Actor H. Jon Benjamin recorded a jazz album wherein he played piano, but he doesn’t know how to play piano. Let’s explore the musical conundrum of skill versus emotion.
“The guitar is the easiest instrument to play and the hardest to play well.” —Andrés Segovia
You probably know H. Jon Benjamin’s voice. He’s the voice actor for Archer in the animated sitcom Archer, as well as Bob in Bob’s Burgers, and Carl in Family Guy. (Okay, so I watch a lot of cartoons). In 2015, Benjamin recorded a jazz album, Well, I Should Have…, with some true jazzers—Scott Kreitzer on sax, David Finck on bass, Jonathan Peretz on drums—and Benjamin on piano. Here’s the twist: Benjamin does not play piano. Nor is he a fan of jazz. He just went for it, and Sub Pop released it.
Admittedly, I couldn’t make it through the entire album, but I did enjoy a two-song serving. Most of the time, Benjamin sounds like a not particularly gifted 13-month-old child in a room with a piano and little else to entertain him. His timing is … well … time-less: a bit like tennis shoes in a dryer. His note choice is arbitrary, there’s no sense of melody or dynamics, but every now and then, he plays something that sounds like music, usually when he gave it some space. Regardless, the band was swinging, so his pocketless nonsense sometimes kind-of worked. Honestly, I’ve been lost at a gig or a session and sounded about as musical as Benjamin until I recovered. As you might imagine, the album angered a lot of jazzers (who kind of seem a little angry anyway), but if the point of jazz is to push boundaries and transcend norms in a spirit of true artistic experimentation—mission accomplished.
Who hasn’t listened to jazz and wondered, “Did they mean to do that?” Throughout Thelonious Monk’s entire career, there were people who saw him, heard him, and even hired him, who thought Monk didn’t know how to play piano; as if his entire career was a ruse, a deep fake. With his fingers splayed out and attacking the keys in this unorthodox method, all that dissonance and weirdness combined with mental illness made Monk’s music a bit difficult to digest. But that’s art: genius working on the border of the frontier of new ideas is rarely recognized.
“As you might imagine, the album angered a lot of jazzers (who often seem a little angry anyway), but if the point of jazz is to push boundaries and transcend norms in a spirit of true artistic experimentation, mission accomplished.”
On the other hand, you don’t have to know what you’re doing to make good, or even great music. Even a cat walking across a piano can play something cool, or creepy, and almost always engaging. Even when a musician really knows what they’re doing, there are often bits of music that go beyond what the player is capable of crafting intentionally. That’s part of music’s magic—play long enough, and your fingers will unconsciously stumble into a cool riff or melody. It may be dumb luck, or it may be that the player is channeling some benevolent spirit of music who sings through them.
For an example of channeling, check out Daniel Lanois. He’s produced and played on a handful of albums that are on Rolling Stone’s “500 Greatest Albums of all Time” list. When I watch Lanois play guitar or pedal steel, I get the feeling he has no idea where he’s going, or what he’s playing. It feels like he’s connected to something spiritual, and the result is something between a prayer and a howl.
That’s why those Lanois albums hold up so well. If a hired-gun guitar virtuoso played those sessions, those parts probably wouldn’t have said as much. Most studio aces would play something they’ve played before. It would sound great, but probably wouldn’t be as effective as Lanois’ playing. If you know your instrument extremely well and work out a clever part, you run the risk of thinking your way out of the emotion. It happens to great players regularly, so maybe it’s hard to let the muse drive the ship when you’re a highly skilled captain. Kurt Cobain was not a technically gifted guitarist, but Nirvana’s body of work expressed something—angst, depression, alienation—that millions of people immediately related to, so much that Nevermind single-handedly changed popular music. At a time when popular music was “Nothin’ but a Good Time,” big, teased hair, guy-liner, and garish colors, Cobain didn’t shy away from dealing with negative emotions and the challenges of life. In fact, he embraced it and connected with the masses.
“But that’s art: Genius working on the border of the frontier of new ideas is rarely recognized.”
Music does not discriminate. It can be created by anybody: geniuses, idiots, children, or senile old people with one foot in the grave. There are no sure things. You can spend a lifetime dedicated to creating music, become a brilliant musician, and still occasionally sound like you have no idea what you’re doing. As blues great Coco Montoya told me during his Rig Rundown, “Sometimes you get Coco, sometimes you get caca.”
John Bohlinger shows off his glove game at Nashville’s Nissan Stadium before his musical director gig at the NHL Stadium Series 2022 on February 26.
