Blending core voices from her bevy of Ibanez axes and a nylon-string guitar with influences culled from EDM, ethnic music, and djent, this rock instrumentalist reaches a colorful new frontier.
Since graduating from Boston’s Berklee College of Music a decade ago, Nili Brosh has emerged as one of the planet’s preeminent progressive rock guitarists. During this time she released two fiery solo albums, worked with shred heroes Tony MacAlpine and her brother Ethan Brosh, toured with Jennifer Batten and Gretchen Menn, and performed in Cirque du Soleil’s Michael Jackson: ONE. Based on her recordings and band history, some might assume Brosh would continue to pursue the face-melting fretwork that brought her international acclaim.
But while working on Spectrum, her third and latest solo album, Brosh found herself with a collection of song ideas that were clearly inspired by genres she hadn’t explored before. “I didn’t really know where this was coming from,” she recalls. “I liked that it was happening, and I was happy with the music, but I just felt like, ‘Well, all this doesn’t really belong on one record, so I don’t know what I’m going to do.’”
Then it hit her: All the different genres she was experimenting with had a subtle common thread, some kind of “sonic thing,” as she puts it. “I realized I could, for lack of a better term, fade from one genre to the next, using those commonalities, so whatever you listen to next, it’s always going to have something from what came before.”
Once she had this conceptual epiphany, Brosh found it easier to use her talent for crafting melodies and hooks to unify Spectrum’s diverse compositions. This led to new sonic possibilities, as evidenced by the album’s first two songs, “Cartagena” and “Andalusian Fantasy,” which have a strong Spanish flavor. Instead of leading off with blazing electric lines, something her fans might expect, Brosh captivates the listener with effortless phrasing on a nylon-string guitar. From there, the mood morphs into the European-folk-inspired “Circus Wedding” and the Parisian/klezmer-influenced “Rachel in Paris,” which features accordion virtuoso Hubert Gall. By using her guitar to support the accordion and violin, Brosh exhibits a deep understanding of the genres referenced in her new songs and reveals a side of her musicianship that might surprise those expecting pyrotechnical fretwork.
YouTube It
Hear “Retractable Intent” from Nili Brosh’s Spectrum—her new concept album and first solo release in more than five years.
Five numbers in, Brosh breaks out her electric guitar for “Solace.” But even here, she slips into a laid-back, R&B-inspired groove, tantalizing listeners with a musical motif that’s as much about space as it is about dexterity. That she doesn’t unleash her electric until “Solace” drives home the point that this album is about melody and songcraft, rather than flash or fury. After gradually transitioning to more fusion-esque and progressive sounds, she finally lands in more familiar territory with the screaming, heavy leads of EDM/djent mashups “Djentrification” and “Primal Feels.”
PG caught up with Brosh at home in Los Angeles. She was candid, reflecting on her anxiety over crafting such a musically diverse album, what it meant to graduate from Berklee, and how her childhood in Israel, as well as a recent genre-defying quest for melodic ideas, helped inform Spectrum.
Were you worried that a musically diverse album like Spectrum would be hard to promote?
I thought about it all the time—all the way up to the release [laughs]. My previous [2014] album is called A Matter of Perception because it was so hard for me to accept the material on it. For me, it was like the story of the artist’s struggle, where you’re like, “I don’t know if this is good or bad? I don’t know if I’m just perceiving it differently because I wrote it, or now am I just too close to it?” I went through all that inner turmoil for a long time and then realized that’s what the album is about.
When all the music for Spectrum started coming to me, it was the first time I thought, “I actually really like this.” And I never say that about my own stuff, so I knew it was going to be different, and people might be surprised by it, but I’d rather get behind stuff that I really believe in. And if I’m lucky enough to actually enjoy the process this time?
So to me it was more important to focus on that and just kind of push it 100 percent and let that be my statement as an artist. If people want to listen to it, great, if not, listen to something else, you know? [Laughs.]For artists, it’s hard enough as it is, so we might as well take whatever freedoms we can.
