Although I like to think of myself as a practical, pragmatic, all-business type of dude, the reality is that I am not. I am more likely a sensitive, sentimental dope who truly enjoys the holiday season for all of its ridiculousness and "good tidings" yadda yadda yadda.
With that in mind, it IS a good time to reflect on the past year and the many trials, tribulations, and good fortune. I traveled quite a bit this year, mostly for music. I'm grateful to get hired at all as a guitarist, as there are way too many of us. Every time I think that I'm a bad-ass on the guitar, I see someone who makes me look like a beginner. That's a good thing, as it keeps my massive ego in check.
"Massive ego?"
Yeah, I'll admit it. Well, maybe not massive, really, but probably larger than your average bear, I would guess. I think you have to have one, to a certain extent, to get on stage and make silly guitar faces. And what is ego, after all, but an identity of our own construction, an identity which is false. If we take all the beliefs of what we are – beliefs about our personality, talents, and abilities – we have the structure of our ego.
Ok, I nicked that last bit about ego, but hey -- it's true! And many of us as musicians/performers need that reinforcement of our beliefs -- whether real or imagined -- from total strangers in order to feel adequate. <<< [I came up with that myself!]
True or not true?
You decide. In the meantime, I'll be woodshedding all of the guitar parts I need to learn for the next tour in early January. Holy crap I have a lot of parts to learn!
Merry Christmas!
&
Happy New Year!
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Friday, November 21, 2014
Defining Success
I remember seeing an interview with Brent Spiner from "Star Trek: The Next Generation" many years ago. He was asked something about his success as an actor, and his response has stuck with me all of these years. He said (paraphrasing), "There are MANY levels of success, not just one or two.". I took that to mean that there is more than just nowhere/somewhere, failure/success, Madison Square Bedroom/Madison Square Garden. Many of us, as young performers, wished for rock stardom (or whatever kind of stardom you happen to wish for). There was only one level of success, in our minds, and that's full-on rock star. Well, I don't need to tell any of you good people that "full-on rock star" doesn't work out for most of us. Despite that, there are...wait for it...many levels of success, if you're willing to accept/embrace them.
The talent pool at my age is really more of a talent puddle.
As a guy in my 40's, I've watched many of my peers drop out and quit over time. Some were players that might have been able to do something had they stuck it out. But their idea of success was pass/fail, all-or-nothing -- and they never bothered to see the other opportunities that were there, or that ones could be created or cultivated. There are a billion guitar players that are 20. A fraction of those are still out there at 40. The reasons are often legitimate, don't get me wrong -- mortgages, families, car payments, etc. -- and it takes a special kind of determination (or is that stupidity?) to still be out there when you're not a kid anymore.
I'm not ashamed to call myself a rock guitarist -- in fact, I'm proud of it. It cuts a surprisingly wide swath when it comes to playing styles. Think about all of the players that could fall under the "rock" banner: Chuck Berry, Steve Cropper, Eric Clapton, Hendrix, Eddie Van Halen, Andy Summers, Tom Morello, Steve Vai...and on and on. If you're interested in learning enough of those styles, you can get a wider variety of gigs.
A few of my better gigs these days require the knowledge and ability to cover a lot of different types of guitar playing -- everything and anything from vaudeville, Sinatra, 60's girl groups, classic rock, soul/R&B, disco, and hard rock/metal. Many of my friends ask, "Ugh -- how can you play that?!?!". It's not necessarily the playing that's difficult, it's the having to play certain things that you don't like.
I remember the first gig I had where I really didn't like the material. It was a good situation that paid well, but the material was not what I would have preferred, to put it nicely. How do you deal with that? For me, it was fairly simple (in concept, at least):
Find something you like about whatever it is that you're playing.
I've had to play lots of disco over the years...[pauses for the reader's hysterical laughter to subside]....ok, you good now? Got yourself together? May I continue? Thanks.
...yeah, that's right -- disco. "Ok, I gotta find something I like about this stuff...."
