Playing less, and choosing only the notes that matter

[harmonizer]

To the OP: you have come to the point where you feel the need to play fewer notes.

You sound like you are frustrated with yourself, but you can use this as an opportunity to play differently than you have before.

There is nothing more sublime than hearing someone who is clearly capable of playing lots of notes play fewer (some of Diana Krall's work on ballads comes to mind).

Maybe you are in an excellent position to execute on this.

[Reezekeys]

My .02, fwiw. When I listen back to myself it's usually painful. "Jazz guy" talking here so this may or may not apply to anyone else. I try to zero in on one or two things that annoy me the most, then consciously work on not doing that. At first this was counterintuitive, since improvising is supposed to be spontaneous. Often times I was hearing myself playing too many notes, so I started consciously leaving spaces in my improvisations. That's it - just stop playing for a second or two! What happened for me was this: when I heard myself playing differently, I also began to get a feel for how starting and stopping a phrase adds or detracts from what I was putting into the music. My brain adjusted and soon I was doing this unconsciously and spontaneously. Of course, one's note choices matter as much as one's decision as to when to play them - that's another thing to work on, but you have to start somewhere!

[Steve Nathan]

1. In the Knoffler video, Matt is playing the Roland Digital he has been touring with for several years. He endorses Roland. I'm sure someone here knows the model.

 

2. re: the original post. Very few of us (including me for sure) have the art and skills to compare ourselves to Matt. It's like a young painter trying to measure up to Michelangelo or Picasso. What matters is how do you compare to yourself. Can you get better? Are you improving?

 

3. re: "Less is more". Yes sometimes less is more, but often less is just less. You're talking about "Taste", Art vs. Technique. Matt learned plenty that we all can learn, but he was also born with an inmate sense of beauty that many of us were not. Matt is a hundred times the player I am, and yet we've worked side by side in the same arena for decades. That is a testament to my having some innate sense of what's the Right thing to play in most situations. No one would equate Tatum or Oscar Peterson with Ray Charles, Donny Hathaway or Sly Stone, on technical prowess, but who would deny that they all were giants in music.

[AnotherScott]

If less were always more, than John Cage's 4'33" would be perfection.

[The Real MC]

If less were always more, than John Cage's 4'33" would be perfection.

 

Ah yes. Took me years to master that.

[Tom Williams]

If less were always more, than John Cage's 4'33" would be perfection.

Ah yes. Took me years to master that.

Many consider it to be Cage's best work.

[GovernorSilver]

I like Imaginary Landscape 1 by Cage. Probably because of the work we put in to come up with an arrangement for ourselves, and prepare to play it live.

[Reezekeys]

If less were always more, than John Cage's 4'33" would be perfection.

Ah yes. Took me years to master that.

Many consider it to be Cage's best work.

It's the only classical piece I still have memorized. Also, I'm always confident I can perform it well (as long as I have a stopwatch handy).

[Moonglow]

Timwat,

 

Thanks for sharing and again starting a thread from which we can all benefit.

 

I think it will be difficult for you to not critically evaluate your performance. I suspect you do this in other areas of your life as well, and it has made you the successful and competent person you have become. My general advice is to not mess with this mojo. However, I think you can get on top of the idea that if this leads to not doing something you love, that it might be beneficial to perhaps try starting from a different place. Right now your cognitions appear to be surrounded by thoughts of overplaying, noodling, etc. Try playing a song you enjoy and focus on the expressions you like, no matter how small, and build from there. This way, you are not focusing on reducing what you play (that will happen by itself), but instead building from a good place.

[jerrythek]

This concept of making conscious decisions to change your playing/vocabulary is interesting, Years ago I did an interview with Jim Beard in Keyboard (remember that mag?). He talked about his teaching approach and recommended that students record themselves and listen back and make those evaluations and conscious decisions, If you don"t like something you played make the choice not to do that any more. It seems so obvious but it"s not easy.

 

I think a big part of it comes from the mechanical aspect of playing: you have things that fall under the fingers really well, you have licks that you"ve so incorporated into tunes, and when you"re not quite 'in the moment' these things come out because you feel the need to do 'something'. So it take some conscious effort to evaluate your playing and make these decisions to remove those things from your vocabulary. No doubt it"s a very hard thing to do, and it takes time and consistent effort. I"m in the same boat, but not so deeply bothered by it. Yet. When I listen back to myself I often have those same thoughts⦠I wish I didn"t play that same sh** that I always do. Gotta put in some serious developmental time at the instrument to change that. Hopefully you"ll find the time to do that as well. It"s more important than working on technique and other things at this stage of your development, I think.

 

Jerry

 

 

My .02, fwiw. When I listen back to myself it's usually painful. "Jazz guy" talking here so this may or may not apply to anyone else. I try to zero in on one or two things that annoy me the most, then consciously work on not doing that. At first this was counterintuitive, since improvising is supposed to be spontaneous. Often times I was hearing myself playing too many notes, so I started consciously leaving spaces in my improvisations. That's it - just stop playing for a second or two! What happened for me was this: when I heard myself playing differently, I also began to get a feel for how starting and stopping a phrase adds or detracts from what I was putting into the music. My brain adjusted and soon I was doing this unconsciously and spontaneously. Of course, one's note choices matter as much as one's decision as to when to play them - that's another thing to work on, but you have to start somewhere!