At a recent outdoor NHL Stadium Series performance, it was so cold that my hands went numb. So, I had to improvise.
Last month, I wrapped the NHL Stadium Series at Nashville’s Nissan Stadium in front of 68,619 screaming fans and an army of TV production, crew, etc. The network chose to lean into Nashville’s Music City theme by including performances by 12 of the city’s biggest names in music. About a month ago, the director, Michael Dempsey, whom I worked with on several award shows, hired me as the music director. Here’s how it went.
The NHL set three stages across the front of Nissan field. At stage left was Miranda Lambert, at stage right was Dierks Bentley, and center stage was the house band with 10 other acts including Dustin Lynch, Lindsay Ell (check out her Rig Rundown), Tiera Kennedy, A. Jay and Jeremy Popoff of the band Lit, Frankie Ballard, Coffey Anderson, Joshua Hedley, Morgan Evans, Jackson Dean, and Bexar. I had played TV spots with five of these artists before, so that made it a bit more comfortable for them and me. But the rest were strangers, and we were doing this live in front of a packed stadium and millions viewing at home, so there was some pressure.
Once the artist settled on their songs, I had an idea of what instrumentation we needed. I hired five friends to cover bass/BG, drums, keys/BG, steel/banjo/guitar, fiddle/accompaniment/percussion, along with your humble scribe, me, on guitar.
I was about to play all the guitar with 10 artists in front of millions of people. That stress combined with this painful cold shut my brain down.
I then edited the songs to fit a limited TV time, then made mockups of the arrangements on GarageBand so the artist and producers could get an idea of what they would sound like. Once production and the artists signed off on the arrangements, I wrote charts and sent them to the band. I then listened through and decided on instrumentation, and wrote a road map of who plays what, sent it to the band and audio, then trusted everyone to do their homework.
The plan was to rehearse the songs Friday night during our load-in/soundcheck, but nature did not cooperate. It had been raining on and off for days, and by the time we hit the stage it was freezing. My hands went numb, and I could not play. Nick Jonas had, like, eight bad bars of a solo in one award show, and now you never see him play (he’s an incredibly talented musician). I was about to play all the guitar with 10 artists in front of millions of people. That stress combined with this painful cold shut my brain down.
I literally could not hold a pick during our soundcheck. The next morning, I filled my pockets with Fred Kelly Bumblebee thumbpicks (as seen in the Steve Earle Rig Rundown). I like thumbpicks when I’m trying to hack my way through a fingerstyle acoustic song, or playing pedal steel, but for me it’s never as comfortable as a flat-pick on electric. But I had no choice.
Then I cut the fingers off a pair of driving gloves I found in my closet. I kept the thumb on the left hand. I hesitated, because they were expensive/new gloves, but I’m not the kind of person to wear driving gloves, so what the hell was I saving these for? Admittedly, it was a rocky start getting used to playing with gloves and a thumbpick, but I had to embrace the challenge and hope for the best. I put on thermal long johns, sweatpants, jeans, two pairs of socks with thermal boots, two shirts, three coats, and one of the Nashville Predators hockey jerseys and hats that production had given the band.
Our columnist and his team fire it up onstage.
Our call time was 11:15 a.m. and we had 15 minutes set aside to rehearse each artist. The band had never actually played together when the artists arrived onstage for a pre-show run-through. But my friends in the band are pros, so it sounded great despite not rehearsing.
Although I loaded the charts on my iPad, I brought the original paper charts just in case, and I’m glad I did, because the extreme cold killed my iPad between the rehearsal and showtime. I also brought two amps, two Les Pauls, and two Strats (tuned to Eb), just in case the cold killed any electronics, taking the belt-and-suspenders approach to ensure I got through it.
The combination of preparation and luck paid off. The producers got some portable heaters onstage, the weather was cold but not unbearable, and the performances all went well.
The show must go wrong, and yet maybe all that tension, uncertainty, and fear is essential to a good show. If you scored every shot, won every hand of poker, and never missed a note, life would be boring. The trick is to get comfortable with the curve balls and don’t beat yourself up over the misses.
That night, as I was unloading my gear, a freezing rain began to fall. I was so grateful that I wasn’t schlepping my coverless amps through the downpour. I’m not making this up for dramatic effect; real life is truly dramatic. Disasters lurk everywhere, and yet it’s usually a happy ending.