When did you start playing guitar or get into music?
Well, I’m the youngest of four. I have three older brothers, so growing up I got exposed to a lot of older rock ’n’ roll that someone growing up in the ’90s probably wouldn’t have—a lot of Pink Floyd and Queen, and some of my siblings were listening to Iron Maiden and that kind of thing. My older brother, Ethan, is a guitar player, and growing up I always wanted to be like him. I thought he was cool, playing guitar. And then I discovered Nuno Bettencourt and Extreme’s second album, Pornograffitti, and that just changed my life. I knew that I wanted to play electric guitar and see if I could make some of that funky metal happen.
I had high school bands, but I was mostly just learning the guitar and trying to write stuff. It wasn’t until I went to Berklee that I started having real bands and playing with other people on a more serious level.
Did you graduate from Berklee?
Yes. We always said, as a joke, that if you graduated, you actually failed, because you had no reason to leave. It means you didn’t get a gig that would take you out of school. [Laughs.] That’s the Berklee joke, or at least I think it was for the previous generations. By the time I went there, a lot of kids wanted to have a degree—that’s definitely how I felt—but I know a few people felt the other way.
Have you found education useful in your career, in terms of getting gigs? You played with Cirque du Soleil, for example. Was that a reading gig?
I think it usually is. I was in their Michael Jackson show, so my job was basically to be their Jennifer Batten, so to speak, and I think they knew that’s not something you present to the guitarist with sheet music. You’re supposed to come in knowing how to play the “Beat It” solo and that type of stuff. I do feel like Berklee prepared me for a lot, but I felt like it didn’t teach me how to necessarily conduct myself in the business. That’s what I felt like I was lacking.
TIDBIT: Although most of the recording of Brosh’s new album was done remotely, the violin and accordion for “Rachel in Paris” and “Circus Wedding” were tracked together, live in the studio.
Were you a performance or education major?
My major was called Professional Music, which is kind of build-your-own-major curriculum that Berklee had. I didn’t want to do full-on performance and I didn’t want to do just composition. I wanted to combine the two, so that allowed me to fill the concentration in a couple of different areas. And if you think about it, it actually does serve me directly because it was teaching me the two things that I focus on—performance and composition.
What is your role when playing with Tony MacAlpine? How did you integrate what you do into that scenario?
Well, I learned so much from him that it’s more about what he gave to my playing. But my role wasn’t really rhythm guitar and it wasn’t really lead guitar. It was a lot of both, because he plays keyboard half of the time. So, a lot of times I’m matching lines with him, but then jumping over to a rhythm part, so it just depends on the arrangement of the song. It involved a lot of switching techniques quickly because you have to cover a lot of different roles. But that was the beautiful challenge of that gig. It made it very interesting and a lot of fun.
Describe your electric setup for Spectrum.
I used my main rig, which is a Peavey JSX head and an Egnater Tourmaster 2x12 cab. I always use the EP Booster, dialed all the way down, as a tone enhancer—not so much a boost, but just to round out the tone nicely, so it’s a layer on top of the amp sound. I’m a very straight-into-the-amp kind of person and add the effects later.
What about your nylon string? Was it miked or did you use an internal pickup?
I used an Electronics Voodoo VR1 ribbon mic for the nylon string, and a matched pair of Oktava condenser mics for the electric.
How did you approach tracking the new album? Were you in the studio with the musicians or were you sharing files?
It was both. My producer, Alex Argento—who played keyboards on the record and built a lot of the tracks and arrangements—and I were doing file sharing because he’s over in Italy. But I was lucky this time to be able to bring some of the instrumentalists into the studio, and be with them and produce those sessions. We actually recorded the violin and accordion together for “Rachel in Paris” and “Circus Wedding.” It was really cool to watch them play that live together. It’s some of the most different stuff I’ve ever done. It’s so rare for me nowadays to be in the studio with other musicians, so that was a real treat.
