The Perception of the Copycat

In late summer of 2010 I took over drumming duties in TD from a friend of mine. He'd had enough of band drama and I think he wanted to take his life in another direction. I offered to take over on a whim. It was one of those odd moments in life when I didn't even question if I could do it or if I SHOULD do it...I just did it. I think just to keep the band from imploding, they gave me an "audition" and I got the job. This is strange because it happens every so often...I just decide to join a band on a whim and have no worries about it. Conversely, there are just as many or more groups where I fret and sell myself short...I say things like "I'm probably not good enough but if you wanna take a chance." Shockingly, I don't get call backs on those gigs.

Anyway, when I took the job my only intention was to copy the drum parts as closely as I could to the originals. This was a little tough, because I was stepping into the shoes of a self-taught, unconventional drummer. I'm mostly self-taught too...but I kind of operate in a very standard framework. Not so for my predecessor. But I tried my best to copy him. And I thought I did a decent job.

But all along the band has said things like "I really like what you've done with the drum part" or "this song has a whole new feel with you playing drums." This frustrated me because my goal was to just copy the old way. This meant I was either failing in that...or that someone was blowing smoke up my ass (my default assumption about all compliments...I HAVE ISSUES).

This morning I listened to the first album by the group because we are adding back in two old songs from that disc that I haven't done much with them. I was surprised to find that, yes, I DO play most of the songs significantly differently from the old drummer. I had no idea. There are parts that I would have sworn that I stole from him that just don't exist. And he plays stuff I've never played. Me skipping things he did doesn't surprise me, because it was hard unconventional stuff that I just couldn't pull off at the time. But the adding of things that weren't there to begin with surprises me. I know that I didn't do it on purpose. There was no grand creative vision. It just happened because it felt natural to do...and so I guess I assumed that it was already there.  Not to blow my own horn, but the upshot I think IS actually better than the original. I've left out busy sections that distracted from the vocal or other parts and I've added things that add interest (particularly on the bass drum). The bass drum is interesting, because the first album had no bass guitar. But when I came into the group, we had a pretty dominant bass player. My right foot naturally just did what the bass player was doing without me realizing it.

I don't know what to make of all of this except:
1) Apparently I have my own style even though I didn't think I did
2) Without trying, I seem to make "musical" choices that support the group. Whether this is because I can't play complicated things or if it is an instinct built on years of playing music I don't know
3) Now I'm super worried that all those Pixies bass lines that I thought I was playing note-for-note from the original could be TOTALLY WRONG. I can't decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

Guitar

As long as I can remember I've wanted to play guitar.  For most of my life this manifested as an interest in playing acoustic guitar only and ranged from just wanting to chord along to wanting to play two line parts fingerstyle (which I actually started learning to do in the mid-1990s...I can't imagine trying any of those songs now). I was never really interested in electric guitar or in effects or any of that.

But somewhere along the way I figured out that things that are really hard on acoustic guitar (like barre chords) are really easy on electric. And that made me want to play electric more. But when I play electric it always just kind of sounds lame.

A few years ago I bought a Marshall digital effects modelling amp on a whim.  It's design was kind of shitty though and it didn't really do what I wanted it to do.  I ended up selling it (something I rarely do). Then about a year ago someone gave me a multi-effect pedal. This too...poorly designed, hard to use, and didn't do what I wanted.

For about 3 years now there's been this little 1.5 Watt Vox amp sitting in the GRC storage. It was battery operated and looked broken. Everyone ignored it. I'm pretty sure it got throw around a few times...maybe even kicked. It really just looked like garbage. Finally, this summer I decided to take it home and see if it worked at all. Not only does it work...it is the best amp I've ever played through. It has tons of effects that are easy to use and sound great.  To me, it sounds better and more powerful than a 30 watt amp. Bonus, I found the power adapter for it. It quickly went from the worst amp that camp owned to the best. And now I'm hiding it.

Things that I've never understood before about electric guitar and effects are beginning to make sense.  Palm muting...other stuff. How different effects work and how you use them.  I've been depressed lately and it occurred to me that something to shake me out of my rut might be to take some electric guitar lessons. But last night I was goofing with the Vox and figured out about a dozen miracle concepts all on my own. Game changers.  And then it occurred to me...

...really I just need to play more.

Not "practice". Just play. Hold the thing in my hands and fuck around. Try stuff that doesn't even make any sense. I've been trying to make this so structured...memorize scales, memorize chord patterns...but none of that even really matters. Just make noise. The stuff that sounds good...do it again. The stuff that sounds bad...try not to do it again. For sure there are things I could benefit from, like basic pick control exercises...but most of it is just unstructured play.

