The School of Feedback Guitar Blog

According to Dr. David Krueger, author of "The Secret Language of Money," the mind doesn't distinguish between mental and physical images. Dr. Krueger's point is based on recent Positron-Emission Tomography research, and has many implications not just related to money. In The Secret Language of Money, he states:

Visualization crystallizes possibility into an articulated idea--the experience changes the brain. A vision serves as a guide and inspiration to design ways to realize it--to live into it.

When you program your system with a visualized goal, you create structural tension in your brain--cognitive dissonance--the difference between where you are and where you visualize and affirm. Your brain then strives to resolve this tension by actualizing this goal, in several ways: by bringing your creative ideas toward that end; by helping you to see potential resources in your environment that you had not previously noticed; and by providing you with heightened motivation to take action on those perceptions. 1

What is interesting to me as a guitar teacher is that confidence builds as a person gets more and more fascinated with guitar. It's almost as if a beginner starts to see themselves as a different person, forging a new vision in their head about what they play, what music they do, etc. As they realize that they do have a unique outlook on guitar, that it is fun and enjoyable, they start to view themselves in a different light. They start to see themselves as a guitarist. My hunch is that taking guitar lessons is just as much about learning to play guitar as it is about following up upon that vision.

Very recently, I have started to see changes in my own vision as a guitarist. For as long as I have been playing, I've found rhythm to be far more interesting to play. To be truthful, lead guitar has been a total bore. I've associated lead guitar with the guy who turns up really loudly in any guitar shop, zones out, and plays fast licks for everyone to see. Yeah, annoying. Now, I feel like I have a better vision for playing lead guitar, and it is creating dissonance! I don't see myself playing lead guitar in Guitar Center, but as a lead guitarist in a band. So what follows a vision? Commitment. I'm starting to get more interested in the idea, and I am practicing it a lot more. 

The question is a fascinating one: Which guitarist are you? If you have a vision for what kind of guitarist you can be, there is a good chance that the brain is already forging a new pathway to learn how to make it a reality. Also, two thumbs way up for Dr. Krueger: You wrote a fantastic book on a subject that isn't approached well by many authors.

1. Krueger, The Secret Language of Money, 231.

There is a cliche in the music education world. It's usually said this way: "(name of guitar teacher) can play, but he/she can't teach!" Sometimes we even, unneccesarily, poke fun of music teachers by saying, "(name of guitar teacher) is not a performer; He/She is a teacher, obviously." At the center of these statements lies a crucial ambivalence facing the work of any guitar teacher:

Guitar teachers are paid to teach, and performers are paid to escape.

The best performers are the people who "have it." These are the ones who make a show so fun and enjoyable, so great and awesome, that we can't help but forget all of our problems and cheer them on. We as the audience want to see the performer escape so that we can escape with them. It's like seeing a show and thinking at the end of it, "I wish they would play another song!" Performers inherently know this; The stage is where time doesn't exist. Performers are often as irresponsible, impulsive, and immature as one will see. Drugs? Alcohol? Addiction? Stupid behavior? You name it. When one is paid to escape, when one is cheered on to take the audience to another level and help them forget about their problems, you can bet that it translates to many other areas of their life. To performers, responsibility might often seem like a drag. It seems far more exciting to trash a hotel room. For them it's more fun to just be out of control, like how it is on stage.

Many would-be performers are initially drawn to teaching at first. Why not? So many people are looking to play music that it seems like a logical stepping stone to being a rock star. The operative words are "stepping-stone." Are they there to teach, or are they seeking an audience? If I were looking for a guitar teacher, they would need to convince me that I was the center of their attention, and that they are going to do their best to create a space for me to learn. They would need to convince me that they are there for me. I will not say that all performers are like this, but many are unable to teach because, again, responsibility is a drag.

Guitar teachers are paid to teach, and teaching requires developing responsibility. If you want to perform for a living and teach too, the real trick is how to balance the both of them.

We are all well aware that nobody is perfect. If this is the case, why would anyone in their right mind expect that performers are? Performers are performers for one reason: They learned not to broadcast their mistakes with flinching. Flinching, to me, is the physical response to a mistake. Thus comes one of my favorite things to teach: How to perform without flinching.

In performance, flinching is the enemy because it lets the people watching know that a mistake has happened in the first place. There's nothing so jarring than hearing a performer cry out in embarassment over some silly mistakes. The funny thing is that to most people, mistakes don't even matter so much. Miles Davis was fond of saying, "Do not fear mistakes; There are none." In a previous post, I talked about how Yo-Yo Ma had learned let go of trying to be perfect so he could have the passion in his performances, as well as mistakes. Learning how not to flinch is the key.

Here are a couple of ways to learn not to flinch:

• Ask a friend or spouse to throw paperclips at you. The less you flinch, the better.
• Have a trusted and loving friend hurl small insults at you, and then have them buy you lunch afterwards.
• Play guitar in a loud place where distractions are the norm.

