The School of Feedback Guitar Blog

For the entire month of August I will be giving a rest to blogging on the School of Feedback Guitar blog. It's a good time for a media blackout as far as I can see. I need a short rest. Of course, Song Monday will be releasing more songs every single Monday morning. The releases? They are all songs from the album "My Friends" by Song of the Gun. Check it out!

Stay out of the heat, go swimming, and see you in September, 2010.

Flow. I like to describe it as the feeling I get when time disappears. When I am not focused on anything except playing music and I am so drawn into it that someone new could walk into the room and I wouldn't know it, I am in the flow state. In my opinion, everyone who picks up the guitar has different reasons to, but flow is possible regardless. Flow, to me, is the reason everyone slowly gets pulled into playing, and all the better.

The following is a comparison between two types of guitar styles, namely classical guitar and pop guitar, and how long and dedicated a person must be to get into that flow state with either.

Pop Guitar

Usually, all it takes for a person to learn pop guitar from scratch is to learn chords comfortably, learn to strum, and learn how to change chords within a strumming pattern. Then comes the songs and learning how to play along and listen. That's about it. Getting to the point where time can absolutely disappear isn't really that difficult or far off. It's merely being comfortable enough with the instrument and those three skills. This is not very hard to do. I would guess that it can take anywhere from about one to six months of work.

Classical Guitar

It takes a minimum of at least two years of study with classical guitar to get to a flow state. A minimum, and it's not guaranteed! The skills? Well, learning the Andres Segovia or the Aaron Shear scales, finishing up the 120 exercises for the right hand by Giuliani, practicing Scott Tennant's Pumping Nylon, learning a lot of etudes by Sor, Carcassi, and listening. Then come the actual pieces. Choros or Preludes by Villa Lobos, Julia Florida by Barrios, or Capriccio Arabe by Tarrega.

So what are the implications?

First, classical guitar is not just something we can up and decide to do. Most people who do want to learn classical guitar already have a love of that music. Second, if anyone wants to teach classical guitar and wants to teach only classical guitar, they will have an uphill battle. Look at the hoops a person has to jump through! Instead, why not learn how to teach pop guitar and gradually introduce the student to the wonders of classical guitar? Third, flow state, the place we go when we are on stage or playing with friends, having a blast, etc, is the only reason we play. Flow is important, and it takes far less time playing pop guitar to achieve this state than it does classical guitar.

Finally, which sounds most fun? Perhaps there is an iconoclast out there who is working to soften the educational tradition of classical guitar so that flow is easier to achieve, faster? I hope to meet you if you are reading.

Before reading this blog post, remember that it is not unusual to gravitate to one of these motivations a bit more than any others. This is not "black and white" so-to-speak. We all want to learn, have fun, feel creative, and connect with others. However, each of us has a bit more compelling of a reason to do it. The following is a summary of four of the most common motivations all of us, including me, have when we pick up the guitar and decide to learn it.

Fun and Enjoyment.

Enjoyment? That's probably the number one reason why people play it and want to learn it. If it looks fun and enjoyable, then why not?

Connection.

Connection. There are people out there who feel that the most important reason to play guitar is to connect with others. I am reminded of a colleague in grad school. Her mother always held her as a baby and played guitar at the same time. The result is that she formed a sort of association of connection with the instrument. For her, seeing a guitarist live meant she could feel that connection. Getting together and playing music with other people is a fantastic way to just hang out too. Musicians love to hang.

Creativity.

There are people out there who look to guitar as an avenue to create. The tell-tale signs? Time passing by and enjoyment of finding and exploring the capabilities of the guitar. Pushing the sound. Recording musical thoughts. The person who is obsessed with creating music just wants to find the ways that work for them with guitar, and educational tradition is playfully tossed out in the pursuit.

Intellectual Stimulation.

There are many people out there who love to learn. However, there are people who like to know the nuts and bolts of music and want to know what it's all about to a large extent. Learning guitar, for these people, is often guided with an intense curiosity with regards to music theory and/or scales. For these people, guitar is a lovely way to grow and expand their thinking abilities, and look cool at the same time when they play... of course!

Guitar is fun. I want to make sure that this message comes loud and clear to everyone who reads this blog.

There are thousands of guitar teachers who unwittingly set obstacles in the way of students who just wants to learn and enjoy the guitar. Sure, some students really respond well to learning from these obstacles, but every single one? I doubt it. If a student hates the idea of learning music theory, chances are they could have a different idea of what they want to do with guitar than the teacher think is possible (like, as a chance to be creative). If a student really has no interest in learning scales, chances are that a teacher who forces the issue will lose them eventually.

I really like to go on rants about music theory and scales. I know both inside and out, and yet I don't teach them to everyone. To me, they are the most mis-used pedagogical concepts in music education. No one seems to be questioning why they are good, but it seems like too many people are blindly saying that "every student must learn music theory regardless of their interest in it." 

