My Advise To Young Players

As I approach my 26th year of being a musician, I am coming to realize some very important things about music.

I started playing guitar when I was 9. It was a special time. Any musician will be able to relate to that special feeling they got when they first picked up and instrument and made a sound with it that resembled music. That, to me, is what music is. I’m sure that many centuries ago, primitive man picked up some sort of appendage, banged against another appendage, and made a musical sound with it. There was no notation, no staff, no time signature or technique. Music was simply a way of expressing oneself on an artistic level.

When I was 9, that’s all music was. Even the simplest of sounds that I could produce thrilled me because I could find ways to use those sounds to express myself. I could alter my mood by simply altering what I played. Often, the way I was feeling dictated the manner that I played the guitar. I had discovered a beautiful, expressive art form, and I was only 9 years old-a very lucky 9 year old.

Soon after, I began to learn theoretical principals without even being conscience of it. For instance, I distinctly remember hearing the tonal similarities between an "A minor" chord and a "C" chord (relative major/minor). I could tell the difference between major chords and minor chords just by the sound and could form them just by moving one finger (altering the major third to a minor third). However, all of this was instinctual. I still had no knowledge of terminology or theory per se.

During this period (from age 9 to about twenty) I was an adventurer. Sure, I learned some licks and blues scales, but I really didn’t have any idea what they were all about or where they came from. I just started to learn what worked and what didn’t. This was a very crucial point in my life because I had reached a musical crossroads. It is a point that, I’m sure, every musician reaches. Some get to this pivot early and begin the journey into theory and technique; others simply persevere and continue what they were doing on their own. The hard part is deciding what road to take at this point.

Joni Mitchell, for example, took the "artistic road", as I like to call it. Joni tunes her guitar differently than anyone else. She creates chords, rather than learning them. Her song writing, as well as her playing, is all instinctual. She has a limited knowledge of theory, but knows her own style inside and out. Her music is solely a form of self-expression based around her limited knowledge of what she’s doing. That is the genius of Joni Mitchell. In fact, many others have taken this limited musical knowledge and ran with it. I often call Neil Young "the world’s greatest bad guitarist". Neil is technically limited, but nobody can sound remotely like him. Some of my favorite technical guitar players list Neil Young as a huge influence.

I began to realize that I wasn’t going to be a rock star when I got into my mid-20s, so I began to pursue the theoretical side of things much more diligently that I had been. I figured that being a full-time musician meant having the ability to play with almost anyone, at any time. You had to be able to grasp many styles and complex musical concepts at the drop of a hat, so I began to work towards that goal. I desperately wanted the ability to walk up on a stage full of jazz musicians, plop a chart in front of me and play confidently. Truthfully, I was actually moving towards that goal rather well.

Then I stopped myself short of really grasping the complexities and subtleties. I decided to go back into the work force and rest on my musical laurels. It was a crucial decision.

What ended up happening was that I became stuck in limbo. I am in between the point of artistic expression and vast knowledge of my instrument and the mathematics of it. Often times I am frustrated when I am unable to do a gig because I can’t read notation, or don’t know my modes that well. Other times my frustration lies in the fact that I can’t play simply enough and I try to fit all the things I know into two bars of music. It is a terrible place to be. My self-expression got lost in a myriad of mathematical musical concepts. Conversely, my need to just thump my way through a song limits my ability to play the complex music I once strived to play.

I urge young players to make a choice early on. Both roads are equally valid, and both roads are very noble. If you choose to take the limited knowledge you have and run with it, do so. However, do so wisely. It is your muse that drives this decision. You have to really want to pursue your own creativity, ultimately taking to new levels every day. Don’t just choose this rout because you are lazy. If that is the case, you are destined to play John Denver songs around campfires for what will seem like eternity. Take this road because you have something to say and that you truly believe in it. Take this road because you think that others will relate to it. Your musical ability is a gift, even in a limited capacity. It is not just a gift to you, but to the world. Don’t deprive them, or yourself, of it.

If you decide that you want to play with technical prowess, walk down that road with confidence. Be fearless and strong, for it is a hard road (although both are, actually). Just like the world needs people to create new musical ideas, it also needs technically gifted players to realize portions of that vision that the creator can’t execute on their own. Hell, just listen to Bob Dylan records and you’ll know what I mean. I mean, Bob was amazing, but his bands carried his music up a level.

More than anything, never lose the joy of that first time you made a sound with an instrument. Try to hold that feeling forever. Every time you pick up you weapon of choice, pretend it’s your first time, if only just for a second. That’s what music is. That feeling.