. Yes, I hate to tell you, but this is another paradox and one that you do have to come to grips with. Teaching yourself actually requires you surrendering yourself to the mercy of the rest of the world until you are able to get your bearings, until you know enough to be able to stand upon your own two feet.

Paul and I have recently done a minor, yet important upgrade to these guitar column pages. If you go to the index, you will now find a Master List which breaks down each and every article that I have written by subject matter. The whole purpose of this is to give you a place to start. Some kind of steps that you can take. And if you search around this site, you will find all sorts of help – anything from beginners’ chord charts to complex jazz theory. But you have to be the one who initiates the search. And, again, as long as you have even the faintest idea of what to look for, there’s so much here to help you.

But again, you see, we come to that point where you have to have a clue. If you are indeed a pure beginner (albeit one who does have a guitar), then the first thing you’ll want to do is know how to tune it. We have a page for that. Learning where the notes are on a guitar? That’s here. too. Chords? Piece of cake. Selection of lessons and/or songs with which to start? Guess what? That’s all on this website. And more than that, you’ll also find links to all sorts of other websites offering lessons and advice and virtually anything that the guitarist could possibly want.

But you do have to look for it. Or write to me and I will look it up in the search engine (that’s how I find it!) and send you back the appropriate @ddress. All I am saying is that if you have a bit of patience and are not one who is easily overwhelmed by sorting through information, then the internet will certainly give you a lot of good material to get you started on your way.

But it does have it’s problems. The main one being that even though it gives the impression of being an interactive media, that is truly not the case. There will be lag time between questions and answers. There will be site crashes and audio files, when they do exist, may be incompatible with your computer or just not work for some reason or other.

More importantly, you will have to become smart about your choices very quickly. What does that mean? Well, think about it. Anyone with access to a computer can write on the internet. And think about what it is like when you want some advice and you go ‘round and ask everybody. Is it all good? Do you take everything to heart? I don’t know about you, but I have read some things online (not just concerning guitars or music theory) that have made me laugh so hard at their inaccuracies that I would cry. As good a tool as the internet is, it is vital that you back up your learning with some other source.

See Hear

My first guitar teacher was a book, specifically The Songs of Paul Simon. It wasn’t even a “guitar” book because way back then (shortly after we switched from stone to paper), music books were pretty much all meant to be piano books with guitar chord diagrams thrown in for good measure (no pun intended). Once I learned how to form the chords I could play them in the appropriate places in the course of a song.

Now I had already learned to read music and knew enough about theory to figure out how to transpose (playing a song in Eb, for instance, in the key of D instead – much easier, take my word for it). The one thing the book couldn’t teach me was some of the playing tricks and techniques that Paul Simon used when he played. So while I could play the song, I certainly did not sound like he did on the records (big plastic round things we used to use to listen to music), but again, I have never been concerned about copying any player note by note.

Books nowadays are as numerous and as diverse as websites. You want to learn the blues? I could go to Amazon.com or sheetmusicplus.com and find fifty of them without working up a sweat. Or a video. Or a book that had a CD or cassette in order to give me audio confirmation of what I was reading.

How do I know where to start? Which one is going to work for me?

Now please understand, I don’t mean for this to sound as vague or as silly as it’s going to sound: I don’t know and it doesn’t really matter much which one I pick first because any and all of them will teach me something.

Again, think about this. All beginners books are going to teach the same things – what the notes are, where to find them on the guitar, how to form chords, maybe throw in a song or two that they either wrote themselves or is part of the public domain (avoiding copyright costs, you see). All scales books are going to contain scales and, if you’re lucky, maybe an explanation or two as to how to figure out a scale yourself. Books of “Great Rock Riffs” will be just that. “Eric Clapton for Guitarists” will be very much a book of Eric Clapton’s solos tabbed out for the guitarist.

Say you wanted to buy a car. Or a guitar for that matter. Or a box of breakfast cereal. They are all essentially the same (four wheels and an engine, a block of wood with six strings, sugar and grain or grains). Which one you pick and buy is usually more a matter of your own desires than of the object itself.

I have shelves full of music books. This is how I got them (discounting any that were given as gifts): I walked into a music store and briefly looked through them. If what I saw interested me enough, then I bought it. If, upon getting it home and going through it, I found that I had bought something a bit beyond my capabilities, then I was delighted because then I would be indeed learning something. Notice that I said hard and not simple. I have never bought a book that was too simple because it’s pretty easy to see when I’m looking through it whether or not I already know the material. What was important was whether or not I got a taste of the writer’s itinerary. This is easily done by checking the table of contents or by looking at the lessons/exercises at various points in the book.

I do not own one book that has not taught me something. The only two downsides to any book, once again, are that you (a) do have to make some choices and to make the most of those choices and (b) you are again involved in a one sided conversation. There is plenty of giving and taking but it is all one way.

Some books contain CDs. Sometimes I think this is precisely why they (the CDs) were invented in the first place. Some people find them indispensable and some find them to be a hindrance. In general, and this is merely my opinion, I think that they tend to be more helpful for people on either end of the spectrum, and not for long for the majority of beginners. Intermediate and advanced guitarists will probably enjoy those CDs that are mixed so that you can basically create your own solos over a prearranged backing track.

Videos, like CDs, are usually limited in both appeal and usefulness. More often than not, they can only focus on a specific small area of a specific genre and that’s great if that is the only thing in which you happen to be interested.

But this does not mean in any way that they won’t do you any world of good. Sometimes you simply hit it off with a particular source. If someone hands you a video, CD or book, you should never turn it down. If you pick up one idea or one technique that was not already part of your repertoire, then it was certainly a worthwhile investment of your time.

Teachers

Human beings come in more varieties than do books, CDs and videos. And, just to make things even more interesting, they are capable of being different every moment of every day (imagine a book having new chapters (or arranged in a new order) each time you opened the cover!). In addition to the knowledge they possess, teachers, like books, will have styles and individual manners of presenting that knowledge to their students.

Over on the Guitar Forum, there was an interesting discussion concerning whether or not guitar teachers were “certified.” You owe it to yourself to read the question and the answers from Jimmy Hudson and Dan Lasley:

Q: Could someone let me know if there is a certification for guitar instructors, and if not how would you go about finding a qualified instructor?

A (Jimmy Hudson): As far as guitar teacher certification, no they do not exist, personally I think they should under federal law because there are a lot of people teaching guitar that probably should not be. Now there is a national music teacher certification and each individual state has a teacher certification, however most guitar teachers are not members. A lot of it is because of cost, and honestly the only reason why you would want teacher certification is so you can teach in schools. The best way to find quality teachers is interviewing them, ask them if they have a music degree, if they teach full time, if they at least studied at a college. I have found that jazz and classical teachers are usually the best to learn from. You can also check musicstaff.com, and have a list of teachers in your area and be able to read their resume. If they are serious teachers, that means they have put in some serious time learning and they are still learning. I learn something new everyday. Sometimes they don’t even have to have a degree – they might have the equivalent in work and or learning experiences. For instance, say John Doe does not have a degree, but he studied under Allan Holdsworth for ten years, that would be a knowledgeable teacher. If you do sign up with someone and the first question they ask is what song do you want to learn, that should be a serious red flag. Studying music is not about learning a whole bunch of songs. It is about learning the language of music so you can not only teach yourself songs, but also write your own songs in a way that makes sense.