This is wrong, and you have a right to question it if your teacher is making you learn it.

To the people who are playing guitar and are being told that they must learn something they don't want to, I hope you feel free enough to question your teacher's authority. If they are worth their salt, they will explain why it's important and in a kind way. They won't get flustered, and they will appreciate your view, immensely. What if the teacher gets angry? What if he or she takes offence to you asking questions? Avoid them. They are not worth your time. They are providing barriers to enjoyment of guitar, not making it more possible and within your reach.

In order for guitar to be fun, you need to find others who think of guitar as an incredibly fun way to pass the time. This goes for both teachers and people we meet to jam with. We all have different reasons to play, but if it's not fun, why do it?

I just had a marvelous opportunity to share my music with a very close friend. It was a blast. It felt like it was received with warmth, and playing it for her made us feel like we connected on such a nice level, a human level. It got me thinking: Just exactly how related are creativity and connection?

For quite some time now, I've come to understand that creative pursuits and ambitions need a certain amount of isolation and time to develop. Perhaps it is best to wait and see if a song is worth playing for others. Perhaps it's best to wait until your heart feels completely settled within a painting before showing it to anyone. Perhaps your short story isn't truly done until you know that anyone else's well-meaning but ultimately distracting editorial comments have no effect on you. Perhaps the iphone application isn't done until you have bug-tested it mercilessly, and and optimized it for usability. If you like this argument, then the next logical question is: When does this self-imposed creative isolation stop? When does the sharing begin?

Sharing, to me, is connection. If I share a song with others, it means I want to connect to them and say "Hi- this is me, and thanks for hearing me talk about something important to me. By the way, thanks for not making fun of my goosebumps and shivers because I am feeling quite a bit naked right now. Is there a draft in here? Do you have an extra pair of underpants I can borrow?"

Connection is hardest for the artistic introverts out there who consider what they create to be the highest expression of themselves. If we create something, ultimately we might want to share it so we can connect with others. It doesn't have to be en-masse. It can be a friend we want to connect with, a lover we want to get closer to, or an entire audience of people we just want to bare our souls to. If you are stuck on when to release your own creative output, then maybe you should ponder this question: Who do you most want to connect with?

Zooid (Henry Threadgill) // this brings us to... vol 1

Songs of Green Pheasant // Gyllyng Street

The Music Tapes // Music Tapes for Clouds and Tornadoes

Johnny Smith // Moonlight in Vermont

Spoon // Kill The Moonlight

Son House // Original Delta Blues

Robert Johnson // The Complete Recordings

 

There's a great line in a Destroyer song: "Formative years wasted / In love with our peers, we tasted / life with the stars." I couldn't have found language that was more clear about the whole idea of what we were doing. The twenty people who understand what you're talking about are the twenty most important people in the world. Maybe that's the difference between professional culture and outsider culture. Our antennae were tuned very specifically for like minds, as opposed to sending out a signal to convert people. There are some kinds of art that are trying to find their peers, and there are other kinds that are trying to make peers.1

This quote is from the insanely readable book, Our Noise, the Story of Merge Records. 

Jenny Toomey is the author of the quote, and she raises a fantastic argument. I wish more Austin, Texas based musicians would think deeper about the implications: What are you trying to do with your music? Are you trying to connect with other people, or are you looking to be famous?

1. Cook, McCaughan & Ballance, Our Noise, the Story of Merge Records, 15.

Possibly the coolest thing about blogging is that it's an opportunity to keep working on problems and seeing to their solutions.

"How do you learn a song and still love it just as much when you get done learning it?"

I'm still a little speechless. In the previous posts, I was exploring the philosophical sides of this question. However, there are some logical answers that I think might help someone out if they are having trouble with this question.

First, learning only the guitar part means that one learns only one aspect of the song. In lessons, I love rationalizing why I have the music turned down low while we're playing. Of course it's good to be nice to neighbors, but it's even better to force ourselves to really pay attention to the song. I like to help people even forget that they are playing guitar and encourage them to remember they are playing music. Same deal with the learning the guitar part in a song. If we learn it, we can pay more attention to the rest of the song.

Second, if you plan on learning a song, be prepared to let it go. I learned a difficult jazz solo one year in college, and I felt that I got it, but I also felt that all the mystery of the solo was drained. I still can't listen to that song, and it's too bad. It's a good one. The moral of the story is that if there is mystery and you don't want to lose it, try not to be tempted. In addition, why couldn't you save songs and decide to never learn them? I know this might sound odd, but it's an idea. There is a song that I absolutely love, but the truth is that I have never ever learned it. Why? Because it still is beautiful. Why would I want to spoil it?

Perhaps this still comes down to a major philosophical question that musicians must contend with. Which is more important: The Mystery or the Mastery? For me, mystery is far more important. I never want to lose my love of playing music.