A veteran of the Cirque du Soleil band, Tony MacAlpine’s groups, the Iron Maidens, and tours with Jennifer Batten and Gretchen Menn, Nili Brosh displays remarkable versatility on guitar—and yet the variety of sounds and styles on her new album, Spectrum, opens even more territory for the Israel-born artist. Photo by Jake Albrecht
Those songs are among the highlights of the album. It’s not as if you’re just adding scorching lead guitar on top of accordion-and-violin-infused songs. There’s real attention to their style. Have you been listening to klezmer music?
It does fall under the category of stuff I like. But with my heritage, growing up in Israel, I watched a lot of ethnic films and heard things like that over the years. So I think some of it comes from there. I’m glad if it sounds like I understand this music. I’m just trying to go on instinct and ask myself, “What does this song really need?” Or what does it not need, as far as my role as a guitar player. If the melody in my head says that different instruments should be playing, then I call an accordion player and just hope that it’s in their range, because I’ve never written for accordion before. I just try to approach it intuitively as a listener and go from there, even if I’m not so familiar with the genre.
Guitars
Ibanez RG1527 Prestige
Ibanez RG2727 (available in Japan only)
Ibanez RG550 Genesis
Ibanez RG655 Prestige
Ibanez RG927 7-string
Ibanez AS93 Artcore
Ibanez STM3 Sam Totman Signature
Cordoba GK Studio Negra (nylon string)
Amps
Peavey Joe Satriani Signature JSX Head
Egnater Tourmaster 2x12
Effects
DigiTech Whammy 5 Pitch Shift
HeadRush Pedalboard
MXR M169 Carbon Copy Analog Delay
TC Electronic PolyTune 2 Mini
Xotic EP Booster
Picks
Dean Markley Blue Steel 2552 Lights (.009–.042, plus .054 for 7-string low B)
Dunlop 475 Big Stubby 2.0 mm
All the songs are tied together by a strong sense of melody, so there’s always something to bring the listener back to. Do you typically start with a theme or motif, or do they emerge after you’ve developed the chord changes and arrangements?
It’s happened different ways over the years, but on this record, and more recently, it’s been about hearing the melodies first, and then taking notes on the arrangement—to the best of my ability at that time. But Spectrum pretty much started with all melodies first.
One compelling aspect of your solos is that you’ll play “outside” a bit and then come back to the really strong melody. Do you work out your solos beforehand or are you improvising?
They’re kind of worked out by improvising. I improvise until I get something I’m really happy with, and then I workshop it for the record because I want to make sure I’m 100 percent happy about what’s going to be on there forever. I definitely want to think about every note regardless of how it comes together.
When I first read the title “Djentrification,” I thought, “I can’t believe nobody else ever came up with that!”
I know—I kept thinking the same thing. When this record started taking so much longer to complete than I thought it would, I kept thinking, “Someone’s going to do this before me.” But that didn’t happen, I don’t think.
“Djentrification” is a mash-up of djent and EDM, which kind of makes it another form of gentrification. Is EDM another genre that’s filtering through your subconscious? Because it does go off into a real non-guitar-oriented space.
Yeah. I’ve always liked EDM hooks. It’s the kind of music where you find a lot of instrumental hooks. I often go there to study melodies, because I thought there’s something so unique about instrumental hooks. It seems like it’s harder to create them than vocal hooks. But I think part of that is just the phrasing.
Please elaborate.
If you’re not playing an instrument where you have to breathe, you can overplay really easily, which makes it a lot harder to create something catchy and simple and memorable. So, it was a really good place to study how instrumental melodies could work. Some of them fit better on keys and really are made to sound super synthy, so I just wanted to bring that into my music and make it another element in what’s going on.
Are you planning to take Spectrum out on the road?
I’m hoping to, and there’s going to be more tour dates with Jennifer Batten and Gretchen Menn. I started playing some of this stuff live already with them on shows that we did together.
There’s a lot of different instrumentation on Spectrum. What kind of band do you plan to take out on the road?