A (Dan Lasley): In addition to Jimmy’s excellent points, I would suggest that references are good. Ask for permission to talk to a couple of the teacher’s students to get a feel for the teacher’s style and attitude. We’ve been lucky with our local private music school. The owner has an excellent perspective, and he has several teachers to choose form, so he can match your goals with a teachers skills and approach. If you have such a school near you, it might be worth checking out. Also, they tend to be a little cheaper per hour, cuz you go to them.

Quite a lot to keep in mind, huh? Well, let me also add my two cents worth to this discussion. And “discussion” is the key word here. You have to be able to enjoy a dialog with your teacher. Anyone can talk a good game but it is important that both teacher and student alike have to be able to listen.

This may sound funny, but your guitar teacher does not have to be the best player or the smartest theorist (otherwise there would only be one or two teachers in the world, right?). The important thing is that he or she is able to challenge and to motivate you. As the two of you journey along the paths of music, you have to trust your teacher to choose the routes according to your abilities, to point out the dangers and wonders along the way.

One common thread among all these: the good ones – teachers, books, websites, videos and CDs – will stay with you all your life. You will hear their influence each and every time you pick up the guitar.

Another great idea for the neophyte is to take a session or two of group beginner’s lessons. Many places, such as community colleges or adult learning centers or even music stores offer beginners lessons. Usually they run once a week for three to ten weeks (six seems to be the average) and you tend to get a good grasp of the very basics – chords, hand position, posture, strumming. With a good grasp of this knowledge it is then possible to get an idea as to where and how you want to progress. Since these classes are done in (relatively) small groups, It’s also a great way to meet and network with other people that you might have a chance to play with someday.

Learning By Doing

If I look back at all of the stuff that I’ve learned about the guitar, it might be safe to use the following generalization: my theory came from books and my technique came from people. This is not entirely true, but it is pretty close.

My playing skills improved each and every time I met and played with another musician; I usually learned at least one thing from just about every guitarist I’ve had the pleasure of jamming with.

But as much as I’d like to think that this is everyone’s experience, I know that it isn’t the case. You have to be in a receptive frame of mind in order to learn and, far too often, people come to play with the attitude of a hired gun – I’m going to show you my best stuff, hope that it’s enough and then walk back out. The thing is, even when you find yourself with someone of this nature, you can still do a lot of learning. Simply being able to watch someone else’s hand on the neck of the guitar or to listen to the strumming patterns and techniques he or she uses can prove invaluable. Using your eyes as well as your ears can help solve some of the guitar’s mysteries.

Integration and The Importance Of Tunnel Vision

If there is any one thing a “self-taught” guitarist has to have, it is a sense of how to make sense out of all of this. How does one look out over all this craziness and figure out how to play the guitar?

The first and most essential discipline is to develop a focus. You cannot learn everything at once, so it is up to you to narrow things down to a manageable level. If you are just starting out, then the things to work on are the very basics – chords, general theory, strumming. From there you can work on learning more chords (and also different chord voicings), finger-picking, maybe a walking bass line or two.

These steps will work regardless of your level of expertise. Last fall, for example, I bought a hollow-body electric guitar and decided that it was high time that I stopped being afraid of playing jazz. Having made this decision, I went out to several of my usual music store haunts and, after two weeks of thumbing through various books, tapes, CDs and videos, I bought three. The first is a beginner’s guide to jazz (full of chords and scales), then there’s an intermediate book of riffs (which for some reason are called “licks” in jazz), and finally a book/CD of standard jazz solos. The solos are written out in the book as lessons (in both notation and TAB) and the CD is mixed so that the solo is in one channel and the “accompaniment” is in the other. I flip from one source to the other seeing how it all fits together. In a perfect world, my next step would be to sign on with a teacher. Maybe by the summer…

And two other things that I do in order to learn: I go out to the jazz clubs and pay a lot of attention to what the guitarist is doing and I ask all sorts of questions of my friends that play jazz guitar. None of them live close enough to play with but, boy, the next time one is in town, look out!

The bottom line is that, with so many choices, literally at your fingertips, you have to take responsibility for where you go and what you do. There really are no wrong choices since you can always drop a book, CD or even a teacher and take up with another. Get all the info you can, gather all the advice you can from all the sources at your disposal.

As always, please feel free to write in with any questions, comments, concerns or topics you’d like to see covered in future columns. You can either drop off a note at the Guitar Forums or email me directly at dhodgeguitar@aol.com.

Until next week…

Peace

Believe it or not, those are the very words I used to open my first e-letter to Paul Hackett. I had been a visitor to Guitar Noise on several occasions and, I’m certain like most of you, found it to be an incredible place to explore. One day, upon logging on, I noticed the word “jobs” listed on the bottom of the home page. Intrigued, I clicked on the icon and found myself reading a “help wanted” ad. Paul wanted to add a “columnist,” a title that seemed specific and yet vague enough to intrigue me. I spent my lunch hour dashing him off a note. Surely he’d already had a zillion responses from much better qualified people… I can’t tell you how excited and anxious I became waiting for his reply, even though I had already (no pun intended) written off any chances of actually getting this spot.

But all of you already know that this was not the case.

Just a week or so ago, Paul was kind enough to point out to me that this upcoming Sunday, November 12, 2000, will mark my first year as writer of these Guitar Columns for Guitar Noise. This is absolutely amazing to me (and undoubtedly to Paul, as well!).

My original plan was to write one or two columns a month. I figured that should be reasonable. After all, I did hold down a regular job (9 to 5 on a good day! My usual hours are 6:30 or 7 to 5 or 6! Often including 4 to 7 hours on Saturdays as the situation demanded…) and I was also teaching in my “spare time.” But I also thought that I had better start off strong to let people know that I was going to be something they (and Paul) could count on. So I started out writing weekly columns, figuring I could ease into bi-weekly columns once everyone knew I was indeed going to stick around.

November 12, 2000 my first piece Breaking Out Of The Box went online. “Everything begins somewhere,” I wrote. I hadn’t a clue as to what was, indeed, beginning. I was writing my articles during my lunches at work, mostly because I was comfortable with the word processing software and because I could only email my stuff to Paul from my office anyway – not having Internet access at home.

And then the emails started. My very first one came from a young man in London and that was a thrill to realize that there were people from all over the world reading my articles. Okay, for all I knew there were all my friends (who don’t bother to write me since they can just tell me things in person…) and Paul (who had to read the articles since he was editing them) and this one guy from London. I made it a point right then and there to answer all my emails myself, and, whenever possible, within twenty-four hours of receiving them. Obviously longer if I got any emails over the weekend because I might not be at work to access them.