It turns out that a lot of the session cats that played that stuff were bad-ass players. I've been lucky to work with a few of them, and they viewed these sessions as merely another day's work. Get past your opinions about the genre as a whole and listen to what some of these guys were doing. There's some great playing there. In other words, "Hey -- there IS something I can like about this stuff!"
Once you can apply that to anything you don't particularly like, your options for gigs can break wide open, if you're willing to embrace that.
So, am I the rock star I dreamed of being as a kid? Nope. Am I discovering that there are many levels of success along the way, particularly ones that keep me playing? Hell, yeah. They're out there, if you're willing.
The talent pool at my age is really more of a talent puddle.
As a guy in my 40's, I've watched many of my peers drop out and quit over time. Some were players that might have been able to do something had they stuck it out. But their idea of success was pass/fail, all-or-nothing -- and they never bothered to see the other opportunities that were there, or that ones could be created or cultivated. There are a billion guitar players that are 20. A fraction of those are still out there at 40. The reasons are often legitimate, don't get me wrong -- mortgages, families, car payments, etc. -- and it takes a special kind of determination (or is that stupidity?) to still be out there when you're not a kid anymore.
I'm not ashamed to call myself a rock guitarist -- in fact, I'm proud of it. It cuts a surprisingly wide swath when it comes to playing styles. Think about all of the players that could fall under the "rock" banner: Chuck Berry, Steve Cropper, Eric Clapton, Hendrix, Eddie Van Halen, Andy Summers, Tom Morello, Steve Vai...and on and on. If you're interested in learning enough of those styles, you can get a wider variety of gigs.
A few of my better gigs these days require the knowledge and ability to cover a lot of different types of guitar playing -- everything and anything from vaudeville, Sinatra, 60's girl groups, classic rock, soul/R&B, disco, and hard rock/metal. Many of my friends ask, "Ugh -- how can you play that?!?!". It's not necessarily the playing that's difficult, it's the having to play certain things that you don't like.
I remember the first gig I had where I really didn't like the material. It was a good situation that paid well, but the material was not what I would have preferred, to put it nicely. How do you deal with that? For me, it was fairly simple (in concept, at least):
Find something you like about whatever it is that you're playing.
I've had to play lots of disco over the years...[pauses for the reader's hysterical laughter to subside]....ok, you good now? Got yourself together? May I continue? Thanks.
...yeah, that's right -- disco. "Ok, I gotta find something I like about this stuff...."
It turns out that a lot of the session cats that played that stuff were bad-ass players. I've been lucky to work with a few of them, and they viewed these sessions as merely another day's work. Get past your opinions about the genre as a whole and listen to what some of these guys were doing. There's some great playing there. In other words, "Hey -- there IS something I can like about this stuff!"
Once you can apply that to anything you don't particularly like, your options for gigs can break wide open, if you're willing to embrace that.
So, am I the rock star I dreamed of being as a kid? Nope. Am I discovering that there are many levels of success along the way, particularly ones that keep me playing? Hell, yeah. They're out there, if you're willing.
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Evacuation!
No, I'm not talking about the tornado's-a-comin'/bomb-scare type of evacuation. I mean the bodily type. More specifically, how it relates to a touring musician.
"Is this a thing?", you ask? "Is it really worth discussing? Really???", you ask?
Well, sh*t [sorry] -- of course it's a thing. Everybody's got an evacuation routine. Being on the road totally messes that up. Not so much the timing of the routine, but the where and the when of it.
I'll give you an example. Ozzy Osbourne is famous for throwing buckets of water around the stage every night during his concerts. Part of the show? Sure, yeah. How did it get started? Simple: he couldn't hold it in and pissed his pants on stage, and covered it up with the bucket of water. Allegedly.
Then there's Fergie, from the Black Eyes Peas. We all heard about this a few years back, right? Some of us just kinda shrugged and felt bad for her. She works hard on stage, give her a break [A bathroom break? HAR HAR!].
Incontinence jokes aside, there isn't always time to relax with a fresh copy of Readers Digest for a long spell on the commode. Especially on the road.