[KuruPrionz]

I will mention that I spent a fair amount of time learning to play my "reflexive" riffs backwards, adding notes to scales (flatted fifth, major 7th) and (guitarist) learning the "blue notes" - let's just say there are reasons why slide guitar is a thing in the blues. The minor 3rd and minor 7th are not set in stone by the European tempered scale and deviate considerably in both directions depending on your inflections.

 

Keyboards undoubtedly have different parameters that will need learned. Once you learn a scale or chord shape on the guitar, it remains consistent up and down the fretboard, you can move what you played in C up one fret, play the same thing and it is now in C#. Keyboards are laid out differently and you need to learn more patterns and shapes to be effective.

[o0Ampy0o]

1. In the Knoffler video, Matt is playing the Roland Digital he has been touring with for several years. He endorses Roland. I'm sure someone here knows the model.

 

Whatever he is playing it is hidden in a Yamaha grand piano body. I can imagine a scenario where Matt would need to compromise if say Emmylou Harris and/or Mark Knopfler had to be seen exclusively with Yamaha pianos. I screen captured a bunch of shots from the video which show the most of that keyboard. I adjusted the images to bring out the details in the shadows. The style and layout of controls, display and mod / pitch bend wheels of the keyboard match a Motif. I went through the Roland history. I could not find any Roland that came close. I am curious which Roland keyboard Matt tours with. On the Roland website it lists a V-Piano Grand and RD-800. He is not playing either of those in the video. It is possible he did not have his own rig for this gig.

[bennyray]

IMO I play what I feel whether less or more I don't give a shit what someone thinks been doing this a long time and if it comes from the heart u have nothing to worry about. Just be yourself and everything

 

will work out.

[Adan]

Serious question: doesn't every artist sometimes hate their work? Maybe "hate" is too strong a word. But it seems axiomatic that if you were satisfied with your playing, you would never get better. That sort of cyclical self-loathing can be fuel for the artistic process.

 

I accept that I'm going to regularly cycle between thinking I'm pretty good to thinking I'm a musical waste of space. It helps to remember that even on my worst nights performing, people were still entertained. Remembering that helps me not sink in a quicksand of subjectivism.

[GovernorSilver]

The aforementioned Allan Holdsworth was notorious for self-criticism and apologizing to the audience for his playing.

 

Just started reading this Lyle Mays interview. The beginning part at least is revealing as far as how nervous he felt as a young pianist getting his feet wet. He replaced his own solo on "What Was" in Lab 75 because it was "substandard".

 

https://www.lylemays.com/something-left-unsaid

[bennyray]

Dave you have a way of saying all the right things except sometime you gotta grand stand and be a showman only when you just feel the time is right.

 

You are so inspirational and your knowledge of music is something I really appreciate,

[Reezekeys]

I think a big part of it comes from the mechanical aspect of playing: you have things that fall under the fingers really well, you have licks that you"ve so incorporated into tunes, and when you"re not quite 'in the moment' these things come out because you feel the need to do 'something'. So it take some conscious effort to evaluate your playing and make these decisions to remove those things from your vocabulary.

Definitely. I guess that hearing myself playing licks is what initially got me to work on leaving spaces and consciously interrupting my 'flow' so I would avoid them. Soon it became less of a conscious thing. One thing I feel helped me was getting a hold of a Jamey Aebersold playalong project featuring Adam Nussbaum and Jay Anderson. I ripped those files and put them into my Plogue Bidule setup where I can trigger different tracks from my keyboard. I"ve never used playalong records in my life but these guys" tracks work for me. With all my pandemic practicing I like to think I"m seeing some progress in my playing, though it may be minuscule and in my imagination! I really do believe that forcing oneself to do things a little differently, even if uncomfortable at first, can be a good thing.

[Stokely]

I'm definitely guilty of overplaying, as is the rest of the band. It didn't become obvious until hearing some live recordings. Which is a fantastic reason to record the band live!

 

I think your monitor mix being great helps a lot with this...if you aren't hearing the guitarist for example (or vice versa) then each of you feels a need to fill up that "emptiness". Assuming you have players that actually value listening to and playing off bandmates, of course.

[MathOfInsects]

I have some thoughts about this.

 

The first is that, of course, what makes very good players very good, is the constant sense that we are not yet where we want to be. We hear what we need to work on "next," and because the Sea of Next is infinite, what starts as something admirably disciplined and task-based can slowly morph into something that corruptly seems to describe our endless failings. We start out in a finite way--"I need to work on independence of my fourth and fifth fingers." That personality trait is an asset. But we end up in a sort of wall-less hell of infinite unworthiness, and I think that's a trap. There is ALWAYS something or someone ahead of us. It's constructive sometimes