“Write about anything you want,” Paul told me. “No schedules, no assignments, no deadlines.” And I wrote about anything. I took to reading the forum two or three times a day to see if there were subjects that people wanted discussed. Theory. I could do that. Open and alternate tunings. Sure, I could do that, too. While I was writing my first column I thought that it might be a good idea to come up with a short list of topics that would be worth examining and my “short” list numbered thirty or so items! It’s interesting (for me, anyway) to see that I still haven’t gotten around to some of them.

Despite the “no deadline” clause I continued to write a weekly column, mostly because I had become (am) hooked on writing and, more importantly, responding to the various and sundry comments, suggestions and questions that continually arose. There have been times when I’ve actually written in an email a better explanation on an aspect of theory than I did in the original column! On those occasions, I have tried to go back over some of the material with this new approach. And will continue to do so, I might add.

And now I sit at my computer on a Sunday night thinking, “Has it only been a year? Where has the time gone?” And that gets me to thinking about everything else that has gone on as a direct result of my writing. I know that sometimes I can get on these “tangents” which, for better or worse, can get much more philosophical than instructional. But if you’ve been reading me for any length of time then you know that this is part of the package.

Something I find myself repeating over and over and over again on these pages is my belief in the power of music. And in the greater power of sharing the joy and beauty and pure life that music gives all of us. I’ve often been asked, in person and via email, why I spend my time writing for Guitar Noise or teaching in my spare time. But usually I’m only asked once. Those people I answer in person seem to be able to see their answers in my eyes. And even though I don’t feel that I always have the right words at my disposal to adequately express what I feel, I still seem to be able to get myself understood, even if it takes three or four tries!

I have spent the weekend rereading the email correspondences that I’ve received since day one. It is quite amazing. And I feel it necessary to take a moment out from the “normal” type of column that I might be writing (“101 Uses for a Dominant 7th Chord (But Only on Tuesdays!)”) to tell each and everyone of you something:

Thank you.

I’m certain I’ve said this before, too, but it also bears repeating: music (or anything) cannot exist in a vacuum. As much as any guitarist, artist, songwriter, or keeper of the Guitar Columns page might be tempted to think otherwise, it is our “audience” that will ultimately define both ourselves and our work.

I want to thank you for the time that each of you takes to come and visit the site and to look through everything that Guitar Noise has to offer you. I don’t think I’ve seen every nook and cranny of the place myself. Paul always seems to be coming up with more and more new and interesting things, doesn’t he?

I want to thank you for your patience, too. Learning the guitar, or music theory, or songwriting does require perseverance. I hope that all of you know, or at least feel, that you can write me anytime for a better explanation of anything, something that will (hopefully) be tailored to your own situation. I may not have all of the answers (who does?) but I do promise you I’ll do my best to find workable solutions for you. Together we have a lot of experience and ideas. A trip to the Guitar Forums on any given day is often very enlightening.

I want to thank you for letting me share my life and thoughts with you. I don’t expect us to always see everything eye to eye but I do expect us to be able to communicate our ideas to each other. Without a conversation there can be no learning, and I will be the first to say that I have learned an awful lot of things this past year. And that I am much better for it, as a guitarist, as a writer, as a human being.

And, above all, I want to thank you for sharing your lives with me. It really means a lot and that fact that I haven’t enough words to express this pretty much proves it to me. I’ve always found that the more important something is, the less likely I’m going to be able to describe it in any appropriate way.

Remember that this website is here for you. It’s for your benefit that it was created and is maintained today. Ideas and contributions come in from people just like yourselves all over the globe. Please let them know you appreciate their efforts. One of the truly beautiful things about most musicians (and most people, when it comes down to it) is that they usually have open minds and hearts. After all, how else can the music get out for all to hear?

As always, please feel free to write. You can either drop a note off at the Guitar Forum page or email me directly at dhodgeguitar@aol.com.

I think you’ll all agree that this has been an exciting year here at Guitar Noise, but I’ll let you in on a little secret: It’s going to get even better!

Until next week…

Peace

I got an email a bit back with a question concerning one of my last articles. It was a good question and I sent off what I hoped was a good response (and I do intend to use both the question and reply in an upcoming column). I got a nice thank you for the explanation which included this statement: “I don’t know why you spend your time working on this site but I appreciate it and look forward to your next column.”

Now as much I like to think I know “why” I do the things I do, it’s always great to find that there are more reasons than I could ever hope to enumerate. It’s strange, but ever since I’ve started writing for Guitar Noise, I am being constantly showered with friendly reminders. Each day shows me not only just how important music is to my life and but also how important it is to be able to share this aspect of my life with friends and strangers alike.

Bass

I’ve been playing since 1974, but it wasn’t until my college years, 1975 through 1982 (I was one of many on the then popular “Bluto Blutarski” plan), that I made the acquaintances and subsequent “friendships for life” that music often fosters. Dan Lasley and I met in college waaayyyy back when. He and I’d played together, along with Laura and Anne (both of whom you’ll meet later) in White Ash and Dan also did sound for Fat Lewy. Then life, as it will, swept us along its way. He married Laura, moved to Los Angeles and eventually ended up (with family) in Connecticut.

Almost exactly a year ago, another good friend (and ex-Fat Lewy bandmate) Kyle got married. The reception was pretty much an all-afternoon jam with all the different people he’d played with throughout his life and it was a wonderful time. It was pretty much all I could talk about for months after the fact.

And one of the persons I wound up talking about this to was Dan. A mutual friend had emailed us both (and many others) some joke or other sometime in February or so and, as I was in one of my strong “why haven’t I kept in touch?” moods, I decided that I’d send him an email of my own. That led to his responding and my responding and on and on. I made mention of my newfound writing gig here at Guitar Noise and suggested that he might want to try his hand at sharing his knowledge. It proved to be a great idea as he is now the resident Bass for Beginners and Sound/Engineering columnist. And if you haven’t taken the time to read any of his articles, please let me recommend them. Even I can now understand some of this previously mystical engineering stuff.

And, of course, I told him about Kyle’s wedding and the reception jam.

And he, of course, said, “You, know, we could do that!”

And before either of us knew it, we were both swept up in life again, only this time it was carrying each of us towards each other. I have, literally, piles of emails. “What about this song?” “Do these dates work for you?” “Do you think we could talk so-and-so into coming?” Inquiries were sent out. Hopes were raised, hopes were dashed, other hopes rose to fill in the spaces.

It’s perhaps fitting to mention here that I’ve found that I have become addicted to jams. Yeah, I know that between teaching and practice I play virtually every day. But there is something very special about playing with other people. For me it is more important than playing for an audience (don’t get me wrong, that’s a real rush, too – just a different sort). And when the people in the jam are good friends, then it can really cook. I’ve taken to hosting some at my home and I get invited to some local ones and a grand time is had (hopefully) by all. It’s frightening, but sometimes my life can be divided into three phases: either I am playing in a jam, remembering and (over) analyzing the last jam or fully anticipating and/or planning the next one.