Once again, mistakes are inevitable. It's only the reaction that counts. Getting used to distractions, internal or external, is the way to really perform music and enjoy it too.

The concert for Bangladesh was in 1971. George Harrison played for 40,000 people when he was 28 years old. How did he do it? He just got used to it and rolled with it. The rest was luck and timing.

A collegue once told me that there are three levels of performance pressure. When you are playing music by yourself, when you are playing for a teacher (if you have one), and when you are playing for others. I think this is spot on. Each of them gets progressively more fun and/or difficult.

Playing music by yourself is stress free. There are only the walls that hear one's mistakes. Often, many people will say "Oh, if only I could sound like I did when I was practicing this song, then I would be great!" Indeed, mistakes are a bit more painful once the pressure is upped a bit. This often happens when we go to play for our teachers.

When we play for our teachers, (George Harrison had only one teacher: Ravi Shankar), the pressure is on. Of course they want to see you do well, although they may have different ideas of how to inspire you. Some teachers will encourage you to no end to keep at it, while other teachers will try to get you to give up while latently inspiring you! I've personally tried to avoid the latter; Mistakes are so much harder to handle around them. Even more stress-inducing is playing for friends.

Hugh MacLeod is fond of saying that good ideas change power dynamics in relationships, and I think he is absolutely right. A person who gets up and performs in front of an audience will likely be playing for a bunch of friends, and that is scary because the performer now has the attention of everyone. Performing when one's friends are in the audience changes perceptions that people have of them. This still gives me the willies to this day! Even though this is stressful it's fertile ground for accepting that mistakes will be made, like Yo-Yo Ma learned how to do.

Yo-Yo Ma once stated that he had strived for absolute perfection in his performances, that is until he received it of course. In addition to a note-perfect performance of classical cello pieces he also got the least inspired performance he can remember. He didn't like it because it felt like the energy was drained just for the pursuit of perfection. After that, he accepted mistakes along with a passionate performance. Doing that meant he didn't have to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Do you think George Harrison learned to do the same? You bet. He learned how to do this with The Beatles when they were playing the clubs of Hamburg, Germany. He learned how to do this on tour. He also did this for the Concert for Bangladesh in 1971, when he was a mere 28 years old.

There are ways of accepting the pressures as they come when one is performing, and loving it. George Harrison learned to accept and love that nervousness as part of the package of performing. Accepting mistakes along with the passion is the way to go; That's the key to performing like George Harrison.

Dealing with jerks can be infuriating, especially when you commit to playing music with them. It can be a huge drag sometimes when one person is extremely negative. It's as if they aren't happy playing music unless everyone around them is unhappy, or at least on their level. We all want to have people around us who share our values, so the cliche "Misery loves company" is cliche for a reason. Sometimes, personality conflicts can sour the entire experience of playing music with others.

It's not worth the time and energy. It's not worth it to spend time afterwords thinking about how much someone sucks as a human being. Nobody wants a boss who acts like a child. Nobody wants a friend who won't listen to them. Why should it be any different when playing music with others? Sometimes, even though some people don't know any better, they'll ruin the entire experience of playing music.

"Why does that turd have to be such a turd?!?"

Music is supposed to be fun. If the previous question is asked, it might be more fun to play with someone else.

I remember reading a quote about six years ago from a major label executive:

"Did you know that vanilla is the most popular ice cream flavor? It sells more than any other variety. What I do as a major label rep is find the very best vanilla."

I hope you don't feel the same way. I consider vanilla to be pretty boring.

What's the alternative? Well, maybe first admitting that being different is scary. Maybe also admitting that being different may also bring the most rewards eventually. Nobody can say so for sure, but nobody will say that being different is boring.

There was this one Milonga I went to where I saw people dancing to the Scorpions. I never thought I'd be the one to say it, but there is something a bit weird about dancing to "Hurricane." This doesn't mean that we ought to stay away from seeing how tango fits or translates to other music.

That said, my jaw dropped last Saturday night when dance partners Carlos Cañedo and Anais Haven danced to a waltzy Black Heart Procession song. Wow! Really? Seriously? I couldn't believe that Tango dancers even knew about that band!

Carlos and Anais danced the hell out of that song. In addition, it's really refreshing to me when Tango dancers are nice, down-to-earth, and approachable. I feel like I would make a fool out of myself if I went up and talked to dancers as good as they are (maybe because I enjoy dancing and am not terribly good at it). However, I gathered up my nerve, and went up to them later on to pester them about their song choices. They were quite awesome about it. I'm going to take a private tango lesson with them the next time they come to Austin.

Here is a YouTube video of them dancing to a freaking Fugazi song. That's right: FUGAZI. Carlos and Anais, I have a request: Can you dance to Radiohead's "Morning Bell," the version off of Amnesiac? I'll take whatever I can get though. Carlos Cañedo's tango website address is at the bottom of this post.

http://www.thetangocompany.com