Well, that’s going to be the challenge. There are certain songs that I haven’t really figured out yet—whether we’re going to play them live, whether they’re going to be possible. But I have a four-piece band. I have another guitar player, Alon Mei-Tal. I went to Berklee with him and he’s a good friend. And we went to Berklee with the bass player as well—Eli Marcus. And then there’s our drummer, Ray Rojo. We’ve been playing my music together for a while, and we usually do it with keyboards on track. And if I’m in a place where I can have a guest keyboard player, someone we know, we’ve done that, too, but so far that’s the way we’ve focused on it.
So, the drummer is playing to a click to do that?
Yeah.
I think that isn’t as frowned upon as it once was.
No, no, I don’t think it is.
People have embraced technology to the point now where it’s an accepted form of artistic license to do that kind of thing.
Right. Honestly, it’s just an expense thing for me. I already have a four-piece band.
YouTube It
On last year’s Batten-Menn-Brosh tour stop at the Chapel in San Francisco, Nili Brosh plays “Primal Feels,” from Spectrum, digging into the emotional melody with her Ibanez RG927.
“Practice Loud”! How Duane Denison Preps for a New Jesus Lizard Record
After 26 years, the seminal noisy rockers return to the studio to create Rack, a master class of pummeling, machine-like grooves, raving vocals, and knotty, dissonant, and incisive guitar mayhem.
The last time the Jesus Lizard released an album, the world was different. The year was 1998: Most people counted themselves lucky to have a cell phone, Seinfeld finished its final season, Total Request Live was just hitting MTV, and among the year’s No. 1 albums were Dave Matthews Band’s Before These Crowded Streets, Beastie Boys’ Hello Nasty, The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, Korn’s Follow the Leader, and the Armageddonsoundtrack. These were the early days of mp3 culture—Napster didn’t come along until 1999—so if you wanted to hear those albums, you’d have to go to the store and buy a copy.
The Jesus Lizard’s sixth album, Blue, served as the band’s final statement from the frontlines of noisy rock for the next 26 years. By the time of their dissolution in 1999, they’d earned a reputation for extreme performances chock full of hard-hitting, machine-like grooves delivered by bassist David Wm. Sims and, at their conclusion, drummer Mac McNeilly, at times aided and at other times punctured by the frontline of guitarist Duane Denison’s incisive, dissonant riffing, and presided over by the cantankerous howl of vocalist David Yow. In the years since, performative, thrilling bands such as Pissed Jeans, METZ, and Idles have built upon the Lizard’s musical foundation.
Denison has kept himself plenty busy over the last couple decades, forming the avant-rock supergroup Tomahawk—with vocalist Mike Patton, bassist Trevor Dunn (both from Mr. Bungle), and drummer John Stanier of Helmet—and alongside various other projects including Th’ Legendary Shack Shakers and Hank Williams III. The Jesus Lizard eventually reunited, but until now have only celebrated their catalog, never releasing new jams.
The Jesus Lizard, from left: bassist David Wm. Sims, singer David Yow, drummer Mac McNeilly, and guitarist Duane Denison.
Photo by Joshua Black Wilkins
Back in 2018, Denison, hanging in a hotel room with Yow, played a riff on his unplugged electric guitar that caught the singer’s ear. That song, called “West Side,” will remain unreleased for now, but Denison explains: “He said, ‘Wow, that’s really good. What is that?’ And I said, ‘It’s just some new thing. Why don’t we do an album?’” From those unassuming beginnings, the Jesus Lizard’s creative juices started flowing.
So, how does a band—especially one who so indelibly captured the ineffable energy of live rock performance—prepare to get a new record together 26 years after their last? Back in their earlier days, the members all lived together in a band house, collectively tending to the creative fire when inspiration struck. All these years later, they reside in different cities, so their process requires sending files back and forth and only meeting up for occasional demo sessions over the course of “three or four years.”
