Sunday, September 25, 2011
I'm getting a lot of enjoyment out of practicing lately. Since I made the commitment a few months ago to spend more time with my "student mind", if you will, I've found it more and more rewarding and necessary. It's something I tell my students all the time, but it's worth noting that it can be easy to forget...even for a teacher. :)
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Sticking our necks out again....
Well, CD number 8 is "officially" released: "Torch", by DI3 (formerly the Dave Isaacs Trio but now an equal partnership). Having done this so many times there's a part of me that enters into this with some trepidation....once again, you pour time and money and care and a lot of raw emotion into a little square package and put it out there for the world to hear. Sometimes people freak out and you're the greatest thing ever. Sometimes they could care less. My experience, like most people's, has always been somewhere between the two extremes. But there's a difference this time. DI3 is, as I said, a partnership between three friends who happen to play music very well together. None of us are looking for stardom. We do want to be heard, because playing music is what we do....and while we would do it regardless, it's better to have an audience and a fan base so that you can potentially achieve financial success while you're at it. And we all want to be acknowledged, right?
The original goal of "Torch" was to document something that all involved think is special. We've achieved that goal, and so the next goal is to grow our audience. This is music that we all believe needs to be heard, and we love to play...so it's a natural next step. And if that audience happens to grow larger than we had envisioned, we can just be happy and celebrate that success. This is the first time in almost fifteen years of making records that I'm already content with what we've achieved. The rest is gravy. what a relief, and a joy....to play for the love of the game.
The original goal of "Torch" was to document something that all involved think is special. We've achieved that goal, and so the next goal is to grow our audience. This is music that we all believe needs to be heard, and we love to play...so it's a natural next step. And if that audience happens to grow larger than we had envisioned, we can just be happy and celebrate that success. This is the first time in almost fifteen years of making records that I'm already content with what we've achieved. The rest is gravy. what a relief, and a joy....to play for the love of the game.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Reconnecting with Creativity, or What You May Have Never Lost.
Over the past three years I've been so focused on teaching that I spent less and less time creating and writing. That began to change last winter when I realized that I was in danger of losing touch with a part of my life - and a part of myself - that I don't believe I can be happy without. In the past nine months I've started and finished two CDs - one with my trio DI3 and one for my friend Rebecca Hosking - and written and recorded lots more new music. Getting back in touch with my own creativity has been an interesting process, though. Teaching is creative work as well, especially if you really care about reaching students and making a lasting mark. It's also been great to see the work my students have been doing, some of them have been an inspiration to me as well.
After many years of thinking that my "artist self" and my "teacher self" live in two different worlds, the past year has got me thinking differently. I may need to dress a little differently in one role than the other, and speak a little differently. (My university gig certainly demands a level of formality that the rest of my life doesn't). But they're two sides of the same coin: I couldn't teach what and how I do if I weren't DOING it, and teaching makes me think differently and listen more intently. From the business side, my private teaching studio and my college positions bring income and formal credibility that help me book workshops. Workshops are lucrative and are something I can do on the road...making it easier to book more gigs, which raises my profile, which creates more demand for my teaching. Full circle. So what if it's only taken me until my 40's to figure that one out! It's just more proof that teachers can still learn and that players need to play. Simple as that....and my energy and motivation have really ramped up in response. More good things are coming my way, it's already begun. Just goes to show....when you look at your life and start asking questions, you just might get some answers.
After many years of thinking that my "artist self" and my "teacher self" live in two different worlds, the past year has got me thinking differently. I may need to dress a little differently in one role than the other, and speak a little differently. (My university gig certainly demands a level of formality that the rest of my life doesn't). But they're two sides of the same coin: I couldn't teach what and how I do if I weren't DOING it, and teaching makes me think differently and listen more intently. From the business side, my private teaching studio and my college positions bring income and formal credibility that help me book workshops. Workshops are lucrative and are something I can do on the road...making it easier to book more gigs, which raises my profile, which creates more demand for my teaching. Full circle. So what if it's only taken me until my 40's to figure that one out! It's just more proof that teachers can still learn and that players need to play. Simple as that....and my energy and motivation have really ramped up in response. More good things are coming my way, it's already begun. Just goes to show....when you look at your life and start asking questions, you just might get some answers.
Labels:
career philosophy,
Dave Isaacs,
music,
performing artist,
teaching
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Walking The Walk
I gave a workshop on bluegrass and mountain music this evening. It was fun to go through the music I had to prepare, but it was challenging, and reminded me what practicing meant. I love this music, but it's a difficult style to play well and I'm not immersed in it the way the best bluegrass pickers are. So I felt a real need to prep, and I was glad I did. Played a lot of mandolin, that was fun.
I had a realization the other day in a lesson: that once a student reaches a certain level of skill, the difference between student and teacher is a matter of their different listening and problem-solving abilities. I can see the problems when I make sure to look for them, and giving them attention leads to solutions. Ultimately, this is the most important skill I want my students to learn....how to stay on the road to being a better player.
I had a realization the other day in a lesson: that once a student reaches a certain level of skill, the difference between student and teacher is a matter of their different listening and problem-solving abilities. I can see the problems when I make sure to look for them, and giving them attention leads to solutions. Ultimately, this is the most important skill I want my students to learn....how to stay on the road to being a better player.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Time to start treating this like a blog!
I've been using this blogspot account more as an archive of articles than an actual blog. Maybe it's the real-time part that's a challenge, although I suspect the real issue lies in the lag between my thoughts and my two-finger hunt-and-peck typing.
I haven't been a journal-keeper in a long time, and my excuse has often been that I'm too busy, or I'm not interested in keeping a chronicle. Neither is true. I've finally admitted to myself that while I do enjoy writing articles, it's something I have to make myself do, like a homework assignment or a tax return. (OK, not quite that painful). Once I'm into the flow, though, I do enjoy the process. So this is an experiment in keeping that flow in motion.
Interesting how I've been attracted to playing the piano lately. There's several areas developing on guitar...more nylon-string lately, a little more bluegrass vibe and country blues on the steel-string, and more slide on electric. But now that I have some piano students again it's making me want to play more myself. Very gratifying to have another piano part on another record, and better still that it was done live with the vocal at the same time! But there's something in the tactile part of playing piano that just feels good lately, where the guitar seems to be fighting me at least half the time. At least, if I'm trying to play something interesting.
Scraps of songs are collecting again too, and I'm beginning to book cowriting appointments again. I have much the same feeling about cowriting as I do about writing articles...hard to get started but gratifying once it's under way. One new song I'm very excited about, and there's a couple under way that have real promise.
Resolution....to remain this focused on and interested in playing music, writing music, and writing about writing and playing music!
I haven't been a journal-keeper in a long time, and my excuse has often been that I'm too busy, or I'm not interested in keeping a chronicle. Neither is true. I've finally admitted to myself that while I do enjoy writing articles, it's something I have to make myself do, like a homework assignment or a tax return. (OK, not quite that painful). Once I'm into the flow, though, I do enjoy the process. So this is an experiment in keeping that flow in motion.
Interesting how I've been attracted to playing the piano lately. There's several areas developing on guitar...more nylon-string lately, a little more bluegrass vibe and country blues on the steel-string, and more slide on electric. But now that I have some piano students again it's making me want to play more myself. Very gratifying to have another piano part on another record, and better still that it was done live with the vocal at the same time! But there's something in the tactile part of playing piano that just feels good lately, where the guitar seems to be fighting me at least half the time. At least, if I'm trying to play something interesting.
Scraps of songs are collecting again too, and I'm beginning to book cowriting appointments again. I have much the same feeling about cowriting as I do about writing articles...hard to get started but gratifying once it's under way. One new song I'm very excited about, and there's a couple under way that have real promise.
Resolution....to remain this focused on and interested in playing music, writing music, and writing about writing and playing music!
Thursday, February 3, 2011
The TSU Guitar Summit: A Guitar Program For “Guitar Town”.
Nashville is home to some of the best guitar players on the planet. And while there are many, many great guitar teachers and no shortage of students, none of our many academic institutions have a reputation for turning out great guitarists. There are many smaller, well-established private programs that do very well, with strong reputations and a steady clientele, and some of the same people that teach for the small businesses also teach at our colleges and universities. I fall into this category myself, having worked for one of the larger music stores in town for almost three years before I started teaching college. We don't lack for talent or resources, and maybe that's part of the reason: no one program is likely to become THE place to go when there are so many options. But I think there are other, more significant factors at work.
In my opinion, there are so many fantastic self-taught players here that the prevailing sentiment seems to lean AGAINST formal music education. History does back up this view...choose any iconic popular musician of the last fifty years, and odds are if they studied music it wasn't in school. Some of the most influential players in pop music created their sound by developing technical approaches to their instrument that no teacher would even consider. Mark Twain famously said “I have never let my schooling interfere with my education”. I'm sure there were thousands of novelists from Twain's day with college degrees, but we don't know their names or their work. So given all of this, why WOULD an aspiring musician want to study formally? And why would Nashville, a city with more raw talent per square mile than possibly anywhere else on earth, need to develop such a program of formal study?
Truth be told, maybe it doesn't. Some of the most important lessons about playing music will never be learned in a classroom, and unlike other disciplines a degree in music doesn't make you a musician. Raw talent, creativity, and drive can sustain an entire career: the education comes from the proverbial school of hard knocks. Some believe that those things can't be taught but must be God-given, and sometimes they are. But I've come to believe that our gifts are something to be grateful for but not relied upon. The purpose of formal education is to help the areas we have been gifted reach their full potential, and to cultivate the areas where we lack those gifts.
Formal education gives us the tools to identify and strengthen our weaknesses. It teaches us to be responsible: to take tasks seriously, and to achieve when achievement is demanded. We learn that we don't know what we need to know, and that we may not see the fruits of our labors for years to come. Or, we might learn that we're terrible at taking direction, and either learn to handle it or quit. And the fact is, most people quit. They drop out of school, or they stop practicing, or they quit taking lessons, or a thousand other things that could continue to happen but don't. And for every story of the star who dropped out of school to make it to the big time, there are thousands of other dropouts who just stayed dropouts. To quote one of my favorite songwriters, Tommy Womack, “you can't be a has-been when you never was.”
It's as simple as this: commitment and hard work come more easily to some than to others. Life doesn't give grades except for pass or fail. That ought to be incentive enough, but for most of us it's not. Formal study provides another means to gauge our progress, and surrounds us with like-minded people in a focused environment that promotes and rewards learning. This doesn't have to happen inside the walls of an institution, it's happening right now on Music Row or on Lower Broad. But the institution exists to lift everyone up, while the school of hard knocks is ultimately out to thin the herd.
This might sound cynical, but it's not. With so much talent in one place, talent becomes less important. When so many people are trying to get through one narrow gate, the gatekeeper has to work harder just to manage the traffic. Standards become increasingly harder to define, and the bar is forced higher. This is a good thing in that the people who can stick it out and grow from the process raise their game, and they begin to stand out. But not everyone is ready for the rough-and-tumble...so what happens then?
As a career educator I'll be the first to admit that I'd be hurting for business if all those people just took the proverbial ball and went home. But I can also say with complete conviction that I have never met a hopeless case in twenty-six years of teaching music. I've met plenty of lazy, distracted, self-absorbed, and unreasonably self-entitled people.....but I've never worked with anyone who didn't progress if they made the commitment and stuck it out.
School is a great place to learn those foundation skills without risking your career in the process. If I had come to Nashville straight out of high school, I'm pretty sure I would have been chewed up and spit out. And for the record, I was a mediocre student in high school, the kind who would get endless lectures about my “potential”. One English teacher called me a “conundrum” (which of course I then had to look up)....he could see that I had a good mind but wasn't putting it to much use, at least in his class. Now I have students like that myself, but the difference is that rather than telling them (in so many words) that they're just lazy, I look for ways to reach them. When one method fails, I try another. I learned this from some of the great teachers I was fortunate enough to be exposed to in college. And I was also fortunate enough to live in a place that was crowded with talented, successful people who wanted to give back. New York City was an amazing place to be a student, and so is Nashville for exactly the same reason: there are SO many talented people to learn from. The trick is to find them, or better yet, find them gathered together in one place.
This summer, as I have the past two years, I'm organizing a guitar festival at Tennessee State University we call the Guitar Summit. The term “summit” can mean a pinnacle, the very top, or it can mean a meeting of great minds or great leaders. That second definition sums up the intent and mission of this event: to bring some of Nashville's best players and teachers to one place and see what happens when they work together. This is not the first program of its kind, here in Nashville or anywhere else...but it IS unique in that the entire program is based on the idea that this meeting of great minds and great talent creates great energy. Some of the classes are team-taught, and some are just discussions between one player and another. No matter the method, the idea is always to be engaging. By offering so many classes in a short time, the student's brain gets stimulated, but by varying the approach we allow room for ideas to settle in. You don't leave the Guitar Summit with a stack of photocopies and books you'll never open again (trust me, I have plenty myself from past experiences in my student days). If we accomplish our goal, you leave with a head full of ideas and inspiration, and had an opportunity to hang out in an intimate setting with true masters. Putting all of that to work in order to make you a better musician is still up to you...but as I learned from my best teachers, that booster shot of inspiration can make all the difference.