Cheap Trick at Budokan is a live concert album recorded in 1978 at Tokyo’s Nippon Budokan arena. The Japanese recognized Cheap Trick was great, then the rest of the world followed.
Many bands, like Cheap Trick, experienced breakout success in the Land of the Rising Sun. Here’s my take on what to expect when touring there.
In 6th grade, my progressive parents agreed to let me go see KISS, despite a local church picketing the venue with signs that read “Satan’s Favorite Band” and “K.I.S.S. = Kings in Satan’s Sanctuary.” The opening act was then-unknown Cheap Trick. At the time, their two-nerd/two-cool-guy lineup seemed lame next to the Starchild, Catman, Spaceman, and Demon.
Amazingly, this nearly anonymous opening act was already big in Japan. When Cheap Trick at Budokan came out a year later, it proved they had enough juice to stuff the Nippon Budokan arena with 12,000 screaming fans. The Japanese recognized Cheap Trick was great, then the rest of the world followed. A success story like that makes every struggling musician want to tour in Japan. Now that I’ve done it a few times, I can confirm that it’s nearly as cool as I thought it would be. Here’s some tips for touring in the Land of the Rising Sun.
Getting there:
It’s about 14 hours in the air from NYC to Tokyo and about 12 from L.A. I’ve taken both routes, and each trip took roughly 24 hours from the time I left my home in Nashville until I was through customs. Depending on where you live, Japan is 15 hours ahead of the U.S., but if you hit the ground running, the jet lag isn’t bad.
Amazingly, the promoter met us as soon as we landed in Osaka, which is 450 miles away from Kumamoto, where we were playing. After an introduction, he handed every band member a big envelope with cash, our per diem, then personally walked us to the next flight and traveled with us to Kumamoto. That would be like a Nashville promoter flying to Charlotte, North Carolina, to meet an act and holding their hand to the gig. It’s just not done here. But the Japanese leave nothing to chance.
Gear:
Per usual, I checked one guitar and crammed a small pedalboard into my suitcase. Backline amps are often a bit of a gamble, but not in Japan. All the backline gear was exactly what we asked for, in perfect shape, and they had backup options. Our front-of-house engineer had sent a photo of his mixing board to the promoter, which included some taped labels on channels. In the photo, the engineer happened to have a pack of Marlboro Reds and a green lighter in the upper-right-hand corner. When we arrived at the gig, not only was his board already labeled like his home board, but there was a fresh pack of Marlboro Reds and a green lighter in the upper right-hand corner. The Japanese care about every detail.
A jet-lagged bandmate twice left her envelope of cash at the counter of a restaurant. Both times an employee chased us down the street to return the cash.
Tattoos:
There are some cultural differences. In 720 A.D., tattoos were used as punishment in Japan, where criminals’ foreheads were tattooed for civilians to witness the severity of their crime. Rulers during the Edo period (around 1600) banned tattoos altogether. The ban was not lifted until 1948. To this day, many businesses and institutions ban tattoos. To be a good guest, hide your tats.
No crime:
I’ve been in more than 50 countries but never any place safer and cleaner than Japan. You can walk their pristine streets anytime without fear of being robbed or harmed. A jet-lagged bandmate twice left her envelope of cash at the counter of a restaurant. Both times an employee chased us down the street to return the cash.
Nightlife:
If you like booze, Japan could be a good fit for you. Japanese men seem to drink on a competitive level. It’s odd because everything is so orderly and clean in Japan, but you’ll see well-dressed businessmen in a state of fubar, stumbling down the street late at night.
If you smoke cigarettes, you’re going to be pleasantly surprised. There were no smoking restrictions until 2018. Even with current restrictions, you can still smoke cigs in many bars and restaurants. That’s not the case with smoking weed. Although the practice is legal in parts of the U.S., if caught with pot in Japan you could face a penalty of five years in prison. A road manager I toured with for years did a Japanese tour with a big American rock band who demanded they have weed in Tokyo. He said it was the scariest thing he’s ever done. Not only was he afraid of the law, but he was also terrified of the Yakuza who sold him the pot for nearly $1,000 per ounce. Don’t do drugs in Japan.
Lodging:
Japan is not as expensive as you may think. Although promoters usually cover travel, rooms, and per diem, you can find Airbnb apartments for $75 per night. A capsule hotel (a private sleeping pod with public bathroom) or a hostel is about $30 per night. General expenses felt comparable to New York City prices.
Plus, you will never play for a more polite crowd than in Japan. They listen attentively, applaud politely, and revere musicians.