Anyway, who knows if I'll go anywhere with it...follow through at all.  But it is a revelation to think about approaching something not from the perspective of "trying to do it right and get better" but instead from the "fuck up a whole bunch until something sounds cool" perspective.

The Central Issue

I've often said, as many people have, that being in a band is like being in a group marriage. All the same issues come up minus sex...hopes, dreams, values, money, time management, personalities, communication styles.

I've also come to believe in recent years that all conflict rises out of fear. Deep seated fears about keeping what we have and about our self-worth...all the us and them stuff...it all gets down to fear. Fear feeds sadness and anger and pretty much everything else. But no one likes to admit that they are afraid...and many people don't even realize that they are afraid.

I'm insecure about my musical abilities...which makes me fear rejection. I also often feel that people don't understand my communication style...which makes me fear they will not understand me and reject me. And these things lead to conflict often. I, at least, am aware of my "stuff"...it is frustrating when other people...who all have their own stuff...aren't aware that they have stuff. Then they just think you are crazy.

Music is such a hard thing to share with other people because it is so personal. It is attached to feelings. Maybe there are folks who play music out of a mechanical exercise with no emotional investment, but I've yet to meet those people. Mostly...we're invested. And when you are invested, there is a fear in there somewhere.

Overlay on top of this the fact that music is a language essentially...but it is a language that everyone speaks differently. Imagine two people who both know English. But one person can only write it and one person can only speak it. Or one person can read while the other can only learn new words by hearing them. Drop on top of that a regional dialect...words that person A knows are words that person B has never heard and doesn't know the meaning of. Drop on top of THAT...maybe one person went to Yale and got a PhD in English while the other person never finished high school. Yet...person A is totally invested in their way as the only way and can't imagine reality not matching their experience. Person B feels the same way about THEIR experience.

So you end up with two people...who in theory both know English...but who can't communicate with each other. And this makes them question themselves (whether they realize it or not)...and get angry or frustrated with the other person...or any of the other fear based reactions one might have.

In an ideal world, we'd all just be curious how interesting it is that we are all the same and yet so different. We'd want to learn more about that. Instead, we tend to dig our heels in and defend our own position.

I keep thinking that I can get over these issues and learn to communicate better and to be more open and to not feel threatened and to not let my fear take over. And yet, the same problems come up again and again.

The life thing...the people thing...it is hard.

Influences

Nick hits it on the nail yet again. What a guy. Sigh.

The other day there was a joke fest going on about all of us who play crazy punk rock type stuff now who grew up listening to ridiculous soft rock or mainstream drivel or what-have-you.  It is also regularly true that, at CJ rehearsal, someone will mention this or that band in a "well of course everyone knows this band or this album" and my answer 100% of the time is "I've heard of them, but have no idea what they sound like." This is always met with total disbelief and a not-so-subtle sense of "well you really kind of suck."

How this happened I do not know. I bought 2 cds a week in the summers of 1990 and 1991. This is the basis of my frame of reference...and yet I don't even know half the bands in the genres that I was glued to from those summers. My music collection now is 100s deep...but I know almost nothing. I had big brothers with great taste and also was glued to my radio throughout the 70s and 80s. But until a few years ago I could not have even told apart AC/DC, Led Zep, and The Who. I can tell them apart now only because you really can't take rock drum lessons and not learn that.

I think that my musical background is narrow...but deep. I know a great deal about the bands that I know about...and I know nothing else.

I really don't know how it is that people read every comic book, watched every movie, and listened to every album that ever came out. And still have time to know about cars or their jobs or educations or what have you. Clearly I mis-spent my youth daydreaming about cute girls.

Anyway...who are my song-writing or instrument-playing influences? Fuck I don't think I have any. I steal what I can but basically do whatever comes out. It's probably a mis-mash and I barely understand enough to even be ABLE to copy others.

The Things We All Face

There are so many things about this post that I love.

Lately

Last night CJ practiced for the first time in a while and for the first time in a while when we didn't have a solid goal in mind. We tried playing through lots of songs that we haven't played in months...or even over a year.  I was surprised to find that these had fallen out of my memory banks. They are easy to get back...but for awhile there I thought I'd never forget how to play any of these songs...but I guess there are limits.