And here's a good one many of you may not know. Rule #1 [see how I slid another pee joke in there?] for tour buses: Don't sh*t on the bus. Ever. It's not good, and everyone else on the bus WILL kill you for committing an act so foul, so undesirable...well, I think you get the.picture And, no, I've never done it.
"Is this a thing?", you ask? "Is it really worth discussing? Really???", you ask?
Well, sh*t [sorry] -- of course it's a thing. Everybody's got an evacuation routine. Being on the road totally messes that up. Not so much the timing of the routine, but the where and the when of it.
I'll give you an example. Ozzy Osbourne is famous for throwing buckets of water around the stage every night during his concerts. Part of the show? Sure, yeah. How did it get started? Simple: he couldn't hold it in and pissed his pants on stage, and covered it up with the bucket of water. Allegedly.
Then there's Fergie, from the Black Eyes Peas. We all heard about this a few years back, right? Some of us just kinda shrugged and felt bad for her. She works hard on stage, give her a break [A bathroom break? HAR HAR!].
Incontinence jokes aside, there isn't always time to relax with a fresh copy of Readers Digest for a long spell on the commode. Especially on the road.
And here's a good one many of you may not know. Rule #1 [see how I slid another pee joke in there?] for tour buses: Don't sh*t on the bus. Ever. It's not good, and everyone else on the bus WILL kill you for committing an act so foul, so undesirable...well, I think you get the.picture And, no, I've never done it.
Monday, November 17, 2014
Things I Get Asked
"Hey -- can you teach me to play the guitar, TOO?"
Nope.
You know why? I suck at teaching. Yep. I know that about myself now, have for quite some time. Oh sure, I taught for a few years during college, mainly because people kept asking me and offering me money. I mean, c'mon -- money to a college kid is like....gold! Ok, bad metaphor, but you get my drift. Oh, I could play. I just couldn't teach.
However, the old adage of "those who can't, teach!" is absolute crap. I have friends who are great players and great teachers. And they actually like teaching. I didn't, for the most part.
"How did you get good at it???"
Listen very carefully now, because I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Just between you and me and the internet. I practiced. A lot. Alone. For years. Because that's what it takes. There's no way to circumvent that, there's no secret, there's no accelerated program. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Time and hard work, that's it. A good teacher probably helps, but I didn't really go that way. It can be done without one, especially these days. Just expect to develop bad habits and get ready to spend time undoing them if you can. One really bad habit not being undone can limit you forever, I firmly believe that. Some limitations, however, can be a good thing, and ultimately force you to be more creative to compensate for the lack of other technique. So, yeah, that contradicts what I just said before that, didn't it? Shows you what I know.
"How do I choose a teacher?"
Interview them. Seriously. The ones who don't or won't allow you to should likely be discounted right away due to their inevitable douchebaggery (can I coin that phrase, Alex?). And trust me, guitar players -- and teachers -- can be douchey.
Know what you want to accomplish. It doesn't have to be detailed, it can be as simple as, "I want to learn how to strum along with my favorite tunes". No point in getting stuck with a teacher that specializes in traditional jazz technique for something like that.
Oh, and being "really good at Guitar Hero" is not the same thing. At all. Sure, there can be a shared typewriter-esque "Nintendo" component to playing the guitar. Do the world a favor and don't go that way.
So, to sum up: The guitar -- Learn it, Live it, Love it. No shirt, no shoes, no dice. Veni, Vidi, Vici.....or something like that...
Nope.
You know why? I suck at teaching. Yep. I know that about myself now, have for quite some time. Oh sure, I taught for a few years during college, mainly because people kept asking me and offering me money. I mean, c'mon -- money to a college kid is like....gold! Ok, bad metaphor, but you get my drift. Oh, I could play. I just couldn't teach.
However, the old adage of "those who can't, teach!" is absolute crap. I have friends who are great players and great teachers. And they actually like teaching. I didn't, for the most part.
"How did you get good at it???"
