For so many musicians, the flaws in our playing stick out loud and clear. So, how can we let go and just play?
“Be your own artist, and always be confident in what you’re doing. If you’re not going to be confident, you might as well not be doing it.” —Aretha Franklin
Many, if not most, musicians I know suffer from something I call music dysmorphia. As people who suffer from body dysmorphic disorder torture themselves with an overwhelming preoccupation of their perceived flaws, be they real or imaginary, musicians often listen back to their musical performances and only hear what they don’t like. (Timing is rushed, tone’s too thin or too bassy, note choice too cliché or too weird; it’s never quite right to their ears). I know a ton of players who are way better musicians than I will ever be, yet they genuinely don’t like the way they play. It’s not false modesty, it’s the inability to process reality accurately.
I see it come up often during Rig Rundowns. Usually, players begin the interview by playing a 15- to 45-second improvised introduction. Often, they’ll be playing, it all sounds great, then they hit something they don’t really like. They get a frustrated look on their face and ask to take it again. But now they are in their heads. The second take usually feels a bit self-conscious, not as free and flowing as the first take. You can almost hear their thoughts: “This will be online forever, evidence of my poor playing.” You rarely hear a second take that has the magic of the first one because they’re thinking about being judged.
The author with one of Nashville’s finest, Tom Bukovac.
Photo by Chris Kies
I know there’s a disparity between the music that I hear in my head when I’m playing and the music I’m actually playing. I often phone-record songs on my gig to gather some evidence of what I actually sound like: check the tone, timing, note choice. There are gigs where I feel ashamed of what’s coming out of my amp, but when I listen back, it’s fine, sometimes even good. Other times, I think I’m killing it, but when I hear the recording, I feel a crushing pain of disappointment combined with deep shame.
I suspect we all sound the best when nobody is listening. When you have an audience, then you judge yourself because you think you are being judged. Why should we care? Music is not a contest, it’s art.
“People respond to reckless abandon in art.”
There is no agreed definition of what constitutes art. Art is subjective. There are no wrong decisions with art, so we should be cool with whatever we play. Sadly, that’s not the case. I suspect that’s because music means so much to us. Playing music is not just something we do, it’s who we are. When I was younger, I worked a wide variety of jobs, but I never felt bad about being a terrible roofer, waiter, factory worker, or teacher, because this was just something I had to do for money—it was not my life’s goal. But being a musician is not only my passion and my job, it is how I am wired. Music is my identity. So when I play and it sounds like I can’t play, my sense of self is called into question: What am I doing with my life? Who am I? Performing for others means putting our tiny, naked heart in our hands, and offering it to God and everybody to be judged. That’s a scary, vulnerable position.
I was jamming with Austin Mercuri, a great bass-player buddy of mine, and I asked him if he thinks music dysmorphia is a thing. He agreed that it totally is a thing, and he gave an interesting insight. Austin said, “Ever notice when you record something comedic, like a parody, it turns out so great musically? Because it’s tongue-in-cheek, any mistakes or oversteps just make it better, so you go for stuff beyond what you’ve done before, take crazy chances fearlessly, and they work.” That’s the trick: Don’t care, then you can explore without any second guessing or fear of judgment, because you’re just goofing off. People respond to reckless abandon in art.
As a musician, you’re probably not going to find happiness by comparing your playing to others, which is pretty much impossible. For example, my friend Tom Bukovac and I moved to Nashville around the same time. I’ve watched his career take off and felt the sting of envy for years. But now, I listen to Buk play and the only thing I feel is inspiration and awe. With innate talent and an obsessive work ethic, Buk developed this ability to tap into music, where it flows through him, unhindered by doubt or self-consciousness. Why should Buk’s brilliance, or anybody else’s, make me feel bad about my thing? Get back to why you started playing in the first place. Stop thinking, just play.
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With a few minor fingering adjustments another world of musical expression can be unlocked.
Beginner
Beginner
- Look at the pentatonic scale in a new light.