And lots of planning had to go into this one. Fortunately, Dan was handling the nuts-and-bolts aspects – finding a hall, checking into equipment, even going so far as to draw up a list of nearby motels! He even gave it an “all-purpose” name: Riverside Jam. He reasoned that if it became an ongoing affair, it could easily change locals and, well, there’s always a river somewhere close by…For close to four months, rarely would a day pass without some communication between us about the upcoming event. We’d make a big deal about something, realize that we were making too big a deal about something else, laugh about how serious/silly we were being, get serious about not taking something seriously enough.

And one morning I woke up and it was time to get my gear together and trundle out east to have a great time with my friends.

Drums

Dan introduced me to Anne. Exactly when this was, I cannot say. I want to say 1981 or 1982. Let’s just call it quite a while ago. Anne was one of many drummers I’d play with in over the course of a few short years (if nothing else, the movie “This Is Spinal Tap” is truthful in its portrayal of the life span of any groups’ percussionist), and she certainly was the most memorable.

About two years ago, she too was someone that I took a deep breath and called out of the blue. I’d gotten her number from a university directory and called her up one Sunday afternoon. My timing was great; she’d been spending the day tearing up carpeting in her home so any call was a welcome break! Yes, she was still in the area and before I knew it I got invited to visit and play with her friends and I in turn invited them around to jam with my friends and students. Again I had to wonder how we let people fall out of our lives. For if there had to be a single word to describe Anne, it would be infectious. Her enjoyment of life knows no bounds and spills over everything. When she is in a good mood it is close to impossible for anyone in her company not be in caught up into the same mood as well.

Anne turned out to be excited about going to the Riverside Jam (now officially “Riverside Jam 2000,” which did indeed hint at the possibility of more to come…) because she has relatives in Connecticut. So she planned to fly out while I planed to hitch a ride to Connecticut, first with a student of mine (and his wife) and then with a friend who was interested in coming along and finally with Amtrak (plans do change frequently, you know; always have contingencies). But, with a little less than a week to go, she decided to drive out and asked if I’d come along.

I was originally going to leave on Tuesday by train and meet up Wednesday with friends in Philadelphia who would in turn take me to Princeton. But Anne wanted to spend more time with her relations so we left on Monday night after she picked me up and we had a pleasant meal at a nearby Greek restaurant.

We made terrific time driving out (and back) with not a single traffic snarl worth speaking of. And I must tell you how positively divine it is to listen to an Edith Piaf tape while riding the Ohio Turnpike close to midnight. And then the tape automatically flips to Fats Waller on side B…

A Lead Guitar

Of this particular set of people, Greg and I go back the farthest. I met him in 1976 and we’d played in Balance of Power and other little groups we’d throw together for whatever occasion might arise. Even though there are some people I’ve known longer, he and I have been pretty good at keeping in touch. Like many of my friends and ex-bandmates, he doesn’t play much anymore and is genuinely happy to get the chance to do so.

Anne and I arrived at his home Tuesday night. After a quick bite for supper, she left to drive up to visit her relatives and I stayed to make the rest of the journey on Thursday with Greg. It was wonderful being with him and his family again. I am lucky in that I know so many people who genuinely make me feel at home. The time always flies by when I’m with him, whether I’m running ideas for arrangements by him or he’s showing me the latest equipment and/or toys that he’s picked up. We got in some playing time and also stopped in at a few music stores for supplies. I did manage to meet up with my Philadelphia friends in Princeton for dinner on Wednesday and then Greg and I headed off to Dan’s Thursday.

After unpacking a few things and having supper, Dan, Greg and I played for a brief while. Then Greg went off to check in at his hotel (his wife and daughter were to join him Friday) and I stayed up and caught up with my host. Even though we’d been emailing each other now for a half a year, there is still no substitute for being able to see into the eyes of your friends.

The next day, Dan and Greg went over all the sound gear and recording equipment while I wrote out and arranged charts for our “horn section.” It’d been longer than I care to talk about since I’d done this sort of thing and must say that it was a blast. Having two saxophones to deal with (either two tenors or an alto and a tenor) brought a new dimension to a jam that I’d long since forgotten. And, in addition to playing the tenor saxophone, Dan’s son Ben also had recently picked up the flute, so I tried to work that in for a song or two. Virtually everyone I know these days plays guitars or the (occasional) keyboard; it’s hard enough to get a bass player sometimes! Now when I said I “wrote and arranged” charts for the horns, you must undestand something. All I did was write out the parts that were deemed “essential” to a song and make sure that they were transposed correctly according to the instrument. Sometimes these were existing horn parts, like say in “Get Ready” or “Only The Good Die Young.” Sometimes I might double a guitar riff (“My City Was Gone”) or even the bass line (“Somebody To Love”). The purpose was to provide a framework, as opposed to step by step instructions. After all, I wanted everyone to have the liberty to improvise.

Doing the charts also provided me with a reason to not be giving my friends (both electrical engineers, by the way) the incessant questioning that I am wont to do when I assist them in such matters. I can lay out cable and set up stuff with the best of them but if you needed me to explain exactly what I was doing, forget it. And I was having a much more interesting time talking with Dan’s kids, Ben and Jacqui anyway. Not to mention serving as a perch for Pern, the Lasley pet cockatiel.

Laura, Dan’s wife, got home from her hospital shift about noon Friday. She was supposed to get off around midnight Thursday but a baby had developed some serious complications and needed ’round the clock care and observation. Laura told me the child’s name was David and I told her that he then had two things going for him, his name and the fact that she was his doctor.

She crashed for the afternoon while I kept at the charts and much too soon it was time to pack the gear again and to move it all to Toquet Hall, our venue for the next thirty hours.

A Horn Section And Another Guitar

Toquet Hall, which Dan had managed to procure for the weekend, normally serves as a student center for the local high school population. It has the usual amenities – chess sets, foosball table, pool table, etc. And it has a huge stage. I hate to say it, but it was easily two to three times larger than many of the Chicago bars I played at in the early part of the 1980’s.

We unloaded and set up the equipment. Along with the PA gear, Dan also had managed to finagle a drum set so that Anne didn’t have to drag all her stuff across country. After performing my assigned tasks (mainly lugging things around and laying out cables and stands), I met and chatted with Chris. He was another “infectious” personality, having recently graduated from high school and having his first semester at Berklee School of Music a matter of days away. And he certainly could play the saxophone! Not only that, he had a fairly good grasp of theory to fall back on.

In contrast, Ben hadn’t been playing anywhere near as long but more than made up for the difference in experience by playing his heart out. And a fairly good balance was achieved by having Ben solo on pieces he knew fairly well while Chris took on more of the ad-lib chores.

Anne made her entrance just in time to help setting up the drum kit. And about this time, Bart showed up with his guitar rig. NOTE: I fully intend to full this space with a detailed, yet understandable, description of Bart, guitar/synth/MIDI rig. Bart has promised to help me with this and I am willing to wait in order to do it justice. I appreciate your patience in this matter. Onward

So, with all the principals (for this evening) in place and the tweaking of the PA pretty much finished, we ran out around the corner for some Chinese food (fabulous Schezwuan style scallops, by the way) and then settled in for some fun.