Listen very carefully now, because I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Just between you and me and the internet. I practiced. A lot. Alone. For years. Because that's what it takes. There's no way to circumvent that, there's no secret, there's no accelerated program. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Time and hard work, that's it. A good teacher probably helps, but I didn't really go that way. It can be done without one, especially these days. Just expect to develop bad habits and get ready to spend time undoing them if you can. One really bad habit not being undone can limit you forever, I firmly believe that. Some limitations, however, can be a good thing, and ultimately force you to be more creative to compensate for the lack of other technique. So, yeah, that contradicts what I just said before that, didn't it? Shows you what I know.
"How do I choose a teacher?"
Interview them. Seriously. The ones who don't or won't allow you to should likely be discounted right away due to their inevitable douchebaggery (can I coin that phrase, Alex?). And trust me, guitar players -- and teachers -- can be douchey.
Know what you want to accomplish. It doesn't have to be detailed, it can be as simple as, "I want to learn how to strum along with my favorite tunes". No point in getting stuck with a teacher that specializes in traditional jazz technique for something like that.
Oh, and being "really good at Guitar Hero" is not the same thing. At all. Sure, there can be a shared typewriter-esque "Nintendo" component to playing the guitar. Do the world a favor and don't go that way.
So, to sum up: The guitar -- Learn it, Live it, Love it. No shirt, no shoes, no dice. Veni, Vidi, Vici.....or something like that...
The Opening Act
I've titled it "The Opening Act" merely because it's my first entry. Clever (not). I've got no specific plan or direction for this entry, either -- I'm just going for stream-of-conscious things that I've experienced on the road with various professional musicians. It won't apply to everyone, admittedly.
When you're on the road, everyone's personalities tend to get amplified, particularly onstage.
Let's take, for instance, a singer I'll call Mandy. Mandy is a freak of nature, vocally -- an incredible vocalist who wrings every single note from the core of her soul. It's an amazing thing to watch, especially close-up (say from 10 feet behind her at "guitar station"). This girl has likely experienced so much pain in her life, and singing is clearly the outlet for that pain (as it should be, frankly).
Problem is, she can't help projecting some of that pain onto the audience. What do I mean by that? There's something called "contempt for the audience". It's not all that common to you "civilians" as most people like that tend to not be terribly successful as it seriously impedes people wanting to LIKE you -- not just your singing, but YOU the person. Audiences (especially paying audiences) WANT to like you. But, part of that singer hates the audience. There's a barely imperceptible anger directed toward the audience, whose subtlety often gets lost within the crush of stage and PA volume. For those of us who are quite used to that, though, we can recognize it more easily. Maybe there's a part of that singer who feels they deserve more success, or more credit, or more money, and hasn't gotten it. They may think, "Can't you see how great I am?! You're not really getting how great I am, are you? I know you think I'm great, but am I GREAT???". It's probably working on an unconscious level, too. Don't blame them for that, though -- being "an artist" encourages us to act childish, to keep us in a state of arrested development. I love this singer, though, and wish her greater success, because she's truly amazing. Moral of the story: Be nice to the audience, performers! They may leave unsure as to why they didn't like you as much as they thought they would have.
When you're on the road, everyone's personalities tend to get amplified. Just ask the tour/road manager.
On second thought, don't. He'll tell you what a giant pain in the ass I am. Yeah, that's right -- I'm throwing myself under the bus today. Although I sometimes ask for high-end equipment in my rider, I almost never get any of it. I get that -- it costs the production a lot more and is often harder to find. And I don't really care if I get them, honestly. I ask for them because it's always fun to play through amazing "boutique" guitar amps, for instance. Occasionally I get one to play through on stage, but that's rare. There are, however, a few really small, minor items that I don't think are unreasonable, and are certainly inexpensive for a tour/production budget. Guitar stands. Decent ones. They're really not expensive, at all. A large wooden box or road case to put whatever rented amp I get onto, so that it's right at ear level and I can hear myself on stage. I get push-back from stage managers on this, quite often. Until I tell them, "Listen, if you give me the box, I can have the amp right behind my head and I can keep my stage volume low!" -- oh, they love that. That wins every time. And it's true! I can keep my stage volume way down that way, (particularly since we guitarists are known for being ReAlLy LoUd On StAgE!!!). Until that argument is made, though, you'd be surprised how hard it is to get that box. Sheesh.
