You can stare at the Mona Lisa and just feel its power, or you can wonder why she doesn’t have eyebrows and miss the experience.
If you’re constantly getting lost in the details, you might miss out on the enjoyment of things.
Life is like an Impressionist painting: You look too close and it’s just confusing, blurry blobs of paint, all textured and ugly. Stand back and all those unsettling, seemingly random clumps become Monet’s Water Lilies. That’s why I’m a big picture guy … or at least I try to be.
But I’ve noticed something in myself as well as fellow musicians. We tend to look too closely at music and totally miss the big picture. Por ejemplo, I suspect musicians rarely enjoy live music as much as civilians do. Go to a show with non-players. They bob their heads, sway, bounce, dance, then they start shouting and shaking their fists and applauding like their hands are on fire. We stand there mostly stone-faced, watching and making notes in our heads.
We listen critically while the normals are letting music flow over them like a mighty river of groove and emotion. As I write this, I just remembered a college class I took called “Critical Listening,” where the prof put on records and we talked about what we didn’t like about them. (How stupid is college, right?) Maybe I chose the class because it sounded like an easy “A,” but the fact is, musicians do listen critically. I would much rather play music for the normals than for our nerd herd any day.
Ever notice that when another guitar player watches you play, they’ll say, “nice tone” or “cool 335,” but they rarely say anything about the actual notes? I think we musicians tend to be a bit socially awkward by nature, but this is beyond that. I suspect guitar players get caught up focusing on the details and miss the performance.
When I listen, I find myself tracking the groove, wondering if they’re rushing or if my internal clock is dragging. Or I’m counting and subdividing the beat or trying to guess how a guitar part is being played. If it’s a live show, I’m critiquing the mix and studying gear and comparing tones of different instruments. Joe and Jan 12-Pack sitting next to me can’t tell and don’t care if they’re hearing a Les Paul or a Strat—they’re too busy connecting to the Universe through music. Meanwhile, we guitar nerds are wondering what kind of overdrive pedal the guitar player is using.
I know every inch of my main guitars. I love them about as much as one can love an inanimate object without being creepy.
I wasn’t always this way. From 4th grade through 9th, I played in the school orchestra. I loved music but had no real feelings for my personal instrument. Although I played it five days a week, I’m not sure I could’ve picked my violin out of a lineup of 25 violins. It was just a tool for music that I had to be careful with because my parents would be pissed if I broke it.
Now I know every inch of my main guitars. I love them about as much as one can love an inanimate object without being creepy. I’m not as deeply invested emotionally with my amps, pedals, etc., but I waste even more time on them. I’ll have a night open where I’m just going to play guitar but instead spend hours just swapping pedals or tweaking my amp and auditioning different gear rather than actually playing.
These lost evenings are rarely satisfying. Whatever pedal/amp combination I settle on at 1 a.m. never sounds as good to me the next day at the gig. If I’m not actively tweaking my amp and pedals, I’m wondering if I should be. I catch myself on these late-night tone-quest obsessions and I try to talk myself down, thinking “this is ridiculous, just stop, go to bed.” But then I lie down, close my eyes and imagine myself changing pickups in a guitar. My obsessions seem a tad crazy. However, the fact that you’re reading a guitar rag suggests you can relate. Passion makes life worth living, but obsessions aren’t fun. They’re a compulsive preoccupation.
Examine anything critically and you’ll see what’s wrong with it. You can stare at da Vinci’s Mona Lisa and feel its power, or you can wonder why she doesn’t have eyebrows and miss the real experience. Similarly, you can listen to Jimmy Page’s isolated guitar track from “Ramble On” and shake your head at the timing and intonation or you can crank up the full song and be transported to a different world.
I’ve been trying to apply a “Big Picture” mindset to everything. When I look at my life too closely, at times it can easily be mistaken for a train wreck. But when I pull back, I see how all the jagged pieces of this beautiful catastrophe fit together perfectly even as they’re falling apart. It’s miraculous. Focus on the minutia, and you’re missing the best part.