“When the time comes to get more in performance mode, I have a practice space. I go there by myself and crank it up. I turn that amp up and turn the metronome up and play loud.” —Duane Denison
the Jesus Lizard "Alexis Feels Sick"
Distance creates an obstacle to striking while the proverbial iron is hot, but Denison has a method to keep things energized: “Practice loud.” The guitarist professes the importance of practice, in general, and especially with a metronome. “We keep very detailed records of what the beats per minute of these songs are,” he explains. “To me, the way to do it is to run it to a Bluetooth speaker and crank it, and then crank your amp. I play a little at home, but when the time comes to get more in performance mode, I have a practice space. I go there by myself and crank it up. I turn that amp up and turn the metronome up and play loud.”
It’s a proven solution. On Rack—recorded at Patrick Carney’s Audio Eagle studio with producer Paul Allen—the band sound as vigorous as ever, proving they’ve not only remained in step with their younger selves, but they may have surpassed it with faders cranked. “Duane’s approach, both as a guitarist and writer, has an angular and menacing fingerprint that is his own unique style,” explains Allen. “The conviction in his playing that he is known for from his recordings in the ’80s and ’90s is still 100-percent intact and still driving full throttle today.”
“I try to be really, really precise,” he says. “I think we all do when it comes to the basic tracks, especially the rhythm parts. The band has always been this machine-like thing.” Together, they build a tension with Yow’s careening voice. “The vocals tend to be all over the place—in and out of tune, in and out of time,” he points out. “You’ve got this very free thing moving around in the foreground, and then you’ve got this very precise, detailed band playing behind it. That’s why it works.”
Before Rack, the Jesus Lizard hadn’t released a new record since 1998’s Blue.
Denison’s guitar also serves as the foreground foil to Yow’s unhinged raving, as on “Alexis Feels Sick,” where they form a demented harmony, or on the midnight creep of “What If,” where his vibrato-laden melodies bolster the singer’s unsettled, maniacal display. As precise as his riffs might be, his playing doesn’t stay strictly on the grid. On the slow, skulking “Armistice Day,” his percussive chording goes off the rails, giving way to a solo that slices that groove like a chef’s knife through warm butter as he reorganizes rock ’n’ roll histrionics into his own cut-up vocabulary.
“During recording sessions, his first solo takes are usually what we decide to keep,” explains Allen. “Listen to Duane’s guitar solos on Jack White’s ‘Morning, Noon, and Night,’ Tomahawk’s ‘Fatback,’ and ‘Grind’ off Rack. There’s a common ‘contained chaos’ thread among them that sounds like a harmonic Rubik’s cube that could only be solved by Duane.”
“Duane’s approach, both as a guitarist and writer, has an angular and menacing fingerprint that is his own unique style.” —Rack producer Paul Allen
To encapsulate just the right amount of intensity, “I don’t over practice everything,” the guitarist says. Instead, once he’s created a part, “I set it aside and don’t wear it out.” On Rack, it’s obvious not a single kilowatt of musical energy was lost in the rehearsal process.
Denison issues his noisy masterclass with assertive, overdriven tones supporting his dissonant voicings like barbed wire on top of an electric fence. The occasional application of slapback delay adds a threatening aura to his exacting riffage. His tones were just as carefully crafted as the parts he plays, and he relied mostly on his signature Electrical Guitar Company Chessie for the sessions, though a Fender Uptown Strat also appears, as well as a Taylor T5Z, which he chose for its “cleaner, hyper-articulated sound” on “Swan the Dog.” Though he’s been spotted at recent Jesus Lizard shows with a brand-new Powers Electric—he points out he played a demo model and says, “I just couldn’t let go of it,” so he ordered his own—that wasn’t until tracking was complete.
Duane Denison's Gear
Denison wields his Powers Electric at the Blue Room in Nashville last June.