Vocals (And Another Guitar!)

The guitars turned out to have personality quirks all their own. While the horns (and the keyboards too, as it would turn out) had no qualms about playing any and everywhere, and while the drums and bass solidly held the foundation, the four guitarists were much more tentative about staking any claim to a space. And this was certainly to be expected. Laura, wielding her new burgundy Strat, laid down the primary rhythm pattern. For my part, I switched from my Strat to the twelve-string more often than I thought that I would. Sometimes I would echo Laura’s part and sometimes I’d come up with a second rhythm pattern, provided I found it sparse enough to not clog up the song. Bart, with the huge array of effects to choose from, added a lot of color to the proceedings. On one song he’d be the steel drums, on the next he might be a Hammond B3 with a Leslie cabinet. He also was a virtual catalogue of songs. I had a great time bouncing songs off him. Greg was typically Greg, choosing his spaces well and splashing them with an appropriately intense spray of notes.

It had been some time since I last heard Laura sing and I must say that I was impressed. I didn’t remember her having such a strong voice. And it was eerie how well Laura’s and Anne’s voices blended together. Bart, like myself, was much happier working the harmonies and although I’m sure we’ll never be mistaken for any famous (backing) vocalists (when anyone ever asks me “And what do you want to be one day?” I like to say “A Pip.”)(what easier job could there be?), we did manage to make a good show of things.

We played on, our time divided between seriously arranging a song or two and seriously goofing around. It is frightening how quickly time can pass when you’re truly enjoying yourself.

We packed up for the evening and went our separate ways. One important thing that we’d discovered was that the volume level had definitely been too much for Jacqui, which meant that, in all likelihood, it would prove to be too harsh for Greg’s daughter Sydney as well. Thoughts would have to go into making alternate arrangements for them for the next night.

When we arrived back at the Lasley residence, Laura declared she wasn’t ready to stop the music, so she, Dan and I grabbed our instruments and played for another hour-and-a-half. Fortunately, I had also brought my classical guitar with me (it makes a lot less noise when I’m up in the morning before anyone else and I figure that I might as well get in a little practice), which provided still another new arrangement to some of our favorite songs. And as much as I’d been impressed with Laura’s singing before, I was very much blown away now. Sometimes it does take a little time to shake out the cobwebs and set your passion free.

Then both Laura and Dan surprised me by starting in on some songs I had written a loooooong time ago. I know that I’m going to sound overly sentimental, but I don’t know any other way to describe what I felt. I mean, any songwriter will tell you how cool it is to write a song or how cooler still it is to play in front of a rapt audience. I can tell you that. I can also tell you what it’s like for someone to know your songs well enough to request that you perform them and then join in singing along. But those feelings totally pale when compared to the high you get when people like your music so much that they include in their repertoires. And when you find out they’ve been teaching your songs to their friends and families…

As I said, just when you think that you know all the reasons why you do things, better ones pop up. May it ever be so…

Keyboards

I woke up at seven (I can be annoying that way) with some lyric ideas running through my head. I have a number of songs that are kind of “in progress” (and yes, I do have to get them on disc somehow in order to get some of them off to A-J’s songwriting club) (yet another thing on the “to do” list…) and I managed to nail down a chorus that I’d been toying with for months. Not only that, I came up with a first verse that had some promise. I also charted out the chords (after figuring them out) of the song, “Just The Two Of Us,” which Anne had been keen on doing. To top it off, I got in a good hour’s practice, so my day was off to a great start. As Groucho Marx once said, “You’ve got to get up early if you want to get out of bed…”

Saturday morning was spent making final tweaks and tracking down a babysitter for the girls. Dan and Greg headed in ahead of the rest of us in order to do a bit more work on the PA and the recording set up.

After picking up some lunch for everyone, Laura, Ben and I made it back to Toquet Hall and about getting prepared for the afternoon “practice session.” Anne shortly arrived with Peter, the keyboard player. Like Bart, Peter has quite a catalog of songs wired into his brain. We toyed with some numbers that we all knew and then Peter taught us one of his original songs, “Plug and Play Girl” which proved to be a lot of fun to play, despite being written in Ab! We also worked on one of mine, “Waiting For Nancy.” Dan had thought that it might be a good number for Ben to take a turn at a flute solo and he proved to be right. The flute was an inspired touch.

Bart and I goofed around with some songs – he had a synth setting that nailed the horn sound used in Robert Palmer’s “Addicted to Love” down cold, so we set about figuring the song out. Anne had it on tape, so she wrote out the lyrics. We never got around to doing it as a whole band, but I learned another song to add to my list!

Pizzas were ordered and picked up late in the afternoon and we took a dinner break to write up a set list for the evening. Now while Dan and Laura and I had been tossing songs back and forth across the internet, everyone else had been content to sit back in ignorance and let things happen. But when you’ve got a lot of personalities in the mix, perhaps the best (and fairest) thing to do is what we attempted to do – namely, go around to each person and have him (or her) pick whatever song she (or he) wanted until we had a certain number of songs. And, frankly, by this point it was becoming obvious that we had the personnel to pull off a lot of different kinds of stuff. It was more a matter of what songs were (relatively well-) known by a majority of us.

Three times around the horn netted twenty-seven songs ranging from the obvious jammers (Jumping Jack Flash, Somebody To Love, etc.,) to some inspired weirdness (Get Ready, The Lion Sleeps Tonight, and Pat Benatar’s True Love). Add a couple of (easily played) numbers to highlight the singing (Save The Last Dance For Me) and a couple of arrangements with just a touch of madness (ZZ Top’s Tush done a la Ike and Tina (“we never do anything nice and…easy…”)Turner) and you should have enough to keep everyone entertained for the evening!

Ouevos Rancheros

If you should ever find yourself conducting a jam of musicians who’ve not really played together before, let me offer you this word of advice: always start with a song that has only two or three chords. Obviously if it’s something everyone knows, that’s great – but then again, with only two or three chords, it really won’t matter if everyone knows it or not. Some four-chord songs like Sympathy For The Devil or Knocking On Heaven’s Door will work as well. The point is not to start out too complex. And if the song has a lot of room built-in for extended jamming, then all the better. We began with Dave Mason’s Feelin’ Alright, which provided ample opportunities to toss leads around between Chris and Peter and Bart and Greg while still giving the rest of us a lot of interesting rhythms to work.

The second thing I’ll advise you is to don’t feel like you have to sit in on every song. Pick at least one, and preferably a couple, where you just get up and go and have a listen. I put down my guitar when we came to Moondance and went and grabbed a chair in front of the stage area and took things in. Aside from immediate family (Greg’s wife) and friends (a couple of guys Chris knew) and the Toquet Hall staff, there was no audience. This didn’t really surprise or sadden anyone; we were having too much fun. I had to laugh when three teenage girls walked up to the door and then, almost exactly in step like a marching band, pirouetted and marched off in the other direction. Their “my God, it’s old people!” radar must have been on.