On the flipside of memory, I've got all but one ska tune memorized with a week to spare before the show. I'll be bearing down on the last one over the next few days. I suspect I'll get it.  The band, it turns out, needs to discuss goals as they seem to vary amongst us. Seven people are a bunch of people to get on the same page. I'm less worried than I thought I'd be about what will happen. This whole thing turned out to be a terrifying exposure to music that I thought was beyond me...and it turns out that it isn't. Individual songs will continue to be a challenge as we move along...but I've proven to myself that I can handle it. It almost feels like it doesn't matter what else happens now. A strange kind of goal has been reached for me.

CJ also talked hopes and dreams last night...and I've finally decided to push us a bit on accomplishing those things. Inertia is hard. I think the goals are very reasonable and attainable though...just one of us needs to push a bit and I guess I'm accepting that I will have to be the one. I'm ok with this because it is something worth working hard for.

The other three groups I'm just not too worried about. I wish rehearsals all around for all of my bands were more regular...I don't like having down time...but I'm not that concerned about outcomes at the moment oddly enough...other than the previously stated outcomes with CJ.

I do have some personal anxiety that I'm working through lately in life in general and I'm trying to figure out where applying myself more in my music will help and where backing off and relaxing more will help. It is a balancing act for sure.

Being a Rawk Star

I've been a poo-poo head all week about performing...but I think that I'm calming down. The key, as with so many things in life, I think, is to not get too tightly wound. Being tightly wound is my specialty.

I was thinking today about what a relatively short strange trip it has been in the rock star world for me. From the one-off rehearsal of a Pogues tribute band in 1992 all the way to being in 5 performing rock bands today. Most of the true performing part of that journey has been stuffed into the time between now and fall 2006...a little over 6 years.

Much to my shock, I am now in bands with people who have less performing experience than I do...at least in the rock ensemble realm. And so things come up like people not realizing that rock shows pretty much happen after 10pm at night. Or people not thinking that getting "off book" is important. Or people being shocked at the conditions that grunt rock bands endure. Or people saying "hey we ought to play this show...there's 20 other bands and if we sell 100 tickets than we might get our big break!" Or people asking me how to put their drums together or how to use guitar pedals or how to book a gig.

When did I become the veteran?

I guess it shouldn't surprise me. I went from average bike commuter to running one of the largest bicycle advocacy groups in country after just two years experience at a flunky desk job in bicycle arm-pit of the world Indiana. How do you become the expert? You just do the work and pretend like you know what you are doing.

And then, at the other end of the spectrum, folks who I admire greatly and who have 20 years head start on me and who have credits on one of the most influential albums in history...well they are playing the same clubs I am and sleeping on my couch these days (in between mega tours in support of reunions of said influential album anyway).

It's all just SO WEIRD.

I think I gotta just dial back to basics. Spend time with nice people playing music that you like. Work hard on it...but not TOO hard. Challenge yourself but don't over-reach. Show it off to other people but don't get bent out of shape if you don't have the "perfect" performance every night. Don't hang your self-worth on whether or not you hit every note to your best possible ability. Conditions change...brains and feet and hands do unexpected things. All you can do is try to be prepared. In the end it is unlikely that anyone but you will notice if it is good, bad, or indifferent. Be nice to those people that you're showing off to cause they are wasting thier night hanging out listening. Sure moving the crap around is a pain...but at least hauling stuff around is good exercise. Sure equipment is expensive and breaks...but it is the tools that let you do the stuff. You aren't doing any of this to be famous or to make a living. You're doing it cause it is supposed to be fun and fulfilling. Take a deep breath. It is, after all, called "playing."

So play.

Perception/Reality/Psychosis

It should be noted that I have heard back multiple reports from the show last Wednesday and people were universally either impressed we how we dealt with or oblivious to my own personal hell that unravelled (and subsesquently sent me into a deep depression for several days and had me pondering giving up performing entirely). There was also a fair amount of "the guitar sounded great in the house as a bass." The lesson I ought to take from all of this is the lighten up. But of course the lesson I am taking is...people are idiots who don't pay attention or know what they are listening to and WHY THE HELL DO I BOTHER TO BUY AND DRAG AROUND NICE EQUIPMENT IF ANY PIECE OF SHIT RUN THROUGH THE HOUSE PA WILL WORK JUST FINE. As a compromise...I may...MAY...try to take away that I shouldn't get so invested at least...cause it really doesn't fucking matter to anyone but me anyway.

Performing

The last post was pretty gloomy and it led to a FB discussion on the matter, which I nearly always regret...but oh well.

