Just like anything that is important to you, you need to have a plan in place to accomplish it. Last month, I had to learn approximately 60 songs in the span of less than three weeks for a three-part livestream series. It wasn't a situation where it would be appropriate for me to read charts off a music stand. I had to make a practice plan with my family in order to have the time and resources I would need to execute this rather monumental task. I want to take you step-by-step through my strategy for tackling those tunes. Hopefully you can find tips to help refine your approach—even if you don't have a newborn.
What if you don't have something pressing to force you into laser-focusing your practice habits? How do you manage your time without a deadline to hold you accountable?
If you're reading this article, you're a self-motivated person who wants to improve. Excellent. Give yourself goals that are achievable and quantifiable to stay motivated and track your progress. Rather than a goal like “Get better at soloing" select something like “Transcribe solo on [name a specific song]" as your first weekly goal. Then, build upon those goals by using that material to achieve another objective. Small steps add up to big changes and give you the focus you need to establish good practice habits.
Preproduction
Using this soloing goal as an example, find ways to practice outside of the practice room so you can maximize time with your instrument. If you're trying to cop a solo, learn it by heart before you sit down to play it. Sing along with it over and over again to the point where you can sing it without the recording. Here's an exercise to try: Record yourself playing the chord changes and then sing melodic ideas over it. You can do so much work in advance of heading to the woodshed. And if you're a busy person, preproduction is the key to success.
Lightning Round!
Turn off notifications on your phone. When you have precious little time, an errant tweet notification can derail the 30 minutes you have set aside. Jason Isbell has been responsible for nearly as much social media worm-holing as he has musical inspiration for me. Dude's a Twitter genius. You've been warned.
Organize your practice space. You don't want to be searching for stuff when you're under the gun. I have notebooks, Sharpies, pens, and pencils at the ready along with headphones and adaptors. Take this tip from Rachel Hoffman's home organization masterwork Unf*ck Your Habitat: “A Place for Everything and Everything in Its Place." If you have a place for everything, you're never looking for your stuff. And you also don't leave crap everywhere, thereby potentially annoying other people you need as allies.
Maximize good brain time. Is there a time of day that's better for your unique brain function to practice? Take advantage if you can! I'm a night owl so practicing after the baby is asleep works well for me, thankfully.
Sing! You can save yourself hours of time by singing along with parts you're trying to learn outside of your practice space. Do it while driving, while doing the dishes, while exercising, any opportunity you have to listen to music. This is how I learn all bass lines. If you can sing it, you can play it. When you sit down to learn it, you'll know it in your bones—literally. You will immediately hear when you make a mistake and be able to find the note you're looking for by singing the pitch you know you're supposed to hear. It's remarkable how well it works, especially for the students who say “But I can't sing!"
Do a little each day. Like exercise, a healthy diet, and meditation, practicing a smaller amount each day is more beneficial than one big cram session every now and then. Productivity timer cubes are super helpful as a means stay focused for small blocks of time. Even 15 highly concentrated minutes a day will pay dividends and create consistency in your practice and playing.
Take lessons. A teacher is a great way to stay accountable on your musical journey. An objective third party taking inventory of areas where you could improve and giving you homework is a surefire way to ensure you spend time with your instrument each week. Can't afford a ton of lessons? Make a commitment to learn a new technique by watching videos on the subject or treat yourself to a one-time or monthly evaluation by a musician you admire and have them map out some goals for you.
Include your loved ones. When something's important to you, you should share it and celebrate it with your loved ones. Music is the ultimate tool for shared celebration and finding ways to include your people in your practice endears them to your commitment, rather than viewing it as something that takes away from your time together.
My students always amaze me with how they get loved ones on board with their musical pursuits. One student's girlfriend loves karaoke, so he has committed to learning to play and sing a song for karaoke nights. She's excited for him to practice, knowing that they will spend special time together because of it. Another student has his wife help with interval training, playing intervals on the piano so he can guess what he's hearing. His wife loves to tease him about it, and they have a blast with it. Several of my students ask their friends and family what songs they'd like to hear. It's great fodder for learning new material and it gets the people you care about to be invested on a whole new level. And that rocks.