Whether this event makes a mark on the guitar community in Nashville remains to be seen. It's certainly one of my goals, and the team we've assembled this year is the best yet. (An official press release with a full instructor list is coming very soon). But the idea of a meeting of minds and ideas is at the heart of the very concept of a university, and this too is the heart of the Guitar Summit. I am in the very fortunate position of having the support of one of Nashville's oldest institutions of higher learning, and an unparalleled pool of talent to draw from. It's a powerful combination, and I have high hopes and higher goals. Join us at Tennessee State University this June 3-5 and see for yourself.
In my opinion, there are so many fantastic self-taught players here that the prevailing sentiment seems to lean AGAINST formal music education. History does back up this view...choose any iconic popular musician of the last fifty years, and odds are if they studied music it wasn't in school. Some of the most influential players in pop music created their sound by developing technical approaches to their instrument that no teacher would even consider. Mark Twain famously said “I have never let my schooling interfere with my education”. I'm sure there were thousands of novelists from Twain's day with college degrees, but we don't know their names or their work. So given all of this, why WOULD an aspiring musician want to study formally? And why would Nashville, a city with more raw talent per square mile than possibly anywhere else on earth, need to develop such a program of formal study?
Truth be told, maybe it doesn't. Some of the most important lessons about playing music will never be learned in a classroom, and unlike other disciplines a degree in music doesn't make you a musician. Raw talent, creativity, and drive can sustain an entire career: the education comes from the proverbial school of hard knocks. Some believe that those things can't be taught but must be God-given, and sometimes they are. But I've come to believe that our gifts are something to be grateful for but not relied upon. The purpose of formal education is to help the areas we have been gifted reach their full potential, and to cultivate the areas where we lack those gifts.
Formal education gives us the tools to identify and strengthen our weaknesses. It teaches us to be responsible: to take tasks seriously, and to achieve when achievement is demanded. We learn that we don't know what we need to know, and that we may not see the fruits of our labors for years to come. Or, we might learn that we're terrible at taking direction, and either learn to handle it or quit. And the fact is, most people quit. They drop out of school, or they stop practicing, or they quit taking lessons, or a thousand other things that could continue to happen but don't. And for every story of the star who dropped out of school to make it to the big time, there are thousands of other dropouts who just stayed dropouts. To quote one of my favorite songwriters, Tommy Womack, “you can't be a has-been when you never was.”
It's as simple as this: commitment and hard work come more easily to some than to others. Life doesn't give grades except for pass or fail. That ought to be incentive enough, but for most of us it's not. Formal study provides another means to gauge our progress, and surrounds us with like-minded people in a focused environment that promotes and rewards learning. This doesn't have to happen inside the walls of an institution, it's happening right now on Music Row or on Lower Broad. But the institution exists to lift everyone up, while the school of hard knocks is ultimately out to thin the herd.
This might sound cynical, but it's not. With so much talent in one place, talent becomes less important. When so many people are trying to get through one narrow gate, the gatekeeper has to work harder just to manage the traffic. Standards become increasingly harder to define, and the bar is forced higher. This is a good thing in that the people who can stick it out and grow from the process raise their game, and they begin to stand out. But not everyone is ready for the rough-and-tumble...so what happens then?
As a career educator I'll be the first to admit that I'd be hurting for business if all those people just took the proverbial ball and went home. But I can also say with complete conviction that I have never met a hopeless case in twenty-six years of teaching music. I've met plenty of lazy, distracted, self-absorbed, and unreasonably self-entitled people.....but I've never worked with anyone who didn't progress if they made the commitment and stuck it out.
School is a great place to learn those foundation skills without risking your career in the process. If I had come to Nashville straight out of high school, I'm pretty sure I would have been chewed up and spit out. And for the record, I was a mediocre student in high school, the kind who would get endless lectures about my “potential”. One English teacher called me a “conundrum” (which of course I then had to look up)....he could see that I had a good mind but wasn't putting it to much use, at least in his class. Now I have students like that myself, but the difference is that rather than telling them (in so many words) that they're just lazy, I look for ways to reach them. When one method fails, I try another. I learned this from some of the great teachers I was fortunate enough to be exposed to in college. And I was also fortunate enough to live in a place that was crowded with talented, successful people who wanted to give back. New York City was an amazing place to be a student, and so is Nashville for exactly the same reason: there are SO many talented people to learn from. The trick is to find them, or better yet, find them gathered together in one place.
This summer, as I have the past two years, I'm organizing a guitar festival at Tennessee State University we call the Guitar Summit. The term “summit” can mean a pinnacle, the very top, or it can mean a meeting of great minds or great leaders. That second definition sums up the intent and mission of this event: to bring some of Nashville's best players and teachers to one place and see what happens when they work together. This is not the first program of its kind, here in Nashville or anywhere else...but it IS unique in that the entire program is based on the idea that this meeting of great minds and great talent creates great energy. Some of the classes are team-taught, and some are just discussions between one player and another. No matter the method, the idea is always to be engaging. By offering so many classes in a short time, the student's brain gets stimulated, but by varying the approach we allow room for ideas to settle in. You don't leave the Guitar Summit with a stack of photocopies and books you'll never open again (trust me, I have plenty myself from past experiences in my student days). If we accomplish our goal, you leave with a head full of ideas and inspiration, and had an opportunity to hang out in an intimate setting with true masters. Putting all of that to work in order to make you a better musician is still up to you...but as I learned from my best teachers, that booster shot of inspiration can make all the difference.
Whether this event makes a mark on the guitar community in Nashville remains to be seen. It's certainly one of my goals, and the team we've assembled this year is the best yet. (An official press release with a full instructor list is coming very soon). But the idea of a meeting of minds and ideas is at the heart of the very concept of a university, and this too is the heart of the Guitar Summit. I am in the very fortunate position of having the support of one of Nashville's oldest institutions of higher learning, and an unparalleled pool of talent to draw from. It's a powerful combination, and I have high hopes and higher goals. Join us at Tennessee State University this June 3-5 and see for yourself.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Defining Your Style
This article first appeared in the Songwriters E-Tip.
One of the biggest and most formative reality checks in my life came when I was sixteen years old. I had signed up to attend a summer program at the Berklee College of Music in Boston, and the day my Dad dropped me off I was brimming with excitement. Then I walked in the door and saw hundreds of people with guitars in their hands. I knew plenty of people who played guitar, but I had never seen so many in one room, most of them older than I and probably more experienced. (This turned out to be true, but I also came to learn that summer that being surrounded by more skilled and seasoned musicians is possibly the best training any aspiring player can have). Still, that first image of hundreds of guitars and guitarists stayed with me to this day.
Nashville is like that too, for artists, pickers, and writers....practically everyone you meet is either in music or is close to someone who is. Most of those people are good at what they do, and some of them are great. Some start off mediocre but become great, for the very reason I mentioned before: that being surrounded by excellence will force you to either raise the bar or quit. Personally, I'm an advocate for raising the bar, and every one of my students knows how strongly I believe that. The way to meet a challenge is to rise to it, and Nashville offers opportunities for growth everywhere you turn.
So now we have a large group of driven and talented individuals who are all trying to achieve the same or at least similar goals. With such a large pool to draw from, it's almost inevitable that talent and skill, essential as they are, become less important to success simply because of the laws of supply and demand. When everyone is talented, talent as a commodity is plentiful and therefore devalued. This is why so many people stress the networking aspect of building a career: all other things being equal, the person with the best support team and network of contacts has a tremendous advantage.
But with all that said, there's another factor that sometimes gets overlooked. Throughout the history of popular music, there have been performers and songwriters who achieved great success despite the fact that they may not have been the best singer, player, or songwriter. Few people would call Bob Dylan or Mick Jagger a great singer. The Sex Pistols could barely play their instruments. (Some people would say they couldn't play them at all). But these artists made an impact on popular music....through great songwriting talent (Dylan), great charisma and chemistry with bandmates (Jagger), or such pure audaciousness and conviction as to be undeniable (let's face it, the Pistols were not the first punk band but they may very well have been the first one you heard of).
What all these people have in common – and every iconic artist you probably ever heard of – is that they defined themselves and their music in a unique and compelling way. I can't think of a single career artist that didn't have a SOUND, a vibe and a feeling that made you want to listen. And finding your own sound is the way to stand out from the pack.
Let's start with the fact that we are all individuals and no two of us are alike. When it comes to singing or playing an instrument, even those of us with formal training have come to an accommodation between the ideal we studied and the reality of what works on the gig. It's also worth pointing out that a classically-trained performer, while likely to have excellent technique and control, is not encouraged to develop a singular style...after all, in classical music the composer decides what the music is supposed to sound and feel like. In the popular music world, an individual style becomes essential. So the question is, no matter which path you took to get to where you are today, what can you do to REALLY define who you are as an artist?
I want to point out that I'm using “artist” in the broader sense of the word....a person who creates art in some form. I actually heard someone say once that a particular musician was “an artist NOW” because she had recently signed a record deal. This kind of thinking only discourages creativity and perpetuates the myth of the chosen few, in my opinion. To me, an artist is a person who uses the tools and materials they have been given or developed to create something that touches others. A technically accomplished singer or player becomes an artist when they learn how to place all that ability in the service of expressiveness and creativity. A less accomplished singer or player becomes an artist when they learn to make the most of the limited skills they do possess. The common thread is that in either case, one must evaluate and make choices. Be kind to yourself in these evaluations, but be honest about your strengths and limitations. This is where a good teacher can be a tremendous help, as it's often hard to assess ourselves clearly.
Also keep in mind that these assessments are an ongoing, career-long process. Skills can be honed, new vocabulary and techniques can be learned. This is one of the most beautiful things about a creative life....that an open mind never runs out of possibilities. We might say, then, that we proceed along two tracks at once: assessment of the skills we have and how to best apply them, and assessment and development of the skills we want to improve. Every career artist goes through both these processes, and the ones that remain vital are the ones that never stop doing so. There are, of course, business and logistical factors that come into play as well. For example, an artist may choose to record an album as a soloist because they have concluded they can't afford to tour with a band. But again, the application of artistry is in the choices that follow that decision.
It all comes down to a simple idea that I've brought up in many articles and will continue to hammer away at: as we learn to listen and evaluate, we learn how to grow. As we ask questions we find answers. It's so basic that it's easy to lose sight of as we get more and more involved in the complexities of the business. Here's a simple formula:
1. Identify your strengths.
2. Identify what touches or moves you in the work of others.
3. Emulate, but don't imitate. Allow your limitations to create distinctive traits.
4. Never stop asking questions or working to raise the bar.
If you make this process a part of your regular work in writing, performing, and recording, then your development and growth as a distinctive and singular artist will never stop...and neither will you.
One of the biggest and most formative reality checks in my life came when I was sixteen years old. I had signed up to attend a summer program at the Berklee College of Music in Boston, and the day my Dad dropped me off I was brimming with excitement. Then I walked in the door and saw hundreds of people with guitars in their hands. I knew plenty of people who played guitar, but I had never seen so many in one room, most of them older than I and probably more experienced. (This turned out to be true, but I also came to learn that summer that being surrounded by more skilled and seasoned musicians is possibly the best training any aspiring player can have). Still, that first image of hundreds of guitars and guitarists stayed with me to this day.
Nashville is like that too, for artists, pickers, and writers....practically everyone you meet is either in music or is close to someone who is. Most of those people are good at what they do, and some of them are great. Some start off mediocre but become great, for the very reason I mentioned before: that being surrounded by excellence will force you to either raise the bar or quit. Personally, I'm an advocate for raising the bar, and every one of my students knows how strongly I believe that. The way to meet a challenge is to rise to it, and Nashville offers opportunities for growth everywhere you turn.
So now we have a large group of driven and talented individuals who are all trying to achieve the same or at least similar goals. With such a large pool to draw from, it's almost inevitable that talent and skill, essential as they are, become less important to success simply because of the laws of supply and demand. When everyone is talented, talent as a commodity is plentiful and therefore devalued. This is why so many people stress the networking aspect of building a career: all other things being equal, the person with the best support team and network of contacts has a tremendous advantage.
But with all that said, there's another factor that sometimes gets overlooked. Throughout the history of popular music, there have been performers and songwriters who achieved great success despite the fact that they may not have been the best singer, player, or songwriter. Few people would call Bob Dylan or Mick Jagger a great singer. The Sex Pistols could barely play their instruments. (Some people would say they couldn't play them at all). But these artists made an impact on popular music....through great songwriting talent (Dylan), great charisma and chemistry with bandmates (Jagger), or such pure audaciousness and conviction as to be undeniable (let's face it, the Pistols were not the first punk band but they may very well have been the first one you heard of).