We played fourteen (fifteen if you include a really jazzy version of My Favorite Things from The Sound of Music) songs for the first set (as Dan would write, “we tanked a couple and really nailed some others.”) and took a brief break Time was marching on, though. We were only three songs into the second set when Laura noted that it was just about 10:30. As we had to wrap up by eleven, we played an extended version of Waiting For Nancy featuring solos from everybody. Ben’s flute was sublime, particularly as it was coupled with a capella vocals on the final round of choruses. And Bart surprised the hell out of me by coming up with a marimba effect that also worked wonderfully. I mean, I’ve been playing the song for close to twenty years now and I’d never have thought of that! We wrapped up with a rousing rendition of Secret Agent Man (again, solos dished out all around) (I even took one!) and called it a night. Almost…

A bit of history: As noted earlier, I’d played with Dan, Laura, Greg and Anne in various bands and whatnot. And one thing about playing in bar bands in Chicago, it can be a grueling schedule. Fridays and Saturdays you start your first set between ten and ten-thirty and you plan to finish when the bar closes which could be any where from two ’til four the following morning. Then you pack up, transport all the gear back to your rehearsal space and then go and get some breakfast. And then you go home and crash unless, like me at the time, you had a weekend job. Then you hurried home, changed and went off to work. Necessity dictated that we become experts on where to eat in the wee hours of the day and that we did. One of our favorite places was “Lindo Mexico” in Chicago’s Logan Square neighborhood.

Now while Westport, Connecticut boasts no all-night Mexican restaurants, Laura and Dan had a suitable substitute that proved to meet our needs. And, it being only midnight as opposed to five in the morning, the place was pretty lively. Just like when you exercise you have to remember to both warm up and cool down, so should you follow the same thinking in regards to jams. Put your guitar (or whatever) away for a while and sit around somewhere and have a good laugh and enjoy each other’s company as much as you enjoy each other’s music.

And to make matters absolutely precious, when we arrived back at the Lasley home shortly before one in the morning, we found that Jacqui and Sydney had spent their evening constructing an eight-foot long “Good Job!” banner which hung in the doorway to welcome us back.

Load Out

It’s funny, and I certainly didn’t plan it this way, but I ended up sharing rides one on one with each of my old friends. Dan and I drove home together Friday night and Laura and I ended up in her car Saturday. And as we hadn’t had all that much time together it was good to be able to share things again. Likewise the next morning, she, Dan and I took a good walk around their “neighborhood,” talking about nothing and everything.

Laura loaned me a book she’d read titled Zen Guitar. Let me say this: if you’re looking to become an overnight guitar whiz, this book isn’t for you. And if you’re seriously trying to delve into the ancient mysteries of zen, you might find this merely whets your appetite. But if you want a spot-on way as to how to approach playing the guitar or a philosophy that will get you through all the initial frustrations, then you might want to check it out.

Our original plan was to have an acoustic beach party to wrap up the event, but like all plans some flexibility ended up being required. Peter had volunteered his place for the occasion and so in the early afternoon we all made it down to his place. It was a drizzly day (well, it had been raining all weekend!), so we kept the instruments inside. But between too late of a start, the weather and Anne wanting to get an early start on the trip back (the idea was to be in Chicago before Monday’s afternoon rush), the session itself was very short. But we did get to play another of Peter’s tunes and one of mine and, more importantly, we got to spend some more time just relaxing and enjoying ourselves. Next time we’ll have a better handle on how to arrange some of the events.

And there will be a next time.

Back at work, about a week or so later, someone asked me if I’d had a good time on my vacation and I actually had to ask myself “I went on vacation? When did this happen?” I was already once again out of my “remembering the last jam” phase and well into the thinking ’bout the next one, whenever it may be.

It is truly frightening how fickle one’s mind can be. I can remember the chords of a song that I haven’t played for over fifteen years but I have to really think in order to recall the name of an author whose book I’ve been enjoying the past week. Memory (mine, anyway) is highly selective at best, and should always be considered highly suspect as well.

Yet in spite of all that, our memories are what provide much of our lives’ strength and hope during the times we’d rather forget fairly quickly. When we are sad or tired or bored or frustrated or simply wishing to be somewhere (someone, some time) else, a memory can be counted on to provide relief, to smooth out the troubles for a moment or two. How we choose to remember things, and how we use those memories in our lives, is often an indication of what is truly important to us as individual human beings.

Now, writing about all of this, it doesn’t surprise me that what I remember most vividly has little or nothing to do with the actual “performance.” I remember:

There are no billboards on the Ohio Turnpike
Thinking that following up Fats Waller and Edith Piaf with old Robert Palmer and new Paul Simon was an inspired choice
That it takes forever to cross Pennsylvania west to east but can be done east to west without you even noticing
Wondering why there is so much farmland in Pennsylvania but only three cows
Coming up with a hysterically amusing version of ZZ Top’s song La Grange done as a Gregorian chant
Learning the history of Lego’s from a huge poster Ben had drawn up for a school project
Being asked riddles by Jacqui and Sydney – I thought I knew the answers but, like just about everything, they too had been updated for the young. What has four eyes but cannot see, anyway?
Watching Dan’s eyes light up with delight when a song was taking an unexpected yet totally cool change of direction
Listening to Laura’s laughter while Greg told stories of his pet budgie
Getting a brief tour of where Anne grew up
Greg and I belting out Put A Little Birdhouse In Your Soul at the top of our lungs while driving back to his house from Princeton (“…and countless screaming Argonauts…”)

As much as we’d like to think otherwise, it’s the little things that will either delight or haunt us forever. A moment will always be more powerful than an event.

And jams are meant to be things of the moment. For all their planning and preparation (or lack of planning and preparation), the actual music is like a firework display. Some songs will take our breath away, some will simply occur without much notice at all. And when the grand finale is over and all that is left is the smoke and sparkling dust hanging in the air, everyone has their own memory of what happened. Oh yes, we can record the event (or not record it) and watch and listen to it over and over and over again, but we all know that this is not really as it happened. Because what really happened we heard and saw with our hearts, not with our ears and eyes.

Wherever you’ve traveled this past summer, wherever your life may take you in the future, I hope that you enjoy each moment in and of itself, if for no other reason than that it will ensure you lots of wonderful memories.

NOTES:

If you’d like to see photos of Kyle’s Wedding Jam click here. If you’d like to visit Dan’s page on the Riverside Jam 2000 use this link.

Most musicians are either incredibly self-promoting or unbelievably self-depreciating. They will either take all of the spotlight, sucking it in like a black hole, or they will go so far out of their way to avoid it that you might think they think their talent is a curse from the cruelest of gods. Rare indeed are those musicians who are fortunate to be well adjusted, taking their lives, music and abilities in stride.