Now I'll consolidate all the info above into a real-world situation and share my practice plan for that 60-song, three-part livestream I mentioned…
Preproduction
I had to do as much prep work ahead of time as possible so I could capitalize on the time I would have to leave my baby with another willing and helpful adult. There are several steps I always take before I sit down to practice new songs. Here are the highlights:
Organize the Music and Listen
Listen to the music you're working on as much as possible. I listen while driving, pushing the baby in her stroller, in headphones next to her while she's napping, etc… Consolidate songs into a playlist in a medium that's easy to access while driving so you're not fumbling with your phone. You don't want some stuff in Dropbox, some stuff on YouTube, and some stuff in Spotify. Organizing your material upfront will save you lots of time later on.
Write Charts
I wrote my charts largely in the car in parking lots while running errands and while the baby was napping. (I write charts by ear and you can too! See my article on The Nashville Number System for more tips.) You can also ask for charts from fellow musicians on the gig (tactfully, please, and return the favor when someone asks you) or source them online if it's a cover gig.
Practice in Your Head
I know myself well enough to recognize when I truly know a song. I can visualize my hands on the fretboard while listening to it and if I get to a spot where the image doesn't come quickly, I know it'll need some attention. I then listen through the songs while reading the charts I wrote in those Nashville parking lots and highlight the trouble spots and anything else that surfaces as questionable.
Get the Setlist
If possible, get the setlist in advance. Then grab a couple pieces of hardy card stock paper and two different colored Sharpies. Write the songs in order in alternating, high contrast colors. This way your eye can find your notes quickly on the floor.
Now to execute a practice plan and juggle a small human…
I had 60 songs to learn that were divided over three 90-minute sets of roughly 20 songs each with about a week between each performance.
I focused on the shows in chronological order and spent all my time listening to those 20 songs, over and over for three or four days before touching an instrument.
My practice time was divided into two 90-minute sessions per day over the course of the two days before each show. One was in the morning when someone could watch the baby and one in the evening after she was asleep.
First Day Practice Sessions
I split the setlist in half and tackled 10 songs at the morning session and the remaining 10 at the evening session. Ninety minutes is about what I need to run 10 songs I've never played (but on which I have done proper preproduction). Some songs I'll only need to run once to get them under my hands, some might need a couple of run-throughs.
I play through each song, focusing on trouble spots, running those sections a few times.
I notate (usually with a highlighter or an asterisk) any trouble spots on my chart I didn't catch during the critical listening and charting pre-practice phase.
Second Day Practice Sessions
I redo the same approach, only this time I try not to look at my charts. As I play along, I take note when I find myself asking “How does that bridge go?" or “Am I in at the top of the song?" I write those notes down in Sharpie next to the song title on my setlist.
And now I present my setlist for the final livestream, which ended up being 16 songs in length. This is written using the Nashville Number System and is a peek into my process. Thanks to my husband and mother-in-law for working with me to make my practice time a reality and best of luck to all of you busy folks out there looking to get the most out of your precious time.
To quote the author Harvey Mackay:
Time is free, but it's priceless. You can't own it, but you can use it.
You can't keep it, but you can spend it. Once you've lost it, you can
never get it back.
Make the most of it, friends!
Elliott Sharp is a dapper dude. Not a dandy, mind you, but an elegant gentleman.
I am writing this piece for a guitar magazine, so, necessarily, I must serve up info that is guitar-centric. And I can do that, at least a little bit. But Elliott is also a noted composer, runs his own little record label, plays woodwinds proficiently, is a guitar builder/tinkerer, author, gracious supporter of other musicians’ efforts, family man, and killer blues player—a blues scholar, in fact. So where do we, the public, conditioned to needing categories, pigeonholes, and easy assessment signals, put Elliott Sharp—an artist with a powerful work ethic and a long, illustrious career of making mind-bending sounds and conceptual works? How about putting him in the pantheon of the maverick and the multifaceted? Surely this pantheon exists somewhere! In mind, in heart. To those for whom such things resonate and inspire, I bring you Elliott Sharp.
One can obviously go to the information superhighway to find info on Elliott, and to hear his music, so I won’t go into too many details about where he was born (Cleveland) and when (March 1, 1951; as of this writing, Elliott is 74), or what he is best known for (being a crucial figure in the downtown New York City scene from 1979 to the present). He is Berlin Prize winner and a Guggenheim Fellow (among other honors). And I have never asked him what strings and picks he uses, so maybe I have already blown it here. But I realize now, having taken on this assignment, that inherent in writing about and trying to explain Elliott Sharp is an implicit TMI factor. There is so much going on here, so much diverse information that could be imparted, that I would not be the least bit surprised if some readers eventually glaze over a bit and start thinking of their own life’s efforts and goals as rather paltry. I get that! Although you shouldn’t.