Photo by Doug Coombe
Guitars
- Electrical Guitar Company Chessie
- Fender Uptown Strat
- Taylor T5Z
- Gibson ES-135
- Powers Electric
Amps
- Hiwatt Little J
- Hiwatt 2x12 cab with Fane F75 speakers
- Fender Super-Sonic combo
- Early ’60s Fender Bassman
- Marshall 1987X Plexi Reissue
- Victory Super Sheriff head
- Blackstar HT Stage 60—2 combos in stereo with Celestion Neo Creamback speakers and Mullard tubes
Effects
- Line 6 Helix
- Mantic Flex Pro
- TC Electronic G-Force
- Menatone Red Snapper
Strings and Picks
- Stringjoy Orbiters .0105 and .011 sets
- Dunlop celluloid white medium
- Sun Studios yellow picks
He ran through various amps—Marshalls, a Fender Bassman, two Fender Super-Sonic combos, and a Hiwatt Little J—at Audio Eagle. Live, if he’s not on backline gear, you’ll catch him mostly using 60-watt Blackstar HT Stage 60s loaded with Celestion Neo Creambacks. And while some boxes were stomped, he got most of his effects from a Line 6 Helix. “All of those sounds [in the Helix] are modeled on analog sounds, and you can tweak them endlessly,” he explains. “It’s just so practical and easy.”
The tools have only changed slightly since the band’s earlier days, when he favored Travis Beans and Hiwatts. Though he’s started to prefer higher gain sounds, Allen points out that “his guitar sound has always had teeth with a slightly bright sheen, and still does.”
“Honestly, I don’t think my tone has changed much over the past 30-something years,” Denison says. “I tend to favor a brighter, sharper sound with articulation. Someone sent me a video I had never seen of myself playing in the ’80s. I had a band called Cargo Cult in Austin, Texas. What struck me about it is it didn’t sound terribly different than what I sound like right now as far as the guitar sound and the approach. I don’t know what that tells you—I’m consistent?”
YouTube It
The Jesus Lizard take off at Nashville’s Blue Room this past June with “Hide & Seek” from Rack.
The two pedals mark the debut of the company’s new Street Series, aimed at bringing boutique tone to the gigging musician at affordable prices.
The Phat Machine
The Phat Machine is designed to deliver the tone and responsiveness of a vintage germanium fuzz with improved temperature stability with no weird powering issues. Loaded with both a germanium and a silicon transistor, the Phat Machine offers the warmth and cleanup of a germanium fuzz but with the bite of a silicon pedal. It utilizes classic Volume and Fuzz control knobs, as well as a four-position Thickness control to dial-in any guitar and amp combo. Also included is a Bias trim pot and a Kill switch that allows battery lovers to shut off the battery without pulling the input cord.
Silk Worm Deluxe Overdrive
The Silk Worm Deluxe -- along with its standard Volume/Gain/Tone controls -- has a Bottom trim pot to dial in "just the right amount of thud with no mud at all: it’s felt more than heard." It also offers a Studio/Stage diode switch that allows you to select three levels of compression.
Both pedals offer the following features:
- 9-volt operation via standard DC external supply or internal battery compartment
- True bypass switching with LED indicator
- Pedalboard-friendly top mount jacks
- Rugged, tour-ready construction and super durable powder coated finish
- Made in the USA
Static Effectors’ Street Series pedals carry a street price of $149 each. They are available at select retailers and can also be purchased directly from the Static Effectors online store at www.staticeffectors.com.
So, you want to chase the riches and glories of being a mid-level guitar YouTuber. Rhett and Zach have some reality checks.
This outing of Dipped In Tone kicks off with an exciting update from Zach Broyles’ camp: He’s opening a brick-and-mortar guitar shop in Nashville, called High Voltage Guitars. Opening on October 8, the store will carry gear from Two-Rock, Divided By 13, Dr. Z, Castedosa, Fano, Novo, and of course Mythos Pedals. Zach hints that there might be some handwired JHS pedals from Josh Scott himself, too, and Rhett reveals that he plans to consign some of his guitars at the shop.
The business side of Zach’s new venture brings them to a key piece of today’s episode: Rhett and Zach aren’t running charities. They do what they do to make money; guitars, gear, podcasting, and content creation are their literal jobs. And they’re not as glamorous and breezy as most armchair commentators might guess.