What all these people have in common – and every iconic artist you probably ever heard of – is that they defined themselves and their music in a unique and compelling way. I can't think of a single career artist that didn't have a SOUND, a vibe and a feeling that made you want to listen. And finding your own sound is the way to stand out from the pack.
Let's start with the fact that we are all individuals and no two of us are alike. When it comes to singing or playing an instrument, even those of us with formal training have come to an accommodation between the ideal we studied and the reality of what works on the gig. It's also worth pointing out that a classically-trained performer, while likely to have excellent technique and control, is not encouraged to develop a singular style...after all, in classical music the composer decides what the music is supposed to sound and feel like. In the popular music world, an individual style becomes essential. So the question is, no matter which path you took to get to where you are today, what can you do to REALLY define who you are as an artist?
I want to point out that I'm using “artist” in the broader sense of the word....a person who creates art in some form. I actually heard someone say once that a particular musician was “an artist NOW” because she had recently signed a record deal. This kind of thinking only discourages creativity and perpetuates the myth of the chosen few, in my opinion. To me, an artist is a person who uses the tools and materials they have been given or developed to create something that touches others. A technically accomplished singer or player becomes an artist when they learn how to place all that ability in the service of expressiveness and creativity. A less accomplished singer or player becomes an artist when they learn to make the most of the limited skills they do possess. The common thread is that in either case, one must evaluate and make choices. Be kind to yourself in these evaluations, but be honest about your strengths and limitations. This is where a good teacher can be a tremendous help, as it's often hard to assess ourselves clearly.
Also keep in mind that these assessments are an ongoing, career-long process. Skills can be honed, new vocabulary and techniques can be learned. This is one of the most beautiful things about a creative life....that an open mind never runs out of possibilities. We might say, then, that we proceed along two tracks at once: assessment of the skills we have and how to best apply them, and assessment and development of the skills we want to improve. Every career artist goes through both these processes, and the ones that remain vital are the ones that never stop doing so. There are, of course, business and logistical factors that come into play as well. For example, an artist may choose to record an album as a soloist because they have concluded they can't afford to tour with a band. But again, the application of artistry is in the choices that follow that decision.
It all comes down to a simple idea that I've brought up in many articles and will continue to hammer away at: as we learn to listen and evaluate, we learn how to grow. As we ask questions we find answers. It's so basic that it's easy to lose sight of as we get more and more involved in the complexities of the business. Here's a simple formula:
1. Identify your strengths.
2. Identify what touches or moves you in the work of others.
3. Emulate, but don't imitate. Allow your limitations to create distinctive traits.
4. Never stop asking questions or working to raise the bar.
If you make this process a part of your regular work in writing, performing, and recording, then your development and growth as a distinctive and singular artist will never stop...and neither will you.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Wired Differently
(this article first appeared in the Songwriters Connection E-Tip, 10/31/10)
These thoughts were prompted by a recent article in the the Songwriters E-Tip on the role of business people in the entertainment industry. Let me make it clear at the outset that I mean no disrespect to the author and his perspective. In fact, he presents a very clear and direct case for why creative people need a business team: people to focus on the business of “branding”, marketing, promoting, and creating income streams from creative work. As an artist or songwriter these people are essential in that they free up YOUR time to allow you to do what you want and love to do: create.
However, one phrase in the article jumped out at me:
"Let's face it: creative people are not always the best business people. Their brains are wired differently. That's part of why they are great writers, singers or entertainers. But there aren't many really good business people who are great writers, singers or entertainers.”
I won't even dispute the first sentence, it's one of those cliches that has been proven to be true again and again. But from my own experience as a self-managed artist for fifteen years (not to mention the spectacular failures at the uppermost levels of big business in America), I can confidently say there are plenty of business people who are not the best business people. But no one ever says that those people are “wired” differently, only that they made mistakes. And as far as the last sentence is concerned, I think Kenny Chesney, Jay-Z, or Madonna might disagree. The music world is full of artists with excellent business skills.
We are conditioned from a very young age to believe that creative talent is a gift that is given to some and not others. But in many traditional societies around the world, making music is a communal experience, not something that belongs to the talented few. We are divided from the moment we enter school as small children into “talented” and “non-talented”, and that division has a lifelong impact on the way we see ourselves. I have heard many clients say that they aren't “talented”, automatically limiting their growth potential and closing doors they simply could have chosen to walk through.
Make no mistake: there is no question that some people are more naturally gifted than others, in music, mathematics, basketball, sales, or physics. It has been demonstrated that different parts of the brain control different aspects of cognition, and that most of us are more highly developed in some areas than others. Guitar came relatively easily to me at first, but I remember struggling to coordinate a lay-up in a pickup basketball game. That DOESN'T mean that I couldn't have learned to coordinate that move competently...or that my friends who seemed so effortless on the court but couldn't play or sing would never be able to do so. But we most often gravitate to the things that come most easily...it's often more gratifying to not have to struggle. On the other hand, though, a hard-won struggle is VERY gratifying. The point is that, consciously or unconsciously, we choose the areas we want to develop in our lives.
I've often felt that I didn't choose music, but that it chose me. However, when it came time to learn to understand royalties, advances, profit and loss, ROI, and risk vs. return, I learned to comprehend those things. My “differently wired” brain didn't prevent me from understanding how a record label functions, or from learning to be savvy enough to not be taken advantage of (that's a big one, folks).
YES, having a good business team – and a good business PLAN – is key to success. But it is imperative that artists and songwriters learn about the business in order to protect themselves. Armed with this knowledge, you can choose the best team to help to achieve your goal. Above all, never believe, or allow anyone to convince you, that being a creative artist means that you can't – or shouldn't – understand the business you're in.
(this article first appeared in the Songwriters Connection E-Tip, 10/31/10)
These thoughts were prompted by a recent article in the the Songwriters E-Tip on the role of business people in the entertainment industry. Let me make it clear at the outset that I mean no disrespect to the author and his perspective. In fact, he presents a very clear and direct case for why creative people need a business team: people to focus on the business of “branding”, marketing, promoting, and creating income streams from creative work. As an artist or songwriter these people are essential in that they free up YOUR time to allow you to do what you want and love to do: create.
However, one phrase in the article jumped out at me:
"Let's face it: creative people are not always the best business people. Their brains are wired differently. That's part of why they are great writers, singers or entertainers. But there aren't many really good business people who are great writers, singers or entertainers.”
I won't even dispute the first sentence, it's one of those cliches that has been proven to be true again and again. But from my own experience as a self-managed artist for fifteen years (not to mention the spectacular failures at the uppermost levels of big business in America), I can confidently say there are plenty of business people who are not the best business people. But no one ever says that those people are “wired” differently, only that they made mistakes. And as far as the last sentence is concerned, I think Kenny Chesney, Jay-Z, or Madonna might disagree. The music world is full of artists with excellent business skills.
We are conditioned from a very young age to believe that creative talent is a gift that is given to some and not others. But in many traditional societies around the world, making music is a communal experience, not something that belongs to the talented few. We are divided from the moment we enter school as small children into “talented” and “non-talented”, and that division has a lifelong impact on the way we see ourselves. I have heard many clients say that they aren't “talented”, automatically limiting their growth potential and closing doors they simply could have chosen to walk through.
Make no mistake: there is no question that some people are more naturally gifted than others, in music, mathematics, basketball, sales, or physics. It has been demonstrated that different parts of the brain control different aspects of cognition, and that most of us are more highly developed in some areas than others. Guitar came relatively easily to me at first, but I remember struggling to coordinate a lay-up in a pickup basketball game. That DOESN'T mean that I couldn't have learned to coordinate that move competently...or that my friends who seemed so effortless on the court but couldn't play or sing would never be able to do so. But we most often gravitate to the things that come most easily...it's often more gratifying to not have to struggle. On the other hand, though, a hard-won struggle is VERY gratifying. The point is that, consciously or unconsciously, we choose the areas we want to develop in our lives.
I've often felt that I didn't choose music, but that it chose me. However, when it came time to learn to understand royalties, advances, profit and loss, ROI, and risk vs. return, I learned to comprehend those things. My “differently wired” brain didn't prevent me from understanding how a record label functions, or from learning to be savvy enough to not be taken advantage of (that's a big one, folks).
YES, having a good business team – and a good business PLAN – is key to success. But it is imperative that artists and songwriters learn about the business in order to protect themselves. Armed with this knowledge, you can choose the best team to help to achieve your goal. Above all, never believe, or allow anyone to convince you, that being a creative artist means that you can't – or shouldn't – understand the business you're in.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Musicians are like dogs.
First of all, a disclaimer: as a musician and dog lover myself, I mean for that statement to be a little flip. But there’s real truth there, and understanding this will make every one of your interactions with musicians go more smoothly onstage, in rehearsal, or in the studio.
Put aside the obvious jokes about shedding and the desire to be loved. To musicians, “shedding” means practicing, as in “going out to the woodshed to practice”… and we all want to be loved, right? This article is really about leadership, and how to get what you want as an artist from the musicians you work with.
Here’s the key point: if you don’t know what you want or how to communicate it, you won’t get it. Whether you see yourself as an “entertainer/front-person” or not, if you perform supported by others you are the focal point on stage to both the audience and the band. Not just visually as the person in the center, but in terms of onstage dynamics….everything that happens onstage is led in some way by your body language and explicit or implicit direction. The leader of every ensemble gathers and channels the energy of the band: like the lead dog in a sled race, you point the way and move the group ahead.
First and foremost, know how to give cues. You want to be able to let the band know when you’re about to sing, when sections of the song will change, and when and how to end. Most of this is worked out in rehearsal or written into the charts, but even so you need to be able to take the reins onstage. There’s lots of ways to do this, and you can find one that suits your performing style. When James Brown screamed out “take it to the bridge!” it sounded cool and fit perfectly with his vocal style, but he was also telling the band to go to the next section of the song.
If you’re a songwriter you already understand the importance of song form and structure, but you may not have thought much about the parts of the song that don’t involve a lyric. It’s important to be able to FEEL how long an 8-bar intro is, or know what the words “turnaround” or “tag” mean to musicians. Be clear on whether you start right with the band or whether they play an intro. If they do play an intro, know how long it lasts and when your vocal is supposed to begin. Know what key you sing the song in, and how to “count off” the tempo at the beginning to show how fast or slow you want it. Even better, learn to read and write charts, or at least learn how to follow the form or “map” of a tune from a chart. You don’t have to know more than a tiny bit of music theory, just a few basic principles (starting with how to count to four!) If you can do that, you’re already on your way.
Being solidly in command of these things allows you to speak the same language as the musicians who back you. This will not only earn you more respect but make them enjoy working with you more. Like dogs, most musicians are happiest when they know exactly what is expected of them….which means you need to be able to communicate effectively.
There’s a flip side of this, though….you shouldn’t need to micro-manage players to get what you want. If your directions are clear and you are in command of your role as leader, good musicians will know what to do and deliver what you need. If that’s not happening, you may not be working with the right people. Some dogs are stubborn and hard to lead. Some lack the training necessary to understand the commands. It’s not up to you to do the training, but to assess the personality and skill level of the people you work with. A skilled person accustomed to leading who is not receiving clear direction may quickly grow frustrated. A skilled side player accustomed to following will expect to be led or they won’t be able to deliver what you need. Happy musicians play better, bring more energy, and raise the level of the whole experience for you, them, and the audience. Just like happy dogs.
Put aside the obvious jokes about shedding and the desire to be loved. To musicians, “shedding” means practicing, as in “going out to the woodshed to practice”… and we all want to be loved, right? This article is really about leadership, and how to get what you want as an artist from the musicians you work with.
Here’s the key point: if you don’t know what you want or how to communicate it, you won’t get it. Whether you see yourself as an “entertainer/front-person” or not, if you perform supported by others you are the focal point on stage to both the audience and the band. Not just visually as the person in the center, but in terms of onstage dynamics….everything that happens onstage is led in some way by your body language and explicit or implicit direction. The leader of every ensemble gathers and channels the energy of the band: like the lead dog in a sled race, you point the way and move the group ahead.
First and foremost, know how to give cues. You want to be able to let the band know when you’re about to sing, when sections of the song will change, and when and how to end. Most of this is worked out in rehearsal or written into the charts, but even so you need to be able to take the reins onstage. There’s lots of ways to do this, and you can find one that suits your performing style. When James Brown screamed out “take it to the bridge!” it sounded cool and fit perfectly with his vocal style, but he was also telling the band to go to the next section of the song.