E# @NaturalHabitat
Here, now, is my portrait of Elliott, accompanied by what I imagine is a day in the life of Elliott when he’s at home in New York City.
Elliott Sharp is a dapper dude. Not a dandy, mind you, but an elegant gentleman. He, like so many in New York and in the world of music/art/guitar, favors dark-hued clothing (yeah, a preponderance of black) and is most often seen wearing a classic slouch hat of obvious quality. He relocated from Buffalo via Western Massachusetts to lower Manhattan in 1979 to a zone that was, back then, quite treacherously decrepit, in an apartment that offered only an hour or so of heat in the winter, etc., etc. It was cheap, and things were always happening, and, in fact, it was the 1950s domicile of William Burroughs, Allen Ginsberg, and Jack Kerouac.The area became the nexus of an ever-expanding circle of iconoclastic, experimental artists of many stripes.
Sharp plays what passes for a fairly staid instrument in his collection: a bass and guitar doubleneck, in 1992.
Elliott is still in that building in the East Village, though it is now only his workplace and not his living space. I am trying to remember exactly when I met Elliott, but it was probably about 25 years ago, and he still had only the one small, original apartment and a shared music space in the Garment District. I, like countless others before and after me, stayed in that East Village apartment whenever I needed a place to crash and Elliott was elsewhere, and eventually he was able to secure the next door apartment and expand his space. This is where Elliott Sharp works every day that he is not touring, pretty much 9 to 6. The place is a bit funky and dusty, and it is filled with instruments, amps (some classics, like a mid-’60s Princeton Reverb and a tweed Champ), and other tools accumulated over many decades—in spite of the many times that certain ones had to be sold to keep bread on the table.
When he’s not composing, scoring films, recording other artists, or gigging with the bands he has been in or led for the last several decades (Mofungo, Carbon/Orchestra Carbon, SysOrk, Terraplane, The Bootstrappers, Aggragat), Elliott tinkers with guitars, pedals, mandolins. Elliott is, to me, the king of guitar transformation, and his tinkering is stunningly Frankensteinian as he guts, rebuilds, and alters all kinds of stringed instruments, both electric and acoustic. He recently told me that in the ’60s he built fuzz boxes out of tobacco tins to make money. How cool would it be to have one of those now?? If one does a search on Elliott Sharp, many photos will reveal what I'm talking about: the handcrafted doubleneck he was most often seen playing in the ’80s (there was maybe more than one), 8-string guitars, modified Strat-type guitars with completely different pickups.. He also has a fancy guitar or two, such as his Koll fanned-fret 8-string, upon which he has played many a solo recital. During Covid time,, things were a little slow in the cash-flow department and, as a family man with twins, a little extra income was needed. So Elliott started building really cool-looking guitars out of cheap
ones and parts from wherever and refinishing them in hip and attractive ways and called them Mutantu. He sold them to friends and friends of friends. Yours truly basically only changes strings on his guitars, appealing helplessly to experts to do any kind of work on his guitars and amps, afraid of costly errors. The maverick and multifaceted among us, like Elliott, possess no such fear.
Even a leader in experimental 6-string gets a little guitar face now and then—especially when he’s playing blues.
Photo by Scott Friedlander
So, back to that promised day in the life of Elliott Sharp (as imagined, with some degree of knowledge, by me): It’s early morning, and there is family to contend with. No bohemian lollygagging! So it’s feed the kids breakfast, do what parents must do. Then it’s off to the office (his studio), so Elliott dons a fine gray shirt (is that silk?), dark trousers, coat, and hat, and walks north from the family apartment on nearly the lowest point of eastern Manhattan to the East Village. The traffic and endless refurbishing of the Williamsburg Bridge roars familiarly overhead, the East River flows, and eventually a river of another kind, Houston Street, is crossed. Up the stairs to the fifth floor and the studio door is unlocked. Espresso is made. (There will be more of this.) The computer is turned on. And then ... who knows? Anything could be on the docket, but some sort of work will ensue for a good eight hours. Maybe a new graphic score for a German symphony is in the works (some of these have become visual artworks, too), or maybe it's time to try another mix of that Terraplane track, the one with Elliott’s friend, hero, and inspiration Hubert Sumlin—the one Elliott recorded not long before the famed Howlin’ Wolf guitarist joined his ancestors in the Great Beyond. Or maybe he’s recording a variation on his trio ERR Guitar (where he was originally joined by Marc Ribot and Mary Halvorson), called ERE Guitar Today, with Sally Gates and Tashi Dorji. Could happen—and it did. You can see Elliott’s studio in the ERE Guitar CD booklet.