It really has got me to wondering though...what the hell is the point of playing out? I've always said that I play out because it makes the band more committed. People rehearse less often and come to rehearsal less prepared if there's no deadline of a performance looming. That annoys me. I want to play frequently and well.

I haven't said out loud the second factor though...which is that playing out lends legitimacy to a band. There are bands that play out and there are bands that "only" play "in the basement" (insert look down nose here). In all honesty, I've yet to feel full legitimacy in a band...though CJ approaches that. I always kind of feel like I'm on the B squad. Not a "real" band. Just a bunch of wanna-bes.

But I think that my skills (and the solidity of at least a few of the bands that I play in) are improving to the point where I'm "good enough."

But anyway...who is lending this STAMP OF APPROVAL? It's really all in my head.

And so, when I think about it, what's the end game? When will I feel legitimate? Probably never, right?  So by that metric...really what is the point of playing out?

It is funny because, I think lots of musicians can feel where I'm coming from on this. But non-musicians (the audience) can't. It's probably a great insult to them in fact. They thought the performance was ABOUT THEM. Nothing, at least in my case, could be further from the truth.

And I am so horrible at taking compliments that there is probably nothing nice that you could say to me after watching a performance that I would take to heart. I would assume that you were either just being nice or had no idea what you were talking about or were guided by some other motivating factor (the "fan" phenomenon).

Side discussion: What is the fan phenomenon you ask? You like a performance or a performer for reasons that have nothing to do with the performance. You admire them or you have a crush on them or you have some secret wish to be a musician or you are drunk or something. I can speak to the fan phenomenon because I do it to other people. ALL THE TIME. Subset of the fan phenomenon...any song that you have heard at least five times in your life you will probably sort of like whether it is good or not. It is the rule of familiarity...a sub-set of the fan phenomenon.

Back to topic...I probably don't enjoy performing because I'm not performing for the audience. I'm performing to play. The audience is, if anything, just there to make me feel like what I'm doing is legitimate. In truth, they make me uncomfortable at best.  I've discussed before with non-musicians that this is a bizarre way to approach the performance from their perspective. It is entirely true that I'd probably enjoy performing more if I got some kind of good feeling from playing for others. But I don't. I could, perhaps, condition myself to enjoy it or try harder to make a connection...but it is a little like saying that I might get along better in the world and be less depressed if I smiled at people and tried to make a connection. I'm not sure that is in my DNA. I'm not saying that I couldn't change. I'm saying that I don't want to change...and that even if I did it would be difficult and possibly fail.

Given the DNA that I have, though...should I be performing? I guess I'm saying that I'm not sure that I should.

This is related more than slightly with another part of my life. I wrote a novel. I enjoyed writing it a bunch. I enjoyed less so, preparing it for publication. It felt good to have it published though and to hold the finished product in my hand.  Pretty universally, though, I've been uncomfortable with the idea that anyone that I know or will ever meet face to face might read the book. I'm more ok with strangers who I will never meet reading it...but even some of them have made me uncomfortable...particularly the ones who felt the need to criticize it publicly. I wasn't ready for criticism. I also wasn't ready for other people to interpret the book in their own ways...or for people to wonder about my motivations or whatnot.  My only condolence is that a handful of people have been helped by the book, and I believe that to be true in my heart. Otherwise, it was a horrible experience and it has made me hesititant to repeat. If I do publish another...I will not promote it. If you need it, you'll find it.

I've had a similar experience with every recording that I've ever made and allowed another person to hear.

Anyway...I don't know where I'm headed with all of this. I guess that the take home is that you really can't get validation from someone or something outside of yourself. And if you are getting validation from inside...than you don't need the external validation really at all. 

There are people who get satisfaction from performance, that's the fun part. For me it is a chore to be suffered through. So why am I doing it?

Fatigue and Potential Injury

The whole thing about my back, shoulders, and hands that has been bumming me out. I suddenly remembered today that this happened once before...when I was learning Blondie songs on the drums. Basically, I pushed myself to learn things that were beyond my skills at the time...and then kind of hurt myself.  In the end, the solution was to relax and not try so fucking hard. I didn't get things perfect...but they ended up being good enough all the same.

Perception vs Reality

I recorded last night's ska rehearsal. I had one impression at the end of rehearsal...which I guess is that the tempos were generally rushed/unsteady (I felt like we were pushing each other to faster and faster tempos), the balance between instruments was off, that I didn't play that well, and that I wasn't sure how good it sounded overall.