If you’re a songwriter you already understand the importance of song form and structure, but you may not have thought much about the parts of the song that don’t involve a lyric. It’s important to be able to FEEL how long an 8-bar intro is, or know what the words “turnaround” or “tag” mean to musicians. Be clear on whether you start right with the band or whether they play an intro. If they do play an intro, know how long it lasts and when your vocal is supposed to begin. Know what key you sing the song in, and how to “count off” the tempo at the beginning to show how fast or slow you want it. Even better, learn to read and write charts, or at least learn how to follow the form or “map” of a tune from a chart. You don’t have to know more than a tiny bit of music theory, just a few basic principles (starting with how to count to four!) If you can do that, you’re already on your way.
Being solidly in command of these things allows you to speak the same language as the musicians who back you. This will not only earn you more respect but make them enjoy working with you more. Like dogs, most musicians are happiest when they know exactly what is expected of them….which means you need to be able to communicate effectively.
There’s a flip side of this, though….you shouldn’t need to micro-manage players to get what you want. If your directions are clear and you are in command of your role as leader, good musicians will know what to do and deliver what you need. If that’s not happening, you may not be working with the right people. Some dogs are stubborn and hard to lead. Some lack the training necessary to understand the commands. It’s not up to you to do the training, but to assess the personality and skill level of the people you work with. A skilled person accustomed to leading who is not receiving clear direction may quickly grow frustrated. A skilled side player accustomed to following will expect to be led or they won’t be able to deliver what you need. Happy musicians play better, bring more energy, and raise the level of the whole experience for you, them, and the audience. Just like happy dogs.
You might be more musical than you think.
We all have strengths and weaknesses as writers, and as we learn what they are we often begin to seek out co-writers who are stronger in the areas where we are less skilled ourselves. A writer who is primarily a lyricist will seek out strong musicians, and vice versa. This can be a very effective way to work, and there have been iconic lyricist-composer teams throughout the history of popular music…from the Gershwin brothers to Rodgers & Hammerstein, Leiber & Stoller, and John & Taupin.
A prolific lyricist is likely to bring completed lyrics to the table at least some of the time. Let’s define “completed” by saying that in a complete lyric the meter, structure of verses and chorus, and the emotional content of the lyrics are clearly established. In such a case, some writers might say that the song is finished…it just “needs music”.
This might seem demeaning to music and musicians….that the melody, chords, and riffs are essentially finishing touches, and that the bulk of songwriting has to do with lyrical content. In a place like Nashville and a genre like country or folk, where story is king, I’m sure you could easily find writers who would agree with this assessment. But it’s possible that our lyricist may have actually written a good chunk of the music without even realizing it, and just needs a more skilled or more articulate musician to either (1) fill out and add color and interest to the formal structure or (2) help the lyricist articulate in greater detail how they already imagine the music. Either way, many of the decisions have already been made, and it can make the composer’s role relatively simple. Given a lyric with strong meter and form, a good composer/musician will simply fit the notes and chords into the framework the lyricist has already established.
Over the years I’ve been teaching I have had countless people tell me they have no musical ability. (This begs the question of how one might expect to succeed at music lessons when starting off with that mindset, but that’s another article). And it’s true that we’re all given gifts in varying degrees and in different areas. But it’s also easy to imagine that a writer who has carefully constructed a tight, catchy lyric already has an idea of how the music should go. You don’t have to know what the notes and chords are to have a sense of the rise and fall of a melody….even speech has a natural sense of up and down, of emphasis and release….or whether the lyrical content suggests a ballad or a driving rocker. If you DO have a sense of these things, then that song is very close to being finished.
I don’t mean to diminish the importance of a great melody, or a killer riff that grabs the ear and never lets go. My point is that it’s our job as writers to REALLY know how much we know, and to be clear about what we need to learn. A lyricist who hears music but doesn’t know how to communicate it needs to learn how to understand and speak about what they hear….and also to recognize when they’ve envisioned enough of the song that what they need is an arranger rather than a co-writer. If you can sing a melody all the way through your lyric, (even badly!), that song could be considered finished…and as I understand the law, the U.S. Copyright Office agrees. On the other side, musicians who don’t write lyrics need to cultivate an appreciation for song structure and wordplay, and enough flexibility as a composer to solve the “puzzle” of matching music to a finished lyric.
Over twenty-some years of teaching and co-writing, I’ve come to believe that many people, and probably most writers, have more musical ability than they give themselves credit for…what they may lack is the ability to play an instrument well enough to convey what they hear in their heads to someone else. And bringing an 80-percent finished song to a writing session creates a totally different dynamic than starting together from the ground up. That’s fine if everyone understands where you’re starting from, but it can create unnecessary challenges if that dynamic is unclear. So be clear yourself on the extent of your abilities and skills, and don’t demean or dismiss your own musicality just because you don’t happen to play an instrument well. Your co-writers will thank you for it, and you yourself will be far more likely to come away from the writing session feeling that things turned out just as you had imagined.
A prolific lyricist is likely to bring completed lyrics to the table at least some of the time. Let’s define “completed” by saying that in a complete lyric the meter, structure of verses and chorus, and the emotional content of the lyrics are clearly established. In such a case, some writers might say that the song is finished…it just “needs music”.
This might seem demeaning to music and musicians….that the melody, chords, and riffs are essentially finishing touches, and that the bulk of songwriting has to do with lyrical content. In a place like Nashville and a genre like country or folk, where story is king, I’m sure you could easily find writers who would agree with this assessment. But it’s possible that our lyricist may have actually written a good chunk of the music without even realizing it, and just needs a more skilled or more articulate musician to either (1) fill out and add color and interest to the formal structure or (2) help the lyricist articulate in greater detail how they already imagine the music. Either way, many of the decisions have already been made, and it can make the composer’s role relatively simple. Given a lyric with strong meter and form, a good composer/musician will simply fit the notes and chords into the framework the lyricist has already established.
Over the years I’ve been teaching I have had countless people tell me they have no musical ability. (This begs the question of how one might expect to succeed at music lessons when starting off with that mindset, but that’s another article). And it’s true that we’re all given gifts in varying degrees and in different areas. But it’s also easy to imagine that a writer who has carefully constructed a tight, catchy lyric already has an idea of how the music should go. You don’t have to know what the notes and chords are to have a sense of the rise and fall of a melody….even speech has a natural sense of up and down, of emphasis and release….or whether the lyrical content suggests a ballad or a driving rocker. If you DO have a sense of these things, then that song is very close to being finished.
I don’t mean to diminish the importance of a great melody, or a killer riff that grabs the ear and never lets go. My point is that it’s our job as writers to REALLY know how much we know, and to be clear about what we need to learn. A lyricist who hears music but doesn’t know how to communicate it needs to learn how to understand and speak about what they hear….and also to recognize when they’ve envisioned enough of the song that what they need is an arranger rather than a co-writer. If you can sing a melody all the way through your lyric, (even badly!), that song could be considered finished…and as I understand the law, the U.S. Copyright Office agrees. On the other side, musicians who don’t write lyrics need to cultivate an appreciation for song structure and wordplay, and enough flexibility as a composer to solve the “puzzle” of matching music to a finished lyric.
Over twenty-some years of teaching and co-writing, I’ve come to believe that many people, and probably most writers, have more musical ability than they give themselves credit for…what they may lack is the ability to play an instrument well enough to convey what they hear in their heads to someone else. And bringing an 80-percent finished song to a writing session creates a totally different dynamic than starting together from the ground up. That’s fine if everyone understands where you’re starting from, but it can create unnecessary challenges if that dynamic is unclear. So be clear yourself on the extent of your abilities and skills, and don’t demean or dismiss your own musicality just because you don’t happen to play an instrument well. Your co-writers will thank you for it, and you yourself will be far more likely to come away from the writing session feeling that things turned out just as you had imagined.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Does Your Work Have A Sonic Signature?
Does Your Work Have A Sonic Signature?
The concept of “sonic signature” is something more often applied to bands, singer-songwriters, and producers, but it’s a worthwhile thing to consider even if you are not a performing or recording artist.
A sonic signature is the sound that makes music instantly recognizable and memorable. It could be as simple as the type or style of guitar you might play, or the timbre of your voice, or as complex as the use of layers of parts or sophisticated harmonies. Some instantly recognizable examples might be the Beach Boys’ harmonies, Brad Paisley’s guitar, or Leonard Cohen’s gruff baritone.
These are all performing artists, but they do all perform original material….and the SOUND of their work is as much a part of what makes them who they are as the lyrical and melodic content of their songs.
As a songwriter, you might be faced with a choice in a given situation…..do you write what YOU hear as an artist yourself, or do you write to match the sound of an artist you want to pitch to? From the perspective of craft, it’s a useful skill to be able to write songs that can fit different artists in different styles…..think of it as a work-for-hire situation in which you are aiming to fit the specifications requested by another. The fact that the “hire” part of this thought is speculative is not essential to my point… you make creative decisions based upon the target of the song pitch. This approach can work…..Smokey Robinson has said that he wrote “My Girl” for Eddie Kendricks and David Ruffin (better known as the Temptations) to sing. But Smokey was an in-house writer and artist at Motown in the 60’s and had an inside track that most of us can’t access quite so easily. Unknown or lesser-known writers without such connections need something else to distinguish ourselves. Strong songcraft, killer hooks, and memorable melodies are all important elements of our toolbox….but what about the SOUND?
We hear on a regular basis here in Nashville that “it’s all about the song”, and while that’s true in the sense that a great song opens doors, it might be helpful to broaden our sense of what makes the song great. Imagine “Sweet Home Alabama” without that opening guitar hook, or the aforementioned “My Girl” without its own distinctive intro. The Beatles’ songs stand up on their own in a thousand rearrangements, but what caught the world’s ear in the first place was how they sounded: the blend of their voices and the chime of the guitars. None of these examples I’m mentioning are difficult to emulate, in fact they are very simple….but they reflect the simple fact that listeners respond to sound as much as they do to identifiable characters and a straightforward message. (Pop music wouldn’t exist as it does today if this were not the case. Explain the inscrutability of an REM or Radiohead lyric, to name two HUGELY successful rock bands whose songs are oblique and completely non-linear).
Granted, we’re talking about writing for a different market. All factors need to be considered….but among that list of goals, add “sonic signature” to the things you strive to achieve in your work. You don’t need to be a great singer (see Leonard Cohen above) or great guitarist (the intros to “Sweet Home” and “My Girl” are often two of the first things I teach beginning guitar students). In fact, your limitations can become strengths in that they can also shape your style. B.B King has been known to say that he plays so tastefully because his fingers can’t move very fast. Strive to improve but don’t let your limitations be a roadblock….rather, allow your limitations to help you define a style, which will evolve along with you.
The concept of “sonic signature” is something more often applied to bands, singer-songwriters, and producers, but it’s a worthwhile thing to consider even if you are not a performing or recording artist.
A sonic signature is the sound that makes music instantly recognizable and memorable. It could be as simple as the type or style of guitar you might play, or the timbre of your voice, or as complex as the use of layers of parts or sophisticated harmonies. Some instantly recognizable examples might be the Beach Boys’ harmonies, Brad Paisley’s guitar, or Leonard Cohen’s gruff baritone.
These are all performing artists, but they do all perform original material….and the SOUND of their work is as much a part of what makes them who they are as the lyrical and melodic content of their songs.
As a songwriter, you might be faced with a choice in a given situation…..do you write what YOU hear as an artist yourself, or do you write to match the sound of an artist you want to pitch to? From the perspective of craft, it’s a useful skill to be able to write songs that can fit different artists in different styles…..think of it as a work-for-hire situation in which you are aiming to fit the specifications requested by another. The fact that the “hire” part of this thought is speculative is not essential to my point… you make creative decisions based upon the target of the song pitch. This approach can work…..Smokey Robinson has said that he wrote “My Girl” for Eddie Kendricks and David Ruffin (better known as the Temptations) to sing. But Smokey was an in-house writer and artist at Motown in the 60’s and had an inside track that most of us can’t access quite so easily. Unknown or lesser-known writers without such connections need something else to distinguish ourselves. Strong songcraft, killer hooks, and memorable melodies are all important elements of our toolbox….but what about the SOUND?
We hear on a regular basis here in Nashville that “it’s all about the song”, and while that’s true in the sense that a great song opens doors, it might be helpful to broaden our sense of what makes the song great. Imagine “Sweet Home Alabama” without that opening guitar hook, or the aforementioned “My Girl” without its own distinctive intro. The Beatles’ songs stand up on their own in a thousand rearrangements, but what caught the world’s ear in the first place was how they sounded: the blend of their voices and the chime of the guitars. None of these examples I’m mentioning are difficult to emulate, in fact they are very simple….but they reflect the simple fact that listeners respond to sound as much as they do to identifiable characters and a straightforward message. (Pop music wouldn’t exist as it does today if this were not the case. Explain the inscrutability of an REM or Radiohead lyric, to name two HUGELY successful rock bands whose songs are oblique and completely non-linear).