Or maybe it’s guitar tinkering/building time. Where’s that delightfully chunky neck from China that would be awesome on that fake Tele body that was just refitted with no-name humbuckers (“sounded good once I removed the pickup covers,” Elliott observes) and a resophonic guitar tailpiece? By 5 or 6 it’s time to go home, maybe cook dinner tonight. And then ... my little imagined epic ends with a tasteful cinematic cliché: the dissolve.
The E# Way
Elliott Sharp has techniques that, in some cases, are all his own. No stranger to open tunings, prepared guitar, and other extended techniques, he often utilizes rhythmic, two-hand tapping to create spiraling, hypnotic patterns. His composing over these many years has employed and embraced genetics, Fibonacci numbers, algorithms, and fractal geometry. Though a mathematics and physics know-nothing myself, I see and hear a relationship between these elements as he has applied them to his uncompromisingly avant-garde compositions and these tapping patterns often heard in his solo work. Once he kicks in signal processing, stand back! What one hears sounds like four people (or other species and life forms), and the sensation is exhilarating. Sure, there could also be evidence of (here it comes) skronk (I can't believe I used that word), but Elliott certainly does not reside permanently in that world. Enjoying all kinds of sounds, from the lonesome moan of a resonator guitar to the aleatoric sputterings and squeals of a tormented electric guitar, is something he and I share, after all. Take, for example, two of his latest recordings on his zOaR imprint, Mandorleand Mandocello, which document his solo work on the two instruments, respectively. Both recordings investigate the instruments’ acoustic characteristics before, about half-way through, switching suddenly to electric, ultra-processed sounds. It’s a bracing experience that explains a few things about this man and the breadth of his aesthetic sweep. The sounds bring up images of recombinant DNA (information on which he has also imbued into his work), roiling lava, and the ever-expanding universe. Recommended!
Sharp applies his wicked two-handed-tapping technique to his 8-string, fanned-fret guitar built by Saul Koll.
Photo by Scott Friedlander
So, this might fit into the aforementioned TMI category, but Elliott Sharp puts out a staggering amount of recordings. Every time I see him (which is not often enough), he has a little pile of compact discs for me, often on zOaR. I saw somewhere recently that he has released 165 recordings, but I think there are probably more than that. It’s hard for even the data lords to keep up! But it’s not always Elliott Sharp pieces or improvisation/collaborations on these albums. Other artists whom Elliott knows and respects can be represented, such as Spanish electric guitarist/conceptualizer A. L. Guillén, late bassist/producer Peter Freeman, Italian voice and guitar duo XIPE, or Hardenger fiddle player Agnese Amico—all articulate and singular musicians whom Elliott assists by releasing their music. I am grateful for this. It’s obviously more “work” for Elliott, and he accomplishes it, along with everything else he takes on or imagines doing, with elegant aplomb. Though obviously a nose-to-the-grindstone worker, Elliott is generally low-key and relaxed, even after those espressos.
The last thing I want to write about is Elliott's interpretations of the music of Thelonious Monk. Are you surprised, even after everything else you have just read, that something like that exists? In 2003, Elliott released a solo acoustic guitar recording called Sharp? Monk? Sharp! Monk!, and stunned the world (well, those few who pay attention to such things). However, my first exposure to Elliott's Monk interpretations was the more recent Monkulations, expertly recorded live in Vienna in 2007. (You can hear it on Bandcamp). These recordings are, justifiably I suppose, controversial in certain corners, because they do not adhere to Monk's exact written particulars note-for-note. Yet the mood, gestures, rhythmic wonders, and even the harmonic depth of Thelonious Monk often emerges, and frequently in astonishing ways. I understand why some would take issue with this approach because it departs significantly from the jazz tradition, but I find it remarkably fresh, bold, and so delightfully E#. They reveal an aspect of Elliott’s thinking and playing that is surprising in some ways, but also so him. It is clear to me that Elliott has seriously examined and internalized Monk’s repertoire.