I just listened to the recording. I expected that my opinion of the recording would be even worse (because typically listening to a recording of yourself is not a pleasant experience, at least not for me). But the recording actually sounds great. I still think that the keys and guitar are too low in the mix (which isn't surprising since they are using small amps at foot level) but other than that everything was actually pretty good. And it turns out that the songs are still recognizable even if the mix is off.

I feel much better now. I think we're gonna be ok.  Furthermore...while I should keep practicing...I think I should be less hard on myself about how I'm doing. Dammit.

I think that I just have really high expectations for how this band should sound because all of the people in it are SO good.  I want us to live up to our potential.  It is also possible that playing with RS for so long has made me too much of a perfectionist.

Practice

On Friday night I was exhausted after the end of 6 weeks of extra tasks and personal growth (and a show this night before). I intended to practice, but I just couldn't. I rested.

I still managed to play the ska set 4 times over the weekend and half of the 42 song Pixies set. For those who can't conceptualize this...it means I played bass for 5 hours over two days. PLUS I did some more in depth practice on the harder ska tunes...perhaps another hour's worth.  By Sunday night my back and shoulders were killing me and it was hard to keep feeling in my hands.

I feel like it isn't too much to ask to be able to play for 6 hours out of 48.  I need to figure this out. I think the key is less weekend warrior and more daily practice. And learning to relax. Surely my posture and technique is contributing to these issues.

Sad fact...even after all that practicing I still am screwing lots of things up. But on the bright side, I've got 11 of the 13 ska songs memorized now...if tenuously. It feels like they will fall out of my head at any moment. The first show is in 4 weeks.

Popular

Someone on FB had a little freak out about the lack of women (particularly women who play instruments) in rock. The discussion got a little out of hand...as these things tend to do...as it got expanded to the "plight" of women...and into the territory of "guys can't say anything without getting in trouble."

I have strong feelings on the subject for sure, but the discussion got a little derailed I think.

Here's what I have observed:
1. Yeah, there aren't a ton of women playing non-acoustic guitars in mainstream music.
2. As a performer who is obstensively female, I get the following two reactions at shows over-and-over-and-over:
     a. From guys: "Wow, it is awesome to see a girl rocking!"
     b. From gals: "Wow, you're awesome. I admire you so much. I could never do what you do."

Both of these reactions piss me off a lot. 

The guy because, if I were obstensively male and played exactly the same way...they would not have come up to me, noticed me, or said anything. I would just be some dude in the band. It annoys me that my gender appearance means they feel the need to attach extra "awesome" to my performance.

The gal because...fuck you. You could absolutely do this. Stop being a victim.

I will say that I had a transformative experience in spring 2011 which made me temper my reactions to these two kinds of people. Basically I watched my favorite band play the exact same show 3 times in a row...and while following them on the road I heard this story on NPR. The summary of the story is that the cast of Riverdance played the lotto. The subtext is about how, even if you love something, doing it night after night gets boring. AND no matter if you have your best performance of a lifetime or your worst, an audience perceives about the same level of enjoyment. The audience is there to have fun, and so they want you to succeed. They don't notice your fuck-ups for the most part...or your triumphs. 

What's the point of bringing up this? It made me think about how I relate to audiences.It was timely to hear the story while I was watching 4 people I admired play the same show night after night...and while I was wishing they were more engaged with the audience...and wishing they would talk to the fans after the show. It made me realize...they don't care so much about us...they care about where they are gonna have dinner tonight.  I also was aware of the impact of energy on the outcome of a show. If the audience is having fun...the band will have fun...and the show will be better. Showing that you, as a band member, are having fun is almost more important than playing well.

I play for myself...not for the audience. But noticing all these things made me realize that there is a benefit in trying to connect with the audience. Because it makes the experience better for everyone. And, the most important thing, even if you can't bring yourself to connect with an audience...is to have fun and to show that you are having fun.

Anyway, it made me realize that, when people talk to me after a show, I should try to be nice. I should thank them and not be irritated. I should accept the compliment. It doesn't matter that I know that they don't understand the technical issues behind the music. I should just let them have the moment. And I should be grateful for thier interest.

That doesn't change the fact that they are dumb-asses of course.

And getting back to the original issue...yeah...women are second class citizens. Thanks for the news flash. The only way you fix that is through the doing. Stop your bitching. Stop being a victim. Stop hating men. Just do your thing and the rest will follow. Have fun...and the rest will follow.