Granted, we’re talking about writing for a different market. All factors need to be considered….but among that list of goals, add “sonic signature” to the things you strive to achieve in your work. You don’t need to be a great singer (see Leonard Cohen above) or great guitarist (the intros to “Sweet Home” and “My Girl” are often two of the first things I teach beginning guitar students). In fact, your limitations can become strengths in that they can also shape your style. B.B King has been known to say that he plays so tastefully because his fingers can’t move very fast. Strive to improve but don’t let your limitations be a roadblock….rather, allow your limitations to help you define a style, which will evolve along with you.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Are You Playing The Right Guitar?
Guitars come in more shapes and sizes than a casual observer might think. There’s lots of variation in the depth and width of the body, not to mention the neck….then you need to take the size and proportion of your fingers, hands, and arms into account as well. Yet many students who come to me are playing essentially the same style guitar, and don’t have a sense of how the physical shape and size of the instrument affects their ability to play it.
Part of the problem is that entry-level instruments don’t come in as many styles as more expensive guitars. If you’re buying a guitar for a child, there are ¾ and half-size models available, but an average adult would probably end up purchasing a standard style acoustic called a dreadnought. When you picture an acoustic guitar, this is most likely the body style you imagine: a lower bout that is slightly wider than the upper, with a shallow waist between the two. Dreadnoughts were designed for fullness and projection back in the 1920s to compete with louder instruments like fiddles and mandolins; they produce a fuller tone because the sound resonates through the deep lower bout. If you’re playing in standard right-handed style, this is the part of the guitar you need to get your right hand around to reach the strings…and for many people, this is where the trouble starts.
I personally love the sound of a dreadnought but I find that my right arm will begin to tire if I’m working around that deep lower bout for an extended period of time. If you are a person of smaller build you may find it awkward to even get your right hand comfortably to the strings, often leading to contortions and overuse of the right shoulder. If you find that your right shoulder is higher than your left when you play seated in a straight-backed chair, the guitar’s depth may be creating a physical challenge for you.
My primary acoustic is a slightly smaller-bodied design called an OM or orchestra model. It lacks the low-end punch of a dreadnought but chimes beautifully and is physically much more comfortable for me to play. I also own a parlor guitar, which is even smaller and has a more graceful, narrow waist. It has less power than the dreadnought or the OM but is a very sweet-sounding instrument and wonderful for fingerpicking.
Ultimately there are many body styles out there, and it’s worth being aware of the differences. Even if you’re just getting started, you can tell just by sitting and holding the guitar whether it’s well-matched to your body type. You should be able to reach the strings comfortably with your strumming hand without having to compress or overextend the shoulder, and you should be able to swing the arm freely without strain. Try sitting in a straight-backed chair or standing with a strap. And most of all, don’t be intimidated by the sales staff…take the time to get a sense of what feels right and what doesn’t.
Everyone’s going to have their own preferences when it comes to the size-to-sound-to comfort ratio. Sometimes it’s a function of musical style and sometimes it’s a purely physical or aesthetic judgment. But as I often say to students in any setting, be it a private lesson, a workshop, or an article…we come back again and again to the importance of paying attention and feeling what you’re doing. Listen and feel, and your ears and body will tell you when you’ve found the sweet spot.
Part of the problem is that entry-level instruments don’t come in as many styles as more expensive guitars. If you’re buying a guitar for a child, there are ¾ and half-size models available, but an average adult would probably end up purchasing a standard style acoustic called a dreadnought. When you picture an acoustic guitar, this is most likely the body style you imagine: a lower bout that is slightly wider than the upper, with a shallow waist between the two. Dreadnoughts were designed for fullness and projection back in the 1920s to compete with louder instruments like fiddles and mandolins; they produce a fuller tone because the sound resonates through the deep lower bout. If you’re playing in standard right-handed style, this is the part of the guitar you need to get your right hand around to reach the strings…and for many people, this is where the trouble starts.
I personally love the sound of a dreadnought but I find that my right arm will begin to tire if I’m working around that deep lower bout for an extended period of time. If you are a person of smaller build you may find it awkward to even get your right hand comfortably to the strings, often leading to contortions and overuse of the right shoulder. If you find that your right shoulder is higher than your left when you play seated in a straight-backed chair, the guitar’s depth may be creating a physical challenge for you.
My primary acoustic is a slightly smaller-bodied design called an OM or orchestra model. It lacks the low-end punch of a dreadnought but chimes beautifully and is physically much more comfortable for me to play. I also own a parlor guitar, which is even smaller and has a more graceful, narrow waist. It has less power than the dreadnought or the OM but is a very sweet-sounding instrument and wonderful for fingerpicking.
Ultimately there are many body styles out there, and it’s worth being aware of the differences. Even if you’re just getting started, you can tell just by sitting and holding the guitar whether it’s well-matched to your body type. You should be able to reach the strings comfortably with your strumming hand without having to compress or overextend the shoulder, and you should be able to swing the arm freely without strain. Try sitting in a straight-backed chair or standing with a strap. And most of all, don’t be intimidated by the sales staff…take the time to get a sense of what feels right and what doesn’t.
Everyone’s going to have their own preferences when it comes to the size-to-sound-to comfort ratio. Sometimes it’s a function of musical style and sometimes it’s a purely physical or aesthetic judgment. But as I often say to students in any setting, be it a private lesson, a workshop, or an article…we come back again and again to the importance of paying attention and feeling what you’re doing. Listen and feel, and your ears and body will tell you when you’ve found the sweet spot.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Why Musicianship Matters
The following is a quote from the founder and president of a very well-known music industry company:
"Have you spent years working on your song craft, or on musicianship? Practicing guitar doesn't count toward songwriting all that much, unless of course you're learning the chords you'll need to write the songs."
In fairness, I'm taking this statement out of context. But it was part of a longer essay about long-term commitment to songwriting, and if I'm reading him right he's suggesting that song craft and musicianship are mutually exclusive areas. The following sentence does seem to reinforce that impression, the "unless of course" notwithstanding.
Odd that the founder of a company that helps writers place songs with producers, film supervisors, artists, and more - in a wide variety of genres - would suggest that musicianship is not a part of songcraft. Musicianship is much more than how many scales you know or how fast you can play - it's an understanding of how to speak the language, and developing fluency in a variety of dialects (styles). Yet some in the music business seem to take the attitude that this fluency in the language of music isn't important to the process of songwriting.
We can all think of those simple, perfect songs - like the old cliché goes, "three chords and the truth". This is the foundation of pop music, it's true. But the Beatles wrote great pop music using a lot more than three chords. So did Elton John, Burt Bacharach, Billy Joel, Donald Fagen & Walter Becker, Jimmy Webb, Carole King - throw Cole Porter and Jerome Kern in there too, while you're at it. The pantheon of popular music is filled with great musicians. Many very successful hit writers are tremendously accomplished instrumentalists. (Ever seen Jeffrey Steele play guitar? Brad Paisley?) Simplicity is a beautiful aspect of pop music, but simplicity doesn't mean you shouldn't have many options to choose from as you craft your simple song.
Now, of course being a great musician does NOT make you a great songwriter. But if music is your chosen means of expression, why minimize the importance of understanding it? I'm amazed when I hear very prominent people in the MUSIC industry talk about music as if it were an afterthought. Yes, you can't deny the importance of a well-crafted, conversational lyric. But it's a mistake to diminish the importance of a great melody, instrumental hook, or killer groove. You increase your ability to create each of those things when you develop your level of musicianship.
I see it as my mission as an educator to make this point over and over again. To reinforce that striving for simplicity is not the same as choosing to be limited. That knowledge and skill increase creative freedom....and most of all that developing musicianship - both in skill on an instrument and aural sophistication as a listener and creator - is absolutely a part of improving your songwriting.
Perhaps the person I quoted above didn't mean what I took him to mean, but the point still stands. Never stop learning, never stop improving - in EVERY aspect of your creative and musical life.
"Have you spent years working on your song craft, or on musicianship? Practicing guitar doesn't count toward songwriting all that much, unless of course you're learning the chords you'll need to write the songs."
In fairness, I'm taking this statement out of context. But it was part of a longer essay about long-term commitment to songwriting, and if I'm reading him right he's suggesting that song craft and musicianship are mutually exclusive areas. The following sentence does seem to reinforce that impression, the "unless of course" notwithstanding.
Odd that the founder of a company that helps writers place songs with producers, film supervisors, artists, and more - in a wide variety of genres - would suggest that musicianship is not a part of songcraft. Musicianship is much more than how many scales you know or how fast you can play - it's an understanding of how to speak the language, and developing fluency in a variety of dialects (styles). Yet some in the music business seem to take the attitude that this fluency in the language of music isn't important to the process of songwriting.
We can all think of those simple, perfect songs - like the old cliché goes, "three chords and the truth". This is the foundation of pop music, it's true. But the Beatles wrote great pop music using a lot more than three chords. So did Elton John, Burt Bacharach, Billy Joel, Donald Fagen & Walter Becker, Jimmy Webb, Carole King - throw Cole Porter and Jerome Kern in there too, while you're at it. The pantheon of popular music is filled with great musicians. Many very successful hit writers are tremendously accomplished instrumentalists. (Ever seen Jeffrey Steele play guitar? Brad Paisley?) Simplicity is a beautiful aspect of pop music, but simplicity doesn't mean you shouldn't have many options to choose from as you craft your simple song.
Now, of course being a great musician does NOT make you a great songwriter. But if music is your chosen means of expression, why minimize the importance of understanding it? I'm amazed when I hear very prominent people in the MUSIC industry talk about music as if it were an afterthought. Yes, you can't deny the importance of a well-crafted, conversational lyric. But it's a mistake to diminish the importance of a great melody, instrumental hook, or killer groove. You increase your ability to create each of those things when you develop your level of musicianship.
I see it as my mission as an educator to make this point over and over again. To reinforce that striving for simplicity is not the same as choosing to be limited. That knowledge and skill increase creative freedom....and most of all that developing musicianship - both in skill on an instrument and aural sophistication as a listener and creator - is absolutely a part of improving your songwriting.
Perhaps the person I quoted above didn't mean what I took him to mean, but the point still stands. Never stop learning, never stop improving - in EVERY aspect of your creative and musical life.
Technique and Tone
I had a student recently ask me, "is this the most important thing I should be learning right now?"
We were talking about pick technique in a very fundamental way: how to hold the pick, how to move to strike the string. This student was not a beginner and already able to play, so she obviously knew how to do these things already. There's so much time to devote to practicing to begin with, so I can understand her wondering why we were returning to something so basic.
If you think of when you first picked up a guitar, you probably didn't give a whole lot of thought to the mechanics of how you pluck a string - you wanted to learn play a song. And that's an appropriate mindset in the beginning: the desire and enthusiasm are the most crucial part, and the music is what drives it. Yes, you have to crawl before you can walk, but the sooner you get to making real music the more enjoyment you get from playing the instrument....let's face it, to most people there's nothing sexy about scales and finger exercises. All that stuff is a means to an end, and many students see mechanics and exercises as a necessary frustration they want to get past as quickly as possible.
But let's deconstruct a little. Let's say you can play the guitar, maybe not as well as you might like but you can get by. You have a vocabulary of chords, rhythms, and songs, and you might even be a seasoned performer. You know what works and what you can put across, but you also know there's more you could learn to do. So where do you go from here?
Everything we know how to do on the guitar is based upon muscle memory. We learn patterns and repeat them until the fingers go where they need to go on command. This is the way most people think of practicing, and there's no escaping this part of the process if you're trying to learn something new. But there's another aspect that I think gets lost easily, and it's based on one simple idea. Playing well means knowing what you want your hands to do, and having the ability to get them to do it...so we need to develop greater precision, not just more vocabulary. This is what technique is really about: not speed or flash necessarily, but control.
This control and precision helps your physical ability to make the guitar "speak": not just to make a sound but to produce the best quality tone you can. We'll define quality tone in terms of clarity, presence, and resonance....but all that really means is that the guitar sounds good. Good tone has mojo, that magical ability to transport the listener with a single note.
Tone comes from the way the string is struck....from a balanced relationship between force applied and sound produced. There's no magic formula to figure this out, just your hands and ears.There are lots of variables: the gauge (or thickness) of the strings, the thickness (and therefore flexibility) of the pick, the size and shape of the guitar, and the size and shape of the player. Every guitar is going to respond differently, and a sensitive and aware player can adjust accordingly. It's perhaps obvious but worth mentioning that the instrument needs to be "set up" properly so that it's not too difficult to play but can produce a good tone....for a beginner, lower "action" (height of the strings) and lighter strings can make it much easier to hold the strings down. The physical size and shape of the instrument is important too, you'd be surprised at how many people struggle with playing guitars that are too big for them. Keep in mind that if you feel like you're working too hard, it's very possible that you are.