Want to do what Rhett and Zach do? Welcome to the club. The guitar-influencer field is what one might call “oversaturated” at the moment, and it’s difficult to break out—but not impossible. As our hosts explain, it requires putting in 60-hour work weeks, a diverse skillset, a knack for catching people’s attention, and a certain level of genuineness. Rhett knows this path well, and he has hard-earned advice for staying true to oneself while building a following in the gear world.
Tune in to learn why Rhett thinks Fretboard Summit, a three-day guitar festival organized by Fretboard Journal, blows NAMM out of the water and builds legitimate connections between guitarists, and catch the duo dipping a Dick Dale-inspired, all-Fender rig.
Get 10% off your order at stewmac.com/dippedintone
Plenty of excellent musicians work day jobs to put food on the family table. So where do they go to meet their music community?
Being a full-time musician is a dream that rarely comes to pass. I’ve written about music-related jobs that keep you close to the action, and how more and more musicians are working in the music-gear industry, but that’s not for everyone. Casual players and weekend warriors love music as much as the hardcore guitarists who are bent on playing full time, but they may have obligations that require more consistent employment.
I know plenty of excellent musicians who work day jobs not to support their musical dreams, but to put food on the family table. They pay mortgages, put children through school, provide services, and contribute to their community. Music may not be their vocation, but it’s never far from their minds. So where do they go to meet their music community?
A good friend of mine has studied music extensively in L.A. and New York. He’s been mentored by the pros, and he takes his playing very seriously. Like many, he always had day jobs, often in educational situations. While pro gigs were sometimes disappointing, he found that he really enjoyed working with kids and eventually studied and achieved certification as an educator. To remain in touch with his love of music, he plays evenings and weekends with as many as three groups, including a jazz trio and a country band. Not actually worrying about having a music gig that could support him in totality has changed the way he views playing out and recording. He doesn’t have to take gigs that put him in stressful situations; he can pick and choose. He’s not fretting over “making it.” In some way, he’s actually doing what we all want, to play for the music plain and simple.
Another guy I know has played in bands since his teens. He’s toured regionally and made a few records. When the time came to raise a family, he took a corporate job that is as about as far away from the music business as you can get. But it has allowed him to remain active as a player, and he regularly releases albums he records in his home studio. His longstanding presence in the music scene keeps him in touch with some famous musicians who guest on his recordings. He’s all about music head to toe, and when he retires, I’m certain he’ll keep on playing.
“Seek out music people regularly. They’re hiding in plain sight: at work, at the park, in the grocery store. They sell you insurance, they clean your teeth.”
I could go on, and I’m sure you know people in similar situations. Maybe this even describes you. So where do we all find our musical compadres? For me, and the people I’ve mentioned, our history playing in bands and gigging while young has kept us in touch with others of the same ilk, or with those who are full-time musicians. But many come to music later in life as well. How do they find community?
Somehow, we manage to find our tribe. It could be at work or a coffee shop. Some clubs still have an open mic night that isn’t trying to be a conveyor belt to commercial success. Guitarists always go up to the stage between changes to talk shop, which can lead to more connections. I like the idea of the old-school music store. Local guitar shops and music stores are great places to meet other musicians. Many have bulletin boards where you can post or find ads looking for bandmates. When I see someone wearing a band T-shirt, I usually ask if they’re a musician. Those conversations often lead to more connections down the line. Remember, building a network of musicians often requires persistence and putting yourself out there. Don’t be afraid to initiate conversations and express your interest in collaborating with others.
Of course, I’m lucky to have worked in the music sphere since I was a teen. My path led to using my knowledge of music and guitars to involve myself in so many adventures that I can hardly count them. Still, it’s the love of music at the root of everything I do, and it’s the people that make that possible. So whether you’re a pro or a beginner, seek out music people regularly. They’re hiding in plain sight: at work, at the park, in the grocery store. They sell you insurance, they clean your teeth. Maybe they’re your kid’s teacher. Musicians are everywhere, and that’s a good thing for all of us.