A footnote:
Who the fuck listens to "popular" music anyway? And why, for the love of all that is good and holy, would you judge anything by that crap? It would be like using McDonald's as the guide post for food. That's not food...that's crap. Mass produced, mass advertised, crap. Sure, lots of people consume it...but does that make it good or important or anything at all to waste your time over? Do you think "Why oh why isn't my home-cooking as popular as McDonald's?!?" No. Because WHO THE FUCK CARES? It is a false comparison. There are shit tons of women playing music all over this world. In every nook and cranny. Be one of them and stop worrying who's listening. Because...IT DOESN'T MATTER.

The world, sadly, is not set up for the smartest or the most qualified or the kindest to "succeed". It is set up for money to "succeed". So redefine success for yourself.

If you want to work towards social equity...go ahead. But if what you want is to be a rock star. Be a fucking rock star. Don't wait for society's approval.

Communication

One of my bands worked on a tough song this week and also tried jam writing a new one. We don't typically work like this...we usually gloss over problems and rarely jam out ideas.

This isn't a statement on the people involved, it is a general statement. Communication is the key to a successful and enjoyable band experience. Rarely, however, does it seem that a room full of musicians are able to communicate well. At least not at the level that I'm playing at. Everyone has different language for what they are trying to communicate...the word "measure" or "phrase" means different things to different people. People don't understand how other instruments work. I personally get stressed out because I feel like I'm being challenged more than listened to. I don't understand what we are talking about...problem 1...and I may or may not be able to do what I'm asked from a skill position...problem 2. I like being shown things in writing or being able to listen to a recording over and over. I like to be able to work through things repeatedly...I can't just pull it out of my ass on the first try. You can't explain to me in words usually...my mind shuts down. It is frustrating.

I don't really know how to fix this. I think usually the answer is for me to remain uninvested, which is too bad. The minute I care about understanding others or having them understand me...the game is lost. I just need to do whatever I'm gonna do and let them do whatever they are gonna do and not talk about it. Talking about it always leads to frustration. It's frustrating either way...but better to be frustrated in silence than to get into an argument.

The answer is always to shut up it seems. People who shut up get along better in life. I should shut up.

Measuring Up

It is probably human nature to compare ourselves to others. I have low self-esteem so I probably do it more than the average person. It is both a factor in me pushing myself to be a better musician and also a significant source of anxiety in my relationship to music. I constantly worry that I'm not "good enough."

Maybe it makes me a bad person, but I watch other musicians and make judgements about their ability. People who say this doesn't happen on a large scale are full of crap. My judgements of others tends to fall into the:
1) I'm better than them (I don't feel particularly good about this, usually it means that the listening experience is not enjoyable)
2) I could do what they are doing, we're about equal (this is the most reassuring feeling)
3) They are way better than me (how I feel about this depends on a modifier...read on)

Fortunately, my assessment doesn't stop here. There's a second tier for those that I percieve as better than me:
1) do I like what they are doing (do I want to listen to it)
2) do I want to be able to do what they are doing.

A surprising amount of the time, my answers to this second tier are:
1) no, I don't like what they are doing
2) no, I don't care if I can't do that.

Essentially, I can appreciate skill and talent even when I don't like it. And when I don't like it, it makes me feel less bad about myself for not being able to do it.  Because I'm insecure though, I'm costantly checking in with myself to see if this is all just sour grapes. You know, the "well I didn't want to be able to do that anyway" attitude. Usually I am able to convince myself that it is not, in fact, sour grapes.

It is a great relief to me that, in the vast world of musical styles and techniques, that there are broad ranges that I can check off my list as "not interested." Jazz. Metal. Latin. Prog. Blues. Afro-Cuban. Reggae. I just don't have to worry about it. So reassuring!

Pop. Rock. Punk. Ska. That's all I'm really interested in. And this is enough of an endless list. (Folk? Country? There's a time and a place. Anyway, for the most part I consider these a subset of pop and rock, though they do touch blues too).

So what about in the case that I perceive the person as way better than me and I DO want to be able to do what they are doing. This makes me feel a little bad, yes, but usually it makes me feel more positive about them than negative about me. And it makes me watch them really closely.

It is interesting, because it isn't so much the internal assessment that makes me feel bad...it is the anticipation of the assessment and the potential comparison to be made by others in attendance. Basically, I don't want to go on the same stage on the same night as someone who is a bunch better than me.

Finishing Guitar Zero

I finished Guitar Zero this weekend. I posted about it a little while ago. Yes it has taken that long to read it because I am slow.