When you pay specific attention to the mechanics of technique, it's going to improve your precision. More precise technique means better sound, which is at the heart of everything we do on an instrument. Getting into technique in greater depth helps you produce more and different sounds, giving you more options and more possible choices at any given moment. As a creative artist, THIS is the fundamental goal: options and flexibility. We feel stagnant in any situation when we no longer see options and possibilities....developing technique allows us to have more ability than we might use in any particular situation, so options stay open and other possibilities always exist.
So the short answer to the question is yes: this IS the most important thing you could be learning right now.
We were talking about pick technique in a very fundamental way: how to hold the pick, how to move to strike the string. This student was not a beginner and already able to play, so she obviously knew how to do these things already. There's so much time to devote to practicing to begin with, so I can understand her wondering why we were returning to something so basic.
If you think of when you first picked up a guitar, you probably didn't give a whole lot of thought to the mechanics of how you pluck a string - you wanted to learn play a song. And that's an appropriate mindset in the beginning: the desire and enthusiasm are the most crucial part, and the music is what drives it. Yes, you have to crawl before you can walk, but the sooner you get to making real music the more enjoyment you get from playing the instrument....let's face it, to most people there's nothing sexy about scales and finger exercises. All that stuff is a means to an end, and many students see mechanics and exercises as a necessary frustration they want to get past as quickly as possible.
But let's deconstruct a little. Let's say you can play the guitar, maybe not as well as you might like but you can get by. You have a vocabulary of chords, rhythms, and songs, and you might even be a seasoned performer. You know what works and what you can put across, but you also know there's more you could learn to do. So where do you go from here?
Everything we know how to do on the guitar is based upon muscle memory. We learn patterns and repeat them until the fingers go where they need to go on command. This is the way most people think of practicing, and there's no escaping this part of the process if you're trying to learn something new. But there's another aspect that I think gets lost easily, and it's based on one simple idea. Playing well means knowing what you want your hands to do, and having the ability to get them to do it...so we need to develop greater precision, not just more vocabulary. This is what technique is really about: not speed or flash necessarily, but control.
This control and precision helps your physical ability to make the guitar "speak": not just to make a sound but to produce the best quality tone you can. We'll define quality tone in terms of clarity, presence, and resonance....but all that really means is that the guitar sounds good. Good tone has mojo, that magical ability to transport the listener with a single note.
Tone comes from the way the string is struck....from a balanced relationship between force applied and sound produced. There's no magic formula to figure this out, just your hands and ears.There are lots of variables: the gauge (or thickness) of the strings, the thickness (and therefore flexibility) of the pick, the size and shape of the guitar, and the size and shape of the player. Every guitar is going to respond differently, and a sensitive and aware player can adjust accordingly. It's perhaps obvious but worth mentioning that the instrument needs to be "set up" properly so that it's not too difficult to play but can produce a good tone....for a beginner, lower "action" (height of the strings) and lighter strings can make it much easier to hold the strings down. The physical size and shape of the instrument is important too, you'd be surprised at how many people struggle with playing guitars that are too big for them. Keep in mind that if you feel like you're working too hard, it's very possible that you are.
When you pay specific attention to the mechanics of technique, it's going to improve your precision. More precise technique means better sound, which is at the heart of everything we do on an instrument. Getting into technique in greater depth helps you produce more and different sounds, giving you more options and more possible choices at any given moment. As a creative artist, THIS is the fundamental goal: options and flexibility. We feel stagnant in any situation when we no longer see options and possibilities....developing technique allows us to have more ability than we might use in any particular situation, so options stay open and other possibilities always exist.
So the short answer to the question is yes: this IS the most important thing you could be learning right now.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Songwriter, Artist, or Musician?
I was a little surprised when I first moved to Nashville to be asked on more than one occasion whether I had come to be a songwriter, artist, or musician. It had never occurred to me that I was supposed to choose one of the three…to me these were interrelated roles - things we do - not identities or things we ARE.
Part of the problem is the way we define “artist” here in Nashville. We’ve gotten so “inside” in the way we think and speak that the work “artist” has come to mean “performer with industry backing” as opposed to “one who applies artistry”. I’ve written on this topic before, it’s kind of a pet peeve. If you create and do it with integrity, you are an artist. If your creativity produces a song, you are a songwriter. If you used music to create this song, you are a musician. Not all musicians are songwriters, but all songwriters are musicians. And all good musicians and songwriters are artists.
So let’s redefine that word “artist”. To be artistic is to take raw materials….be they in tangible, visual, or aural form….and put them together in some way to create something new. Because we all are distinct and unique individuals, no two people are likely to put those materials together in the same way. Our perspectives and methods come from our life experience, education (formal or informal), personal taste, and aesthetic judgment. When a body of work shows a common thread connecting the individual creations, we call that style.
Picasso painted in many styles over his long life, influenced by the work of others that came before him but creating something completely and sometimes shockingly new. Viewed as a total body of work, his explorations demonstrate an ever-evolving but always cohesive artistic sensibility. The simple line drawings of his later years look nothing like his early and most famous Cubist works, but in each phase of his career you can see the elements he was playing with to define that particular style.
The Beatles did the same thing in their much shorter creative period as a band. It’s a long way from “Twist and Shout” to “A Day In The Life”…but you can hear the metamorphosis from one year and one album to the next. Like Picasso, they took raw materials that already existed and put them together in a new and instantly recognizable way.
Obviously Picasso and the Beatles are examples of creativity and artistry at its peak. They were blessed with tremendous gifts and talent. But all of us, as we work with our own humble abilities, can look to them as examples of how far an exploration can go….and just how much room there is to create something totally new from the everyday. It’s a lofty goal, but did we come here to aim low? The teacher and author Marianne Williamson wrote (though I’m paraphrasing), “we do not serve our purpose in the universe by thinking small”.
So be an artist. Think big. Be musical in your songwriting and songful in your musicianship. It’s all part of the same journey we share and the process we love. It’s OK to have a focus….to be a writer first and a performer second, or a player first and a writer second….but know that these are all just parts that form a whole. And that’s a worthwhile goal….to be a whole artist.
Part of the problem is the way we define “artist” here in Nashville. We’ve gotten so “inside” in the way we think and speak that the work “artist” has come to mean “performer with industry backing” as opposed to “one who applies artistry”. I’ve written on this topic before, it’s kind of a pet peeve. If you create and do it with integrity, you are an artist. If your creativity produces a song, you are a songwriter. If you used music to create this song, you are a musician. Not all musicians are songwriters, but all songwriters are musicians. And all good musicians and songwriters are artists.
So let’s redefine that word “artist”. To be artistic is to take raw materials….be they in tangible, visual, or aural form….and put them together in some way to create something new. Because we all are distinct and unique individuals, no two people are likely to put those materials together in the same way. Our perspectives and methods come from our life experience, education (formal or informal), personal taste, and aesthetic judgment. When a body of work shows a common thread connecting the individual creations, we call that style.
Picasso painted in many styles over his long life, influenced by the work of others that came before him but creating something completely and sometimes shockingly new. Viewed as a total body of work, his explorations demonstrate an ever-evolving but always cohesive artistic sensibility. The simple line drawings of his later years look nothing like his early and most famous Cubist works, but in each phase of his career you can see the elements he was playing with to define that particular style.
The Beatles did the same thing in their much shorter creative period as a band. It’s a long way from “Twist and Shout” to “A Day In The Life”…but you can hear the metamorphosis from one year and one album to the next. Like Picasso, they took raw materials that already existed and put them together in a new and instantly recognizable way.
Obviously Picasso and the Beatles are examples of creativity and artistry at its peak. They were blessed with tremendous gifts and talent. But all of us, as we work with our own humble abilities, can look to them as examples of how far an exploration can go….and just how much room there is to create something totally new from the everyday. It’s a lofty goal, but did we come here to aim low? The teacher and author Marianne Williamson wrote (though I’m paraphrasing), “we do not serve our purpose in the universe by thinking small”.
So be an artist. Think big. Be musical in your songwriting and songful in your musicianship. It’s all part of the same journey we share and the process we love. It’s OK to have a focus….to be a writer first and a performer second, or a player first and a writer second….but know that these are all just parts that form a whole. And that’s a worthwhile goal….to be a whole artist.
The Guitar Summit is coming: why it’s important to a songwriter.
In one of my recent articles I pointed out that if you create music you are a musician. By extension of the same idea, if you create music on the guitar you are a guitarist. And so this article should be of interest to you, regardless of your skill level or years of experience.
I am coordinating a two-day guitar festival called the TSU Guitar Summit at Tennessee State University, where I teach guitar in the commercial music program, on the weekend of July 18 and 19. I’ve invited four other prominent instructors to join me in offering a variety of classes and workshops on a wide range of topics. It’s going to be a packed weekend about all things guitar and I hope it will be a source of inspiration and motivation for all in attendance. The program will have certain set courses but is designed to be flexible enough to adapt to the skill levels of the students. Best of all, because TSU is a public institution the tuition is very affordable - just $100 for the full weekend. Plus, after our expenses have been met all the rest of the income generated will go back to the University through the TSU Foundation, a 501(3) non-profit, helping to support public higher education in these days of belt-tightening and budget cuts.
Now, most songwriters rightly view the guitar as a tool, the vehicle we use to arrive at the song. Many of you probably don’t see the guitar playing as an end it itself. What possible benefit would an aspiring top-40 songwriter get out of a class on, say, solo jazz guitar arranging?
The answer is, more than you might think. I’ve chosen the most far-flung example to illustrate my point, but if we agree that increasing your musical knowledge is good for your writing then you may already see where I’m headed. In today’s musical world, where country songs incorporate 80’s rock guitar riffs and hip-hop songs might sample Miles Davis, “style” is becoming less and less relevant to creative people. We hear all the time these days about how the music business is changing, and the music is changing with it. New artists are creating new sounds and as songwriters it’s in our best interest to keep up.
Every new development in music has come from elements of existing styles combining in a new way: mountain music combined with gospel to create country, early rock & roll combined elements of country and blues among other styles, and every iconic artist that followed those early pioneers brought something new to the mix. As creative people, it’s an asset to understand this process…and more importantly, we can participate.
So back to the guitar and guitar classes. Taking a 90-minute workshop on blues styles might give you a window into how to bring more mud and grit into your songs. A country hotlicks class would give you a better sense of what those guys (and girls) on the other side of the studio glass are doing with your song, and maybe even help you come up with a signature riff - whether you can play it up to speed or not. And yes, the solo guitar arranging class could show you how the chords you know as static “box” forms can be split apart, broken down, and re-formed in a myriad of ways to create a world of new sounds.
In a nutshell, you don’t need to have a familiarity with these styles to learn something useful. You may not even have a specific interest in learning to play that style….but you probably do have an interest in learning how to inject new sounds and new ideas into your writing. If the guitar is your chosen vehicle then this event or one like it is an opportunity to open your ears and mind and spend a weekend absorbing new possibilities.
In addition to myself, the instructors at the Guitar Summit will be Gary Talley (well known to the writing community in Nashville as a founding member of the Box Tops and as an ace session musician, sideman, and of course songwriter), former Guitar Player Magazine senior editor Andy Ellis (now host of the soon-to-be syndicated radio program The Guitar Show), Mark Robinson (veteran blues and Americana sideman and a fine writer as well) and jazz chord-melody master Kent Gunderson. If you’d like to know more about the TSU Guitar Summit click this link: http://www.daveisaacs.com/teaching/TSUGuitarSummit.pdf
You can also email me directly with questions or for registration info at disaacs@tnstate.edu.
And even if you can’t make this event, keep an open mind and look for others. Don’t be intimidated by the guitar heads. With all due respect to players everywhere, there are those out there who have it backwards….guitar first, music second….as as creative people you already know that the tools serve the larger goal. So get pickin’!
I am coordinating a two-day guitar festival called the TSU Guitar Summit at Tennessee State University, where I teach guitar in the commercial music program, on the weekend of July 18 and 19. I’ve invited four other prominent instructors to join me in offering a variety of classes and workshops on a wide range of topics. It’s going to be a packed weekend about all things guitar and I hope it will be a source of inspiration and motivation for all in attendance. The program will have certain set courses but is designed to be flexible enough to adapt to the skill levels of the students. Best of all, because TSU is a public institution the tuition is very affordable - just $100 for the full weekend. Plus, after our expenses have been met all the rest of the income generated will go back to the University through the TSU Foundation, a 501(3) non-profit, helping to support public higher education in these days of belt-tightening and budget cuts.
Now, most songwriters rightly view the guitar as a tool, the vehicle we use to arrive at the song. Many of you probably don’t see the guitar playing as an end it itself. What possible benefit would an aspiring top-40 songwriter get out of a class on, say, solo jazz guitar arranging?