Spring(s) in the garden: Sharp can use just about any tool in his improvisations.
Photo by Norman Westberg
Elliott is an artist who plays more than one instrument, plays them all in unique, startling, and often innovative ways, composes rigorous conceptual works from chamber music to operas, makes electronic music with no guitar, plays mean blues guitar like a swamp rat, authors books (I highly recommend his mostly memoir IrRational Music, and a second book is emerging this fall), builds and modifies guitars and other devices, is stunningly prolific, and is an elegant gentleman. The planet is a better place with him and his work in it. The maverick and multifaceted often have a rough road to tread, as we all know. So check out Elliott Sharp's vast world if any of this seems interesting to you. Thanks, Elliott!
YouTube
Watch Elliott Sharp and Marc Ribot deliver a masterclass in free improvisation at Manhattan’s Cornelia Street Café in 2010—Sharp’s two-handed tapping and slide playing included.
Elliott Sharp’s Favorite Gear
This doubleneck guitar accompanied Sharp on many of his ’80s performances and is one of his earlier experimental instruments, as is this 8-string.
Road
Guitars
• Strandberg 8-string Boden
• 1996 Henderson-Greco 8-string
Amp
• Fender Deluxe Reverb or black-panel Twin Reverb (depending on size of venue)
• Trace-Elliot bass amp w 4x10 cabinet
(live rig uses both amps, run in stereo)
Effects
• Eventide H90 w/ Sonicake expression pedal
• Sonicake Fuzz
• Hotone Komp
• Hotone Blues
• TC Electronic Flashback 2
• VSN Twin Looper
Accessories
• Slides, EBows, springs, metal rods and strips, small wooden and ceramic square plates
Home
Guitars
• 1946 Martin OO-18 acoustic guitar
• 2006 Squier 51 (Sharp explains: “On New Year's Day 2007, I took the twins down to the East River in their stroller. They were 15 months old and knew a few words. As we rolled along, they started shouting “guitar, guitar,” and, sure enough, sticking out of a garbage can was a black Squier 51 that someone had attempted to ritually sacrifice. Brought it home and cleaned it, and it’s become a favorite couch guitar.”)
Obviously, any sound that emerges from the Triple-Course Bass Pantar is likelly to be interesting.
Studio
Guitars and stringed instruments
• Fender 1994 ’50s Telecaster built from a Fender-offered kit
• Mutantum lime green metalflake Strat w/Seymour Duncan Little ’59 pickups
• Mutantum solidbody “manouche” Strat w/classical neck
• Saul Koll custom 8-string
• Rick Turner Renaissance Baritone
• 1966 Epiphone Howard Roberts
• 1965 Harmony Bobkat
• 1984/’96 Heer-Henderson Doubleneck
• 1956 Gibson CF-100 acoustic guitar
• 1968 Hagstrom H8 8-string bass
• Mutantum Norma fretless electric
• Godin Multiac Steel Duet
• 2001 Dell’Arte Grande Bouche
• 1958 Fender Stringmaster 8-string console steel guitar
• 1936 Rickenbacker B6 lap steel
• 1950s Framus Nevada Mandolinetto
• Mutantum Electric Mandocello
• Arches H-Line
• Triple-Course Bass Pantar
Amps
• 1966 Fender black-panel Princeton Reverb
• 1980 Fender 75 (Per Sharp: “Cut down to a head and modded by Matt Wells into a Dumble-ish monster! For recording, it plugs into a 1x10 cab with a Jensen speaker or a Hartke Transporter 2x10 cab
• 1970 Fender Bronco
• 1960 Fender tweed Champ modded by Matt Wells
Effects and Electronics
• Vintage EHX 16-Second Delay w/foot controller
• Eventide H3000
• Eventide PitchFactor
• Lexicon PCM42
• ZVEX Fuzz Factory
• Summit DCL-200 Compressor Limiter
• SSL SiX desktop
• Prescription Electronics Experience
• Zoom Ultra Fuzz
• Korg MS-20 analog synthesizer
• Korg Volca Modular synthesizer
• Make Noise 0-Coast synthesizer
• Moog Moogerfooger Ring Modulator
• Moog Moogerfooger Low-Pass Filter
• Softscience Optical Compressor (for DI recording, custom made by Kevin Hilbiber)
Strings
• Ernie Ball Regular Slinky (.010–.046) or Power Slinky (.011–.048), for conventional guitar.