Stuck in a rut? Wu-Tang may be the answer.
By learning new songs, maintaining your gear, and watching Wu-Tang, you can become a better, more well-rounded musician.
One of the best parts of being a musician is being around other musicians, but that can also be the worst thing about it. If you want proof, consider the glut of musician jokes. My favorite is about how to get a bandmate to the gig on time, which involves lying about the time of the gig. I’m not always punctual, so it’s no surprise that by the time you read this, the window for New Year’s resolutions may be closed. So, in the spirit of being behind the band by an entire measure, here are my resolution picks for you to add to the existing pile.
Learn the intro and solo to Dire Straits’ “Sultans of Swing.”
Guitarists and civilians alike revere Mark Knopfler. In a world of dweedley, un-hummable solos, Knopfler’s semi-chicken picking is so identifiable that decoding and memorizing this song will be sure to break that faux-Metallica thing you’ve been doing since middle school.
Restring all your guitars.
I’m just as tardy as you are when it comes to changing strings—maybe worse. It’s really not so hard once you’ve done it 15 times in a row, assuming you only have 15 guitars. By then it shouldn’t take you more than 10 minutes each. Just for fun, buy a 10-pack of high E strings and break a few on purpose by over-tightening. This will teach you that it’s not going to poke your eye out after all. Life-changing.
Learn to intonate, while you’re at it.
This is another chore whose complexity is exaggerated beyond all reality. Compare an open string note to its octave at the 12th fret. If the octave is sharp, move the saddle away from the nut; if flat, go the other direction. This takes 5 minutes, and anyone who tells you different is a serious underachiever.
Reacquaint yourself with the actual sound of guitar.
This is scary, but you have to face your worst fears. Use the most powerful amp you have—hopefully 100 watts. Remove all effects pedals from the signal chain and turn the amp’s master volume all the way up. Lower the gain until there is zero distortion, and then play to a click track for four days. At your next band rehearsal, use this same setup and try to make it work. This is the equivalent of running with weights or banging your head against a wall because it will feel great when you stop. Don’t cheat by claiming a compressor isn’t really an effect.
Your style of music may not require the use of the major VII#11, but sometimes cool chords can spark new ideas for songs.
Let others take more solos.
Undoubtedly, you are the superior soloist in your circle of friends, but as a role model, you must do your bit to let others shine. This involves backing off on volume and supporting the soloist. Just pretend that you’re only doing what you wish the other players would do for you. Resist the temptation to jump in at all costs. This will go a long way to cementing your place as a benevolent dictator.
Learn to play the drums.
This may be biting off more than you can chew, but if pandemic lockdowns have taught us something, it’s that anything is possible. You don’t have to be Neil Peart; just learn rudiments and work on some good beats. This is really important if you are a bassist, but it will really strengthen your rhythm guitar chops, too. You can get a practice pad and sticks for about $25, so even if you bail on improving your timing and newfound appreciation for drummers, it’s not the end of the world.
Watch the Wu-Tang Clan documentary, Of Mics and Men.
It’s hard to break out of your own little bubble, but understanding the greater world of music is essential. Even if you’re already a fan, it’s good to know how genres evolve and influence other musicians. Bonus points if you watch with a guitar and play along.
Get that amp in the corner fixed.
Once consigned to the hinterlands of your music room, noisy or intermittent amplifiers just get worse. Bite the bullet and bring it to a good amp tech before things really deteriorate. It might just be something simple, and you’ll be happy you’ve supported a small music-related business too.
Learn some college chords.
This is important for your overall human development. You may have quit medical school, but you can still be a lifetime learner. Your style of music may not require the use of the major 7#11, but sometimes cool chords can spark new ideas for songs. And while you’re trying to get your fingers to obey, you might discover some other interesting chords, too.
I hope you take these resolutions to heart, and that they make you a better, wiser musician. Oh yeah … and try to be on time.