Whichever category you may happen to fall into rarely has anything to do with your musical abilities. Your personality, developed after years of being you, really tends to determine these things. I can’t (and won’t) make a judgment on that. I believe that every guitarist, musician, whatever has strengths as well as “things that need a little work.” For any guitarist, the important thing is to be able to objectively analyze your musicianship (and yourself) in order to figure out which things you want to improve upon.

Remember a few columns ago when I told you how it was important to develop both your strumming hand as well as the hand that does all the work on the neck? Having this sense of balance and applying it to all facets of one’s art should be every musician’s goal. Whether it is complex theory or simply knowing the tastes of your audience, the more aspects of playing music you are able to absorb and to understand, the more balanced you can become. And the more balanced you become, the more you are able to sit in with anyone, anytime, anywhere. And isn’t that why we play?

It’s somewhat simplistic, but I break down musicianship into three basic parts: what you were born with, what you can learn, and what you can dream. Don’t laugh, but I also link these concepts with characters from The Wizard of Oz. The Scarecrow, the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion all wished for things that they never realized they had all along. At different points in my musical life, I have found myself wandering around lost in a magical land, desperately hoping to find some wizard who could give me a clue. Was it more important to have lightning-quick chops or to know how to play along with a new song in Eb?

The argument is older than (insert the oldest thing you can think of here) (Mick Jagger doesn’t count). Logic or emotion? Science or faith? Substance or style? Talent and technique or passion? The head or the heart? Well guess what? I don’t care which way you tend; it is vital for your growth to be able to work both sides of the fence. You can know more riffs than anyone else but if you don’t know where to play them (not how) what difference will it make? A true musician (hell, any human being) should not divide and subdivide things into categories. He or she should delight in taking the myriad musical elements and styles and using them to create new unions.

So let’s be off to see the Wizard then, and see what we shall see. Sing along with me: “If I only had…”

…A Brain

In this era of instant answers it’s easy to forget that, with a little knowledge and a good sense of logic, there’s a lot about music that you can figure out yourself. But why, when you can push a button and get chord charts, tab for songs, or alternate tuning suggestions. Believe it or not, you can get guitars that will tune themselves! It’s true! I got an email from a gentleman who wondered why I didn’t mention this wondrous invention in my last series of articles. Simple answer – I had no idea that such a thing existed (oh, and if you’re interested, you can find out more about them at www.selftuning.com).

To me, transposing the key of a song, figuring out basic chord fingerings, re-tuning one’s guitar and keeping in time are but a few of the things that are simply extensions of what one learns in your first weeks of playing. It’s just a matter of applying what one knows in a logical manner.

But the sad fact is that most guitarists truly believe that the art of playing well is strictly a matter for the hands. Give them a guitar to play and their minds switch over to automatic pilot.

As a teacher, I can tell you that one feels a lot more joy dealing with a student who comes in for a lesson saying, “Okay, this is what I figured out this week- let’s go over it and see if I’m on the right track.” Any pupil that supplements his or her learning challenges the teacher to stay a few steps ahead of the student. Both benefit tremendously from their relationship.

I’ve told you this before but it bears repeating: it is much more important to know how and why something works than it is to “just do it.” Say I show you a D augmented chord:

Of course you could play it. But suppose instead that I simply tell you that in order to form an augmented chord you simply take a major chord and raise the V a half-step. Armed with this knowledge, you could now find any augmented chord yourself. Check it out! G augmented? Well G is G, B and D (I, III, V). Therefore G augmented is G, B and D#. D# is the first fret on the D string so here’s how to play a G augmented:

This is one of the simplest examples of how to use your head. As you acquire more and more musical knowledge (no matter where it comes from), the puzzles get more and more interesting as well. This is how you come up with song arrangements. This is how you figure out how to go seamlessly from one song into another during a performance. The inspiration may come from another source (heart or nerve), but it’s your brain that comes up with the logistics of how to put it all together.

And the absolute best thing is that anybody can learn. Sure, people learn at different speeds, but you are the one who controls that. If you take the time, you will be rewarded for your efforts. It may not happen as fast as you’d like. You may not ever play or write the music that you hear it in your head, but you can always make strides to get closer to your ideals.

Your brain is also good for letting you know when things aren’t working. I know a few people who play until they drop and while it’s fun for a while, their last memory tends to be about how awful the last few numbers were and this depresses them. They don’t know when to stop. All it takes is a bit of common sense and the ability to listen critically as an observer, not as a participant.

The ability to listen and think becomes more and more important as you expand your musical horizons. I don’t know about you, but as much as I love getting together and playing with other people, I have a hard time doing a song where five different guitars all play the same thing. Why have all those guitars then? This is where your knowledge of different chord voicings and strumming patterns, as well as your use of fills can brighten up a song immensely. In music, it’s often the little touches, the hammer-on here, the bit of descending scale there, that bring the biggest satisfactions, to the player as well as to the listener.

…A Heart

But let me tell you something, given the choice between going to see someone who is technically proficient or someone who is “okay,” I will automatically default to a different criteria. Who puts out more passion? And please don’t confuse “passion” with “stage presence.” I always find myself enjoying the music more when it is obvious that the performer is giving every emotion that he or she brought to the show. It doesn’t necessarily have to be joy, although joy tends to be much more contagious. A solo guitarist can be very quiet and thoughtful and you can still feel it flowing into you. Anger can become like electricity. Sadness can pour out from the speakers.

And again, this isn’t just big name acts. Quite often you can find the most remarkable musicians right in your own back yard. You just have to take the time and make the effort to seek them out.

It is passion that will let you listen in rapt attention to someone whose voice is, for a singer, merely passable. It is passion that enables you to welcome a relatively ordinary song into your life. It is passion that will make you record the forty-second take of a song that you just can’t seem to get right.

For the musician, guitarist or writer, passion cannot be faked. And you recognize it immediately in others. Each of us is born with passion. It may have led us to taking up the guitar in the first place. It may have flowered while we were learning to love music. But it is there.

The trick is in harnessing it. Harnessing it and expressing it. Since we are all individuals, we tend to convey passion in ways that are in harmony with our personalities. One guitarist I’ve had the privilege of playing with is a fairly shy person. But I cannot begin to describe how his eyes lit up when he was really into a song. He wouldn’t smile or jump about or anything like that but he would just get so intense – it was like he drew in energy from the world through his eyes.

You don’t have to be incredibly extroverted to be a musician. I know quite a few people who really dislike playing in front of people. It’s not that they’re not good; they simply feel very vulnerable putting their emotions out on display. Playing can be an intensely private thing. There are “stars” that don’t play live. Andy Partridge of XTC quit touring because of stage fright. But if you listen to any of his songs, you can still feel his emotions. He has a great knack of putting all of himself into even the silliest of songs. When he’s whimsical, the songs are charms. When he’s hurt or angry, the songs are daggers.