I loved the book, though it did disappoint me. I feel like it didn't draw a strong conclusion. He was going gangbusters and then it was like he ran out of steam and just wrapped up the book too quickly. To be fair, there's likely no real conclusion to be made.

Basically, learning music is unique from learning lots of things, but it isn't totally unique. Kids may learn faster, but adults can learn just as well and may have good advantages in interesting ways.

One of the things I feel like he rushed on towards the end of the book is the why. He covered the how pretty well. But with respect to the why...he kind of just said that it might be good for your brain (but then gave lots of evidence that this might not actually be true) and that it might help you make friends. He also touched on the fact that it is rewarding because it allows you to continue working on a skill for a lifetime.

All of this is true. But none of that is why I want to play music.

I've wanted to play music for as long as I can remember. My earliest references to this was the joy I took in making my voice sound (at least I thought) like Paul McCartney's. This was probably around about 1977 or so.  And around then or shortly after I got the urge to learn to play guitar and piano. I think it was because the sounds those instruments made moved me...or I associated them with good times.  As I became a teenager I idolized musicians and dreamed of being a song writer and a rock star (or folk star). I think it was shallow motivation...but strong none the less. I learned chord organ as a child because I was bored. I learned cello in high school because everybody had to learn an instrument. My mom thinks I picked cello because I liked the girl in Fame...but that was total fabrication. I never actually liked Lori Singer. I liked the guy who played piano. No, I played cello because I was afraid to be in marching band because I worried that when I had my period it would show...and because I thought I was too fat to play violin (so much of your body is exposed). True fact. I played cello to sit down and hide. It was a bonus that cello helped me to learn to teach myself guitar a little while later.

Being in orchestra did something for me though...it gave me a taste of what it is to play in an ensemble. School orchestras rarely attain greatness, or even moderate cohesiveness at all, but I had glimpses of what it was to be totally emersed in an ensemble. To forget yourself. To go on auto pilot. To be in the music. Just glimpses here and there...but powerful glimpses.

Today I think that's what drives me...chasing that perfect moment of total emersion. It can happen playing alone, but it is more likely to happen in an ensemble...in a well rehearsed ensemble. People (non-musicians) try to zing me sometimes when I say that I don't like to perform and I don't like to be on stage and I don't like to have attention drawn to me (still hiding all these years later). "Well than why do you perform?" I perform, pure and simple, to play. It is human nature to half-ass something unless you have a good reason to excel. Performing puts the fire under my butt and the butt of my bandmates to do a good job. To practice and to rehearse. And all I want is to play. As often as possible. At as high of a level as I'm able.

BUT ANYWAY...back to the book.

Two things I liked about it is that it sort of outlined how best to make progress (and that it is probably going to be slow) as an adult music learner...and that it indicated that there are all kinds of ways to understand music. I feel self-conscious that I don't know more theory and that I don't have stronger instincts. I'm kind of in the middle...neither a scholar nor a natural. I tend to discount all that I do know though...which in the eyes of a beginner is a considerable amount. Like most things in life, there are many ways of being, and my way is just as legitimate as anyone else's. I shouldn't let anyone else make me feel bad about my way...or let myself make me feel bad about it.

Who Am I?

In December 2005 I bought a drum kit. It was something I'd thought of doing for a long time, but in the end it was a total impulse purchase. And somehow it led to me really wanting to be a drummer. Somewhere in this monster of a blog I probably could pinpoint kind of when I got serious about that, but I imagine it was in fall of 2008 or so.

On an equal whim, I decided to start playing bass...several times. Once in about 1994...once in about 2003...and again in late 2009/early 2010. In fact, I think I got the idea to start playing bass again in late December 2009...perhaps even 4 years to the day after buying that drum kit.

Since spring 2010 I've been doing a balancing act between drums and bass, but I've still been thinking of myself as a drummer who goofs around with bass. I realized kind of suddenly this weekend that I may now be thinking of myself as a bass player who goofs around with drums. It snuck up on me.

Bass has always been easier for me, perhaps because I have some background in cello and guitar. Drums, on the other hand, have always been hard. It is my tendancy to discount things that come easily to me...but maybe that's the wrong way to think about life.

This spring I took an on-line class in drums. It was supposed to be the beginning of me "getting really serious" (again). Instead it kind of demoralized me. I don't have to look much earlier than that to see a time that I started drum lessons that was supposed to be the beginning of me "getting really serious" (again). Instead THAT kind of demoralized me. In both cases I was working really hard and getting nothing but pain in return. And there are many more examples.