- Understand how to navigate diagonally across the fretboard.
- Use this newfound knowledge to create more musical phrases.
Likely the first melodic device any improvising musician learns is the pentatonic scale. It’s a simple pattern to learn on guitar, it’s easy to play, and it always sounds “correct.” It contains mostly the “good” notes and usually you don’t need to think too much about which notes to avoid. What’s not to love? After a while, however, a certain sameness begins to emerge, and one begins to wonder, “Is there something more here?” Well, it has much more to offer than what you see on the surface.
How do you play a pentatonic scale?
One of the first shapes that guitarists learn when starting to explore the pentatonic scale is the ubiquitous box in Ex. 1. And why not? It’s a simple pattern to memorize, it’s easy to play, and you can get musical sounding results almost immediately. In fact, if you play these notes in just about any order, play in time, and exercise some logical phrasing, you can’t really mess it up.
There is a wealth of guitar vocabulary in this simple device. Eric Johnson, Eric Clapton, Eric Gales, and other legendary guitarists not named Eric have demonstrated this for decades. However, the two-note-per-string nature of the pattern can limit your phrasing. Let’s dive into a few simple things we can do to inject some articulations into an otherwise choppy march across the fretboard.
This isn’t a “Stop doing this and start doing that” proposition but rather a supplement to your bag of badassery that you’ve accumulated. Let’s remap some of the notes found in Ex. 1 to other strings to elongate the scale along the neck rather than simply march across it (Ex. 2).
Notice that we alternate between two notes on a string and three notes on a string. Add some strategic slides into the mix and our little fretboard square dance gets a welcome dose of swagger. Naturally, we will need to practice this descending pattern (Ex. 3) as well. These fingerings have a certain hipness that the box lacks.
Ex. 4 features a nice blues gesture that exemplifies the articulations that this fingering invites. Judicious use of bends, slides, hammer-ons, and pull-offs make the magic happen.
Double-Stop the Presses
The slippery fourths found on adjacent strings combined with an eighth-note delay summon an early ’80s funk/pop feeling. Play Ex. 5 with long legato notes and have a glass of chardonnay on hand for a funky smooth-jazz vibe.
Two often-used tricks are the sliding fourths/hammer-on double-stop phrases in Ex. 6. Once again, it’s the strategic use of slides, hammer-ons, and pull-offs that make the slinky goodness happen. These tasty double-stop licks are useful chordal accents in your solos or R&B-style rhythm parts. Even though Ex. 6 is a bucket of pentatonic scale phrases over a I–VIm–IIm–V chord progression, the double-stops provide a harmonically informed sound. Think Mateus Asato, Stevie Ray Vaughan, or Jimi Hendrix.
Get Louder … Without Turning Up
Did you know that two notes are louder than one? How ’bout that? Next time you’re playing at your local blues jam and the well-intentioned but way-too-loud rhythm player tempts you to turn up your amp, don’t do it. You’ll just add to the problem. Instead try some double-stops (Ex. 7). It transforms otherwise basic melodies into majestic, purposeful, and yes, louder statements without adding to a never-ending volume war.
Peace, Love, and Understanding
Play some nice rhythm guitar without banging out all those barre chords. Yes, barre chords are useful but sometimes it’s just way too much. Guitarists already have to deal with the stigma of being eye-rolling loud. Why is that? The bottom portion of the chord (the power chord part) is an essential sound if you’re in a rock band. But in a blues, R&B, jazz, or country setting, it can sound muddy (and kinda stupid). The low-register notes are getting in your bass player’s way and the keyboard player, by default, is already annoyed at you. Let’s be friends with these folks and sound better in the process.
Reimagining the pentatonic box will add depth and vibe to your playing. And using smaller double-stops versus banging out giant fists-full of notes not only tends to make the band sound better but they’re easier to play too. As a bonus you just may find that your solos sound fuller and more interesting. Don’t forget to acknowledge the perceptive audience that applauds your tasty masterpiece.