Because everyone channels his or her passions differently, you really can’t be coached or taught how to use yours. This is where the brain can help. If you’re able to objectively look at yourself (which is no mean feat) you can focus on the best use of your heart. It’s cruel to say, but some musicians are so into being other musicians, down to the point of mimicking every grimace and vocal inflection, that they don’t realize how much they are shortchanging their own abilities. Yes it’s corny, but there will only ever be one you, so don’t deprive us of the chance to get to know who you are and what you feel. Let us share in your music.

…The Nerve

To some, making music is all about taking chances. I don’t know about you, but just picking up a guitar the first time seemed like quite a daring thing to do. The first challenges – getting in tune, playing my first chord, switching between two chords, playing a complete song without (obviously noticeable) mistakes – seemed quite daunting at the time.

But as you get better through practice and repetition, it’s important to keep setting up new challenges for yourself. They don’t have to be earth shattering, awe-inspiring Herculean feats. One week, use your passion and come up with a new riff. Next week use your brain and figure out how to play your riff in every possible key. Finally, you can use your nerve (imagination, whatever) to place that riff into a new place.

Sometimes the dares can be very small. You can try out a C sus instead of a C at a certain point in a song. It might work, it might not. But then you should look at it and try to find out why it did or didn’t work. Inspiration or daring without critical follow-up is foolish. If you don’t learn from what you’re doing, then you’ll constantly be starting at square one each time you try something out.

One day while playing Another Brick In The Wall (Part II) I started thinking, for no real reason whatsoever, about the chord structure. D minor to G is quite unusual, but thinking about it, I know quite a few songs in E minor that switch between E minor and A (which is the same thing – it’s just up a step). So I picked one of those songs, Somebody To Love and started playing with the same strumming pattern as the Pink Floyd song. And it was great! I don’t play it this way all the time; it usually depends on how receptive I think the crowd might be. But I now have a viable second arrangement for a song that sometimes runs the danger of being played to death.

Your Own Back Yard

Please don’t misunderstand – you can never, ever have enough tools and sources to help you become a better player or writer (or person, for that matter). A good teacher is worth more than anyone can possibly spend. There is no way to measure that kind of value. Likewise all the information that you can get here at Guitar Noise or other online sites or books or simply talking to your friends.

But don’t forget that you have a lot of the answers in you as well. You have brains and hearts and nerve that can guide you if you give them the chance. When you know you have such support, you can dare to take chances and try things you might not otherwise.

Next time out, we’re going to look at the basics of soloing, so it’s important that you don’t just crawl into a shell and say, “Forget that. I can’t solo.” Find some nerve, okay? I know it’s there and so, hopefully, do you.

As always, please feel free to email me any questions, comments, concerns, topics to cover, weather up-dates from your part of the world and whatever. You can either reach me directly at dhodgeguitar@aol.com or drop a line on the Guitar Forums. And to all of you who asked for more alternate tuning – of course we can go over some more. I love that stuff. Hang in there and we’ll appease our appetites when you least expect it. Deal?

I’m lucky in this way. Unless I’m traveling without an instrument, I almost always have an outlet close by. Since I often teach after work (my “real” job), I usually have a guitar at the office. While the weather holds, I can play outside during my lunches.

I’ve also been fortunate this past year in having more opportunities to play and to teach. One of my old band mates got married over Labor Day, so we had reunion of sorts. In August, I hosted a “last Friday the 13th of the century” jam at my home. Some old friends and new students got to sit in together. But to me the best part was having some of my friends’ kids getting in on the act – playing bongos or triangles or maracas while the “adults” jammed away on the “big person’s instruments.” Nothing is as thrilling as being part of the band, no matter what age you are.

It’s funny that I’m always being reminded of the fact that music is a medium that really works when it is shared. You’d think that it would be second nature to me by now, but it’s not. Because music gives me such a high, even just practicing on my own, I often forget (to the point of actual surprise) how that thrill is multiplied when I’m playing for other people. And even more so when I’m playing with other people.

I’ve been on the receiving end of music’s gift more times than I could ever hope to begin to remember. And in places where I least expected it. The first two nights a friend and I spent on Crete, we dined at restaurants where live bouzouki music was performed. At the second spot, it seemed like all the patrons knew the lyrics to every single song. It was wild to sit and listen to everyone singing joyfully in Greek. On the island of Santorini, the night clerk at our hotel introduced us to the work of Goran Bregovic, a contemporary classical composer of “Balkan” music. We would drink in his haunting orchestrations with our wine while watching the incredible sunsets from a terrace on the caldera.

In Marrakech, I sat raptly in the Djemaa el-Fna, taking in the Berber stories accompanied by the almost blues-like playing of the amzhad and rbab. Children in the medina would form impromptu parades, banging on various drums and cymbals or playing flutes as they wound their way through the narrow cobbled streets. And even though I rarely recognized a word, I knew if it was a happy song or a sad one, a refrain of religious awe or a reverent tribute to heroes long gone to the gods.

Here at home, I am fortunate to live in a city where there is always something going on musically. Summer in Chicago is virtually three-and-a-half months of free music in venues framed by the majestic skylines and the lakeshore. Every weekend boasts a different neighborhood festival of one sort or another and there’s bound to be good local bands vying for their shot at fame. Even the Starbuck’s Coffee shops get into the act and showcase area talents one or two nights a week. The only way to avoid being exposed to all the music is to shut yourself inside your house from Memorial Day to Labor Day.

Over the holidays I tend to take stock of things, especially what I’ve been able to accomplish and what I’d like to do in the upcoming year. Until this year, I never fully realized how much music played a part in the goals I have in life. No, nothing like “I’m going to record a top forty record” or “I’m going to be the headliner at Taste of Chicago” or anything like that. “I’d like to take on two more guitar students,” “I could learn one new song a week” or “I plan to finish the four songs I started writing last summer” might be more my style. You make think it laughable, but it’s important to set goals and it’s important that they are realistic expectations. Just as you shouldn’t go aimlessly through life, you should be setting yourself up for self-imposed letdowns either.

Regardless of your level of playing ability, the fact that you do play is a gift. A precious gift. And this is a good time to think about how you can use your gift to enrich not only your life, but also the lives of those around you. If you don’t have the time or patience to teach, you can still be an inspiration. If you have an old instrument you’re really not playing, loan it to a friend who’s been keen to take it up. Go to see a local group – support the people trying to live their dream. Share your passion for music with the world. Especially with the children.

I keep having this recurring dream – the setting and the characters change constantly but essentially the event is the same. I’m with a large group of people, some are old friends I haven’t seen in years and some are complete strangers. We exchange stories and techniques and laughs and fears and hopes and dreams and whatever. And we play. We teach each other our favorite songs; we learn to play songs the other has written. Someone figures out a great lead line. Someone else chimes in with an otherworldly harmony. And all the people who “can’t play” are playing percussion toys and singing along. It’s all gloriously exhilarating – slightly out of tempo and just enough out of tune to be able to notice (if you were looking for it) and close enough that nobody really does. Every now and then, though, it all comes together in such a way that takes our breath away. And I know why it works, why all these people who might not give each other the time of day in real life are now blissfully enjoying themselves:

Everybody’s in the band.