When you're on the road, everyone's personalities tend to get amplified. Just ask the tour/road manager.
I'll tell you another thing that happens on the road, although not to everyone (but it does to me). You forget what day it is, and you forget where you are. You've no doubt heard the stories about singers taping a note to the back of their guitar so they can say, "How ya doin' tonite, [insert name of town/city/state/country here]?!?!?"
I'm not at all big-time like that (on the "success" ladder), and it happens to me. I do need serious hand-holding from the tour/road manager for stupid stuff like that. And when I need to get on the bus. And when breakfast is.
When you're on the road, everyone's personalities tend to get amplified, particularly onstage.
Let's take, for instance, a singer I'll call Mandy. Mandy is a freak of nature, vocally -- an incredible vocalist who wrings every single note from the core of her soul. It's an amazing thing to watch, especially close-up (say from 10 feet behind her at "guitar station"). This girl has likely experienced so much pain in her life, and singing is clearly the outlet for that pain (as it should be, frankly).
Problem is, she can't help projecting some of that pain onto the audience. What do I mean by that? There's something called "contempt for the audience". It's not all that common to you "civilians" as most people like that tend to not be terribly successful as it seriously impedes people wanting to LIKE you -- not just your singing, but YOU the person. Audiences (especially paying audiences) WANT to like you. But, part of that singer hates the audience. There's a barely imperceptible anger directed toward the audience, whose subtlety often gets lost within the crush of stage and PA volume. For those of us who are quite used to that, though, we can recognize it more easily. Maybe there's a part of that singer who feels they deserve more success, or more credit, or more money, and hasn't gotten it. They may think, "Can't you see how great I am?! You're not really getting how great I am, are you? I know you think I'm great, but am I GREAT???". It's probably working on an unconscious level, too. Don't blame them for that, though -- being "an artist" encourages us to act childish, to keep us in a state of arrested development. I love this singer, though, and wish her greater success, because she's truly amazing. Moral of the story: Be nice to the audience, performers! They may leave unsure as to why they didn't like you as much as they thought they would have.
When you're on the road, everyone's personalities tend to get amplified. Just ask the tour/road manager.
On second thought, don't. He'll tell you what a giant pain in the ass I am. Yeah, that's right -- I'm throwing myself under the bus today. Although I sometimes ask for high-end equipment in my rider, I almost never get any of it. I get that -- it costs the production a lot more and is often harder to find. And I don't really care if I get them, honestly. I ask for them because it's always fun to play through amazing "boutique" guitar amps, for instance. Occasionally I get one to play through on stage, but that's rare. There are, however, a few really small, minor items that I don't think are unreasonable, and are certainly inexpensive for a tour/production budget. Guitar stands. Decent ones. They're really not expensive, at all. A large wooden box or road case to put whatever rented amp I get onto, so that it's right at ear level and I can hear myself on stage. I get push-back from stage managers on this, quite often. Until I tell them, "Listen, if you give me the box, I can have the amp right behind my head and I can keep my stage volume low!" -- oh, they love that. That wins every time. And it's true! I can keep my stage volume way down that way, (particularly since we guitarists are known for being ReAlLy LoUd On StAgE!!!). Until that argument is made, though, you'd be surprised how hard it is to get that box. Sheesh.
When you're on the road, everyone's personalities tend to get amplified. Just ask the tour/road manager.
I'll tell you another thing that happens on the road, although not to everyone (but it does to me). You forget what day it is, and you forget where you are. You've no doubt heard the stories about singers taping a note to the back of their guitar so they can say, "How ya doin' tonite, [insert name of town/city/state/country here]?!?!?"
I'm not at all big-time like that (on the "success" ladder), and it happens to me. I do need serious hand-holding from the tour/road manager for stupid stuff like that. And when I need to get on the bus. And when breakfast is.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)