The answer is, more than you might think. I’ve chosen the most far-flung example to illustrate my point, but if we agree that increasing your musical knowledge is good for your writing then you may already see where I’m headed. In today’s musical world, where country songs incorporate 80’s rock guitar riffs and hip-hop songs might sample Miles Davis, “style” is becoming less and less relevant to creative people. We hear all the time these days about how the music business is changing, and the music is changing with it. New artists are creating new sounds and as songwriters it’s in our best interest to keep up.
Every new development in music has come from elements of existing styles combining in a new way: mountain music combined with gospel to create country, early rock & roll combined elements of country and blues among other styles, and every iconic artist that followed those early pioneers brought something new to the mix. As creative people, it’s an asset to understand this process…and more importantly, we can participate.
So back to the guitar and guitar classes. Taking a 90-minute workshop on blues styles might give you a window into how to bring more mud and grit into your songs. A country hotlicks class would give you a better sense of what those guys (and girls) on the other side of the studio glass are doing with your song, and maybe even help you come up with a signature riff - whether you can play it up to speed or not. And yes, the solo guitar arranging class could show you how the chords you know as static “box” forms can be split apart, broken down, and re-formed in a myriad of ways to create a world of new sounds.
In a nutshell, you don’t need to have a familiarity with these styles to learn something useful. You may not even have a specific interest in learning to play that style….but you probably do have an interest in learning how to inject new sounds and new ideas into your writing. If the guitar is your chosen vehicle then this event or one like it is an opportunity to open your ears and mind and spend a weekend absorbing new possibilities.
In addition to myself, the instructors at the Guitar Summit will be Gary Talley (well known to the writing community in Nashville as a founding member of the Box Tops and as an ace session musician, sideman, and of course songwriter), former Guitar Player Magazine senior editor Andy Ellis (now host of the soon-to-be syndicated radio program The Guitar Show), Mark Robinson (veteran blues and Americana sideman and a fine writer as well) and jazz chord-melody master Kent Gunderson. If you’d like to know more about the TSU Guitar Summit click this link: http://www.daveisaacs.com/teaching/TSUGuitarSummit.pdf
You can also email me directly with questions or for registration info at disaacs@tnstate.edu.
And even if you can’t make this event, keep an open mind and look for others. Don’t be intimidated by the guitar heads. With all due respect to players everywhere, there are those out there who have it backwards….guitar first, music second….as as creative people you already know that the tools serve the larger goal. So get pickin’!
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Software review: Guitar Alchemist 1.21
(free download available from CNet.com at http://tinyurl.com/q3vqf3)
I've been exploring the free version of Guitar Alchemist, a program that shows how different chords and scales lay in different locations on the fretboard. There are many resources like this out there, both in software and print formats, and while the information is almost always useful the real test is how practically it's presented. From that perspective, in my opinion Guitar Alchemist is well-organized and a nice free tool.
Let me say at the outset that I'm a click-by-click learner when it comes to software.....I tend to like programs that I can learn by just diving in and trying things rather than having to go to the manual. I did find this program is very user-friendly in that it took less than a minute of looking at the interface to get a sense of where things are and what the various buttons do.
The basic layout is a fretboard at the top of the screen, oriented in tab fashion: that is, upside down (with the bass strings on the bottom) and with low-to-high reading left to right. This is one of the more common layouts you're likely to see in other similar resources, and is something that's worth getting used to if you're not familiar with it. Some people have difficulty getting their brains to process this visually, but in my opinion it's the closest thing to what you actually see when you look down at the instrument. Even the upside-down part becomes less of an issue when you realize that having the lowest SOUNDING string at the bottom makes a lot of sense.....remember, one of the major hurdles in mastering the guitar is getting past the disconnect between the sounds and the things your fingers have to do to produce them.
Note: the left-to-right layout might be off-putting to left-handed players. The full version may have a left-handed layout option, but in my opinion so many guitar resources do use this layout that it's worth getting used to. The audio element of the program is really helpful here.....you can click on a fret and hear the note, so spending some time clicking fret-by-fret along a single string will help you get oriented aurally. If your ears get it I do think the eyes will learn to follow....experienced music readers will tell you that they see contour (up vs. down) and intervals (moving by small steps or larger leaps) rather than individual note names. This is how you ultimately get past that disconnect I mentioned earlier: you eventually learn to just sidestep that part of the process.
Another nice audio feature is that you can actually hear what each chord sounds like, using the internal MIDI your computer probably already has. No other software or hardware is necessary, and you can choose from a variety of guitar, bass, and keyboard sounds (some better than others, but it’s a nice touch). Just choose “MIDI” from the drop-down menu at the top of the screen and a new window with a list of the different sounds appears.
Back to the layout. Underneath the fretboard image is a list of chord diagrams, organized by position (where on the sequence of frets the chord shape lies). When you click on one, the corresponding chord is highlighted on the fretboard, and if you have the audio on you’ll hear it in that voicing (note grouping). This is a great feature and very helpful in helping you connect sound and shape. To the left of the chord diagrams is a series of dialog boxes: you can choose chord root (letter name) and type (major, minor, suspended, 7th, etc). Above the chord diagrams are more options which filter the number of diagrams you see: which note is on top, whether open strings are included, and more. There is a simple vs. detailed view, but the detailed view is not available in the free version. I’m not sure the “detailed” view is all that important, as there’s plenty of detail already here.
At the bottom of the screen is musical notation of the scale being used to derive the chords. This is a more advanced topic but also a useful one. A tab in the middle of the screen allows you to switch from chord to scale view, and the notation vs. diagrams switch positions.
My favorite thing about the layout is the way the different notes of the chord are indicated by number, with the numbers corresponding to where that note fits in the corresponding scale. This is the way we classify chord tones anyhow: the “third” of a chord is the third note you reach if you start with the “root”, call that number 1, and follow the letters in sequence. So not only can you see how each note of the chord fits into the scale, you can click it and hear what it sounds like. This layout covers the entire fingerboard, which may be overwhelming at first but becomes much easier to follow when you work position by position – that is, three or four frets at a time. This is how I teach fretboard harmony: showing how the notes of the chord correspond to the scale, where the notes are located across the fretboard position by position, and showing how to get from point A to point B.
Make no mistake, this is a large task. Don’t look at this as a crash course, it’s more of a dictionary than a method. If you’re already working with a teacher they should be able to help you organize a way to work your way through all the information IF your goal is to get to know the whole guitar. (A VERY worthwhile goal, by the way). But you can also use this as a go-to resource to just quickly find a new way to play a C chord if the one you’re using isn’t working for you.
All in all I think Guitar Alchemist is a thoughtfully designed and useful tool, especially if you have someone to help guide you through the maze. A subsequent article will explore this process in more depth, along with the reasons why you ought to know your way around the fretboard and have multiple options for each chord. It’s no substitute for a good teacher but a good resource you can refer back to again and again. Not having had the opportunity to explore the paid upgrade, I can’t comment on the additional functions this may offer, but there’s so much here I’m not sure you need any more. Try it out and spend some time exploring.
I've been exploring the free version of Guitar Alchemist, a program that shows how different chords and scales lay in different locations on the fretboard. There are many resources like this out there, both in software and print formats, and while the information is almost always useful the real test is how practically it's presented. From that perspective, in my opinion Guitar Alchemist is well-organized and a nice free tool.
Let me say at the outset that I'm a click-by-click learner when it comes to software.....I tend to like programs that I can learn by just diving in and trying things rather than having to go to the manual. I did find this program is very user-friendly in that it took less than a minute of looking at the interface to get a sense of where things are and what the various buttons do.
The basic layout is a fretboard at the top of the screen, oriented in tab fashion: that is, upside down (with the bass strings on the bottom) and with low-to-high reading left to right. This is one of the more common layouts you're likely to see in other similar resources, and is something that's worth getting used to if you're not familiar with it. Some people have difficulty getting their brains to process this visually, but in my opinion it's the closest thing to what you actually see when you look down at the instrument. Even the upside-down part becomes less of an issue when you realize that having the lowest SOUNDING string at the bottom makes a lot of sense.....remember, one of the major hurdles in mastering the guitar is getting past the disconnect between the sounds and the things your fingers have to do to produce them.
Note: the left-to-right layout might be off-putting to left-handed players. The full version may have a left-handed layout option, but in my opinion so many guitar resources do use this layout that it's worth getting used to. The audio element of the program is really helpful here.....you can click on a fret and hear the note, so spending some time clicking fret-by-fret along a single string will help you get oriented aurally. If your ears get it I do think the eyes will learn to follow....experienced music readers will tell you that they see contour (up vs. down) and intervals (moving by small steps or larger leaps) rather than individual note names. This is how you ultimately get past that disconnect I mentioned earlier: you eventually learn to just sidestep that part of the process.
Another nice audio feature is that you can actually hear what each chord sounds like, using the internal MIDI your computer probably already has. No other software or hardware is necessary, and you can choose from a variety of guitar, bass, and keyboard sounds (some better than others, but it’s a nice touch). Just choose “MIDI” from the drop-down menu at the top of the screen and a new window with a list of the different sounds appears.
Back to the layout. Underneath the fretboard image is a list of chord diagrams, organized by position (where on the sequence of frets the chord shape lies). When you click on one, the corresponding chord is highlighted on the fretboard, and if you have the audio on you’ll hear it in that voicing (note grouping). This is a great feature and very helpful in helping you connect sound and shape. To the left of the chord diagrams is a series of dialog boxes: you can choose chord root (letter name) and type (major, minor, suspended, 7th, etc). Above the chord diagrams are more options which filter the number of diagrams you see: which note is on top, whether open strings are included, and more. There is a simple vs. detailed view, but the detailed view is not available in the free version. I’m not sure the “detailed” view is all that important, as there’s plenty of detail already here.
At the bottom of the screen is musical notation of the scale being used to derive the chords. This is a more advanced topic but also a useful one. A tab in the middle of the screen allows you to switch from chord to scale view, and the notation vs. diagrams switch positions.
My favorite thing about the layout is the way the different notes of the chord are indicated by number, with the numbers corresponding to where that note fits in the corresponding scale. This is the way we classify chord tones anyhow: the “third” of a chord is the third note you reach if you start with the “root”, call that number 1, and follow the letters in sequence. So not only can you see how each note of the chord fits into the scale, you can click it and hear what it sounds like. This layout covers the entire fingerboard, which may be overwhelming at first but becomes much easier to follow when you work position by position – that is, three or four frets at a time. This is how I teach fretboard harmony: showing how the notes of the chord correspond to the scale, where the notes are located across the fretboard position by position, and showing how to get from point A to point B.
Make no mistake, this is a large task. Don’t look at this as a crash course, it’s more of a dictionary than a method. If you’re already working with a teacher they should be able to help you organize a way to work your way through all the information IF your goal is to get to know the whole guitar. (A VERY worthwhile goal, by the way). But you can also use this as a go-to resource to just quickly find a new way to play a C chord if the one you’re using isn’t working for you.
All in all I think Guitar Alchemist is a thoughtfully designed and useful tool, especially if you have someone to help guide you through the maze. A subsequent article will explore this process in more depth, along with the reasons why you ought to know your way around the fretboard and have multiple options for each chord. It’s no substitute for a good teacher but a good resource you can refer back to again and again. Not having had the opportunity to explore the paid upgrade, I can’t comment on the additional functions this may offer, but there’s so much here I’m not sure you need any more. Try it out and spend some time exploring.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Traps
Susan Tucker’s recent “My Mistakes” article in the Songwriters E-Tip got me thinking about common mistakes that people make when trying to learn to play an instrument. These are observations I’ve made over the years both in my own experience as a student (which is still ongoing, make no mistake!) and as a teacher.
First and probably the most important: don’t underestimate the commitment! Learning to play well, and especially improving your skills when you already do play, requires daily practice. No way around it: you may have reached your current level of skill by just playing around when you felt like it, but at some point you WILL hit a wall. We all do….and most people who come to me for lessons feel that they’ve hit that wall. You get over the wall by making a real commitment to daily practice.
The opposite and equally important thing to remember: no goal is too modest. The way to progress is to set a series of small, achievable goals. This is why you go to a teacher in the first place, to help you set those goals….and a good teacher will be able to set goals that are in reach but just far enough ahead of you to help you grow toward them. Remember point number one, though: even modest goals can only be achieved through committed effort.
Number three: know the difference between playing and practicing. “Playing” is doing what you already know how to do….”practicing” is working at something you can’t do yet. And as you might imagine, there’s a right way and a wrong way, which leads us to number four….the right way to practice.
In keeping with the idea of setting and staying focused on modest goals: if your short-term goals are appropriately focused, they WILL be attainable with proper focus. That means you practice slowly with complete concentration. We’re talking about training muscle groups to follow mental instructions…..if you move slowly, you will be able to move your hands and fingers accurately. Accuracy is MUCH more important than speed at this point, in fact speed is counterproductive when you first start practicing something new. If you don’t focus on accuracy and your aim is fuzzy, you are actually training your muscles to be sloppy. Speed will always come with time if you practice properly.
Number five: trust your teacher and don’t try too hard to direct the lessons. If you really have a sense that the person you’re working with isn’t taking you down the right path, share your concern….but don’t try to micromanage the experience. If you’ve made a good choice in who to work with, your teacher will have a big-picture view that you probably don’t. An organized lesson program follows a sequence, there’s a method to the madness. Find someone you trust and follow their instructions. You’ll know in a few weeks (or less) if it’s working for you or not.
I always strive to be as positive as possible in lessons….when a student comes in and admits to not having had time to practice, I stay encouraging and use the lesson time to go over the material for that week. But I try to be clear that putting in the time with the right mindset is the path to success. So to sum up:
1. MAKE the commitment.
2. KEEP the long view and BE PATIENT!
3. SET modest goals and work on them with focus and discipline.
4. CELEBRATE small achievements! Every step is one step closer.
5. TRUST the process and the perspective of people with more experience.
You CAN make the progress you want, and it starts with the right mindset.
First and probably the most important: don’t underestimate the commitment! Learning to play well, and especially improving your skills when you already do play, requires daily practice. No way around it: you may have reached your current level of skill by just playing around when you felt like it, but at some point you WILL hit a wall. We all do….and most people who come to me for lessons feel that they’ve hit that wall. You get over the wall by making a real commitment to daily practice.
The opposite and equally important thing to remember: no goal is too modest. The way to progress is to set a series of small, achievable goals. This is why you go to a teacher in the first place, to help you set those goals….and a good teacher will be able to set goals that are in reach but just far enough ahead of you to help you grow toward them. Remember point number one, though: even modest goals can only be achieved through committed effort.
Number three: know the difference between playing and practicing. “Playing” is doing what you already know how to do….”practicing” is working at something you can’t do yet. And as you might imagine, there’s a right way and a wrong way, which leads us to number four….the right way to practice.
In keeping with the idea of setting and staying focused on modest goals: if your short-term goals are appropriately focused, they WILL be attainable with proper focus. That means you practice slowly with complete concentration. We’re talking about training muscle groups to follow mental instructions…..if you move slowly, you will be able to move your hands and fingers accurately. Accuracy is MUCH more important than speed at this point, in fact speed is counterproductive when you first start practicing something new. If you don’t focus on accuracy and your aim is fuzzy, you are actually training your muscles to be sloppy. Speed will always come with time if you practice properly.
Number five: trust your teacher and don’t try too hard to direct the lessons. If you really have a sense that the person you’re working with isn’t taking you down the right path, share your concern….but don’t try to micromanage the experience. If you’ve made a good choice in who to work with, your teacher will have a big-picture view that you probably don’t. An organized lesson program follows a sequence, there’s a method to the madness. Find someone you trust and follow their instructions. You’ll know in a few weeks (or less) if it’s working for you or not.
I always strive to be as positive as possible in lessons….when a student comes in and admits to not having had time to practice, I stay encouraging and use the lesson time to go over the material for that week. But I try to be clear that putting in the time with the right mindset is the path to success. So to sum up:
1. MAKE the commitment.
2. KEEP the long view and BE PATIENT!
3. SET modest goals and work on them with focus and discipline.
4. CELEBRATE small achievements! Every step is one step closer.
5. TRUST the process and the perspective of people with more experience.
You CAN make the progress you want, and it starts with the right mindset.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Inspiration and Craft
Reproduced from the Songwriters E-Tip, 4/17/09. SongConnection@aol.com
My composition teacher in college once told a story about a woman who approached him at a party. She was very taken with the idea of his being a composer, and asked if he liked to walk in the woods before he wrote music. He laughed and responded, what for? "For inspiration," she answered, and he laughed again even as he told the story.
The notion of the artist that creates only when the spirit moves them is about as far removed as you can get from the ethos of professional songwriting. My teacher's response to the woman's question was that every day he sat down at the piano to work at 9 AM, broke for lunch at noon, and returned to work through the afternoon. This is the work ethic and method of many a professional songwriter today, not to mention most of the great composers and writers throughout the history of both classical and popular music. It's unquestionably a good method for developing craft and discipline as a writer. But how DO you cultivate inspiration, and is it even important to writing good pop music?
We should take a moment to define "inspiration". It can be in the melody that's playing in your head when you wake up one morning (as once happened to Paul McCartney....the tune became "Yesterday"). It can be in the "aha!" moment when you find the one word that ties the entire song together. Or it can be in the phrase that you hear in a passing conversation that starts the gears spinning. In all of these cases the writer is looking, asking, or reaching for the raw materials that feed the process of songcraft. Perhaps they aren't consciously looking at all....but many writers will tell you, a songwriter is always looking.
I was told once by a musician I have been a fan of for years that he found it important to make time to step away from working on his music. That it was sometimes more valuable to get out of your writers room into the world to gather those raw nuggets of inspiration, the seeds that with care and discipline can be cultivated into fully realized songs. I think he made an important point: that to write with a truthful voice about the world we do need to live in it. Sometimes we need to stop trying to create and just take time to quietly observe and to listen. Given the intensity with which so many of us pursue our career goals, this can be a real challenge....but if your ideas start to feel stale or forced it's probably time for a change in perspective or a change of scenery. It's also worth considering that a lack of inspiration may be a sign that some other element of your life has become stagnant: that the flow of ideas has ceased because something else is blocking it.
From a musical perspective, finding inspiration can be as simple as listening to some new sounds. A composer/producer friend of mine would unwind from a session by putting on ambient music that was so subtle as to almost be white noise. He said it was like a palate-cleansing for his ears, a way to step away from the music he had been working with and then return to it with a fresh perspective. If you play a musical instrument, use one of the myriad of resources available on the internet to learn something new today. Or take a lesson with someone, even if it's just one, to stimulate another way of thinking about your work. If you don't play an instrument, vocalize and just listen to the sound of your voice. In a safe environment where you can make all kinds of noise without being self-conscious, explore what your voice naturally likes to do. Even if you don't consider yourself a singer you can learn a lot by tuning in and listening to both the sound and feeling of your voice as you allow it to simply make sounds. This becomes a great tool for writing melodies: you don't have to be a strong singer to learn to use your voice to express up and down or low and high.
To answer the original question: inspiration IS important, but not in the sense that the woman who approached my teacher meant it. Inspiration is the spark that keeps us excited about what we do, and motivated enough to apply our craft to the ideas it gives rise to. Seek it in its absence, and celebrate its arrival. And even if there are no woods to walk in, there are many ways to find it....and when you do, take what you've found and get to work!
My composition teacher in college once told a story about a woman who approached him at a party. She was very taken with the idea of his being a composer, and asked if he liked to walk in the woods before he wrote music. He laughed and responded, what for? "For inspiration," she answered, and he laughed again even as he told the story.
The notion of the artist that creates only when the spirit moves them is about as far removed as you can get from the ethos of professional songwriting. My teacher's response to the woman's question was that every day he sat down at the piano to work at 9 AM, broke for lunch at noon, and returned to work through the afternoon. This is the work ethic and method of many a professional songwriter today, not to mention most of the great composers and writers throughout the history of both classical and popular music. It's unquestionably a good method for developing craft and discipline as a writer. But how DO you cultivate inspiration, and is it even important to writing good pop music?
We should take a moment to define "inspiration". It can be in the melody that's playing in your head when you wake up one morning (as once happened to Paul McCartney....the tune became "Yesterday"). It can be in the "aha!" moment when you find the one word that ties the entire song together. Or it can be in the phrase that you hear in a passing conversation that starts the gears spinning. In all of these cases the writer is looking, asking, or reaching for the raw materials that feed the process of songcraft. Perhaps they aren't consciously looking at all....but many writers will tell you, a songwriter is always looking.
I was told once by a musician I have been a fan of for years that he found it important to make time to step away from working on his music. That it was sometimes more valuable to get out of your writers room into the world to gather those raw nuggets of inspiration, the seeds that with care and discipline can be cultivated into fully realized songs. I think he made an important point: that to write with a truthful voice about the world we do need to live in it. Sometimes we need to stop trying to create and just take time to quietly observe and to listen. Given the intensity with which so many of us pursue our career goals, this can be a real challenge....but if your ideas start to feel stale or forced it's probably time for a change in perspective or a change of scenery. It's also worth considering that a lack of inspiration may be a sign that some other element of your life has become stagnant: that the flow of ideas has ceased because something else is blocking it.
From a musical perspective, finding inspiration can be as simple as listening to some new sounds. A composer/producer friend of mine would unwind from a session by putting on ambient music that was so subtle as to almost be white noise. He said it was like a palate-cleansing for his ears, a way to step away from the music he had been working with and then return to it with a fresh perspective. If you play a musical instrument, use one of the myriad of resources available on the internet to learn something new today. Or take a lesson with someone, even if it's just one, to stimulate another way of thinking about your work. If you don't play an instrument, vocalize and just listen to the sound of your voice. In a safe environment where you can make all kinds of noise without being self-conscious, explore what your voice naturally likes to do. Even if you don't consider yourself a singer you can learn a lot by tuning in and listening to both the sound and feeling of your voice as you allow it to simply make sounds. This becomes a great tool for writing melodies: you don't have to be a strong singer to learn to use your voice to express up and down or low and high.
To answer the original question: inspiration IS important, but not in the sense that the woman who approached my teacher meant it. Inspiration is the spark that keeps us excited about what we do, and motivated enough to apply our craft to the ideas it gives rise to. Seek it in its absence, and celebrate its arrival. And even if there are no woods to walk in, there are many ways to find it....and when you do, take what you've found and get to work!
Monday, February 16, 2009
Commitment and the Long View
If you're made the big move to Nashville or are even considering the option, you have made a commitment to music. Whether your goal is to become a hit songwriter, an artist, or a working professional musician, achieving that goal requires a commitment to the path you've chosen. We've all heard many times over that building a career takes time, and that there's no such thing as an overnight success. I think that's absolutely true. But I also believe that there are different levels of commitment, and if you're serious about your career it's important to answer this question: what are you committed to, the goal or the process of achieving it?
The distinction is crucial. I think that committing to the process leads to limitless growth and the continual expansion and realization of potential. It means recognizing your strengths and weaknesses, and always looking for ways to improve both. It's a tall order and a lifelong process, but it also means that there is always something new to dig into and get excited about.
When it comes to playing an instrument, this idea is at the heart of why so many people get "stuck". It's important to realize that your ability to learn and grow is not about your level of talent (an unmeasurable and unhelpful thing to focus on anyway) but your level of commitment. Directly tied in with this idea is the acceptance of a long-term view: that large goals may not be attainable in a short time, but an ongoing series of short-term goals WILL gradually move you forward. Over time, those small accomplishments add up....and even more importantly, they build upon and reinforce each other so that progress becomes exponential and not just sequential. We grow in leaps and bounds when we stick it out long enough for the process to happen.
Practically speaking: if you want to learn to play your instrument better, you make the commitment to practice. But recognize what you have room for in your day-to-day life and adjust your expectations accordingly. If all you have time for on a regular basis is five minutes a day, then commit to five minutes a day. It may not seem like a lot, but over six months or a year you'd be amazed at how much you can accomplish. The continued reinforcement of daily practice is a powerful thing. But the long-term effect is even more powerful, especially when we give ourselves permission to allow the process to unfold....when we make the commitment to allow it to happen.
The distinction is crucial. I think that committing to the process leads to limitless growth and the continual expansion and realization of potential. It means recognizing your strengths and weaknesses, and always looking for ways to improve both. It's a tall order and a lifelong process, but it also means that there is always something new to dig into and get excited about.
When it comes to playing an instrument, this idea is at the heart of why so many people get "stuck". It's important to realize that your ability to learn and grow is not about your level of talent (an unmeasurable and unhelpful thing to focus on anyway) but your level of commitment. Directly tied in with this idea is the acceptance of a long-term view: that large goals may not be attainable in a short time, but an ongoing series of short-term goals WILL gradually move you forward. Over time, those small accomplishments add up....and even more importantly, they build upon and reinforce each other so that progress becomes exponential and not just sequential. We grow in leaps and bounds when we stick it out long enough for the process to happen.
Practically speaking: if you want to learn to play your instrument better, you make the commitment to practice. But recognize what you have room for in your day-to-day life and adjust your expectations accordingly. If all you have time for on a regular basis is five minutes a day, then commit to five minutes a day. It may not seem like a lot, but over six months or a year you'd be amazed at how much you can accomplish. The continued reinforcement of daily practice is a powerful thing. But the long-term effect is even more powerful, especially when we give ourselves permission to allow the process to unfold....when we make the commitment to allow it to happen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