Conversely, in recent months I feel like by just putting a tiny bit of effort into the bass I've made huge improvements. And it is still fun. And I now play bass in 3 bands and drums in 2. That's a new ratio...it was 2 drum bands to 1 bass band for a good long while.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not quitting the drums. I still love playing them. And I do think that I'm getting better at them...slowly but surely. But there's something about the bass that feels like fits. With drums I feel like I'm swimming upstream and against all odds and logic. With bass I feel home.

And I've spent my whole life looking for a musical home.

Pro vs Weekend Warrior

So I don't know if it is my own low self-esteem or a legitimate view of reality...but despite the fact that I am currently in 6 bands, play out regularly, and do occasionally get paid for it...I don't feel like I am perceived by myself or others as a professional musician.

It isn't the fact of having a day job, I know lots of people who are considered pro who have a day job. It's something else. Level of talent? Well maybe, but I know people who aren't as talented as me who pass for pros. Number of shows played? Nope, cause I know folks who never play shows and still get billed pro. So what IS it?

I think part of it may have to do with my role. I am a support player, not a front person. And somehow, unless you are a session musician, this role gets less credit in the world. And I'm not sure why this is.

I was thinking today about all the local star musicians that I know. Most of them play in ONE band. Most of them are singer-songwriters. And they tend to play the same set over and over. There are exceptions...the folks who play in dozens of bands...but they are in a different kind of category (like a session player). Anyway, I guess I don't see the challenge in playing one set over and over...or the interest. Blah. I couldn't do it. But for sure that makes what you are marketing pretty simple. You get to reinforce over and over. The product is defined and so easy to consume.

I'm not sure my point. I'm not bad mouthing anybody else. I just want to end the personal sense that I'm playing on the B team. I'm doing all I can to improve the skill side of that...but in the end it may be more about perception than reality. And I'm never going to be the person who promotes an image...and the fellow musicians that I seem to gravitate towards aren't either. So I guess we're never going to get anywhere.

The Theory of Repetition

I have this theory about myself...though it is probably true of most humans in general. If I listen to a song enough times I will like it.  There are songs or groups that you like the first time out. And there are songs or groups that you'll never like no matter what. But for everything in between...listen enough and you'll like it. It's why people hear a song at wedding that they hated in high school and go "I love this song." It is because it is familiar.

I've been following RR over the last year or so not because I loved the music...but because I admired the artists as people. But today...just now...listening to a live recording session after a week of hearing the songs several times in a row...I began to like their music. Going to a show tonight and it'll all be familiar and appropriately beloved.

This probably somehow reduces the value of music...that if you listen enough you like. But I guess I'm just happy to be happy.

The Strangest Weekend of My Life

So I have two blogs currently...in addition to twitter and facebook...which end up being kind of blogs. I try to keep the blogs anonymous as possible and to not advertise them around. The writing is really just meant for me, my long-distance partner, and the odd person that I've never met on the internet to stumble upon and maybe enjoy. I try to keep the blogs topic-focused and not veer off into too much navel gazing. They are really tools of record-keeping for me to mark progress and track resources. I try not to link between the two blogs...or link to them at all.

I recognize that all of this pretend caution is for naught and that some day something on the internet will destroy me. It has happened before and it will happen again. And again.

So it is in passing here that I'll note that on Saturday I spent much of the day with KeD and her current bandmate (one hell of a guy) and that she slept on my couch. I have gone into nausiating detail about this on the other blog and will leave it there. And probably regret having written it someday. I kind of already do. But it feels like it happened in a dream and I'm still trying to process it into concrete. I don't mean a dream like "it was a dream come true"...I mean like I feel like I took some kind of LSD or something and this all happened in that kind of haze. Like watching a movie of yourself. Lack of sleep, lots of driving, and pet health emergencies over the last several days have probably contributed to the effect.

Item of pertinent interest to this blog...she liked the color of my Billy Sheehan knock off bass.

The big take home...I am a little boring but perhaps not too scary of a person. And people are people. And I ought to keep focusing on doing all this music stuff and not worry too much about how well I'm doing or what it all means or where I'm headed. Just keep trying and hopefully having a good time. And try to be nice to people...to everyone...not just the people who seem important at the moment. Everyone ends up being important in the end and you won't know who until it's too late. And remember that, even though it doesn't always SEEM this way, everything is always better done without alcohol. At least anything that matters. And the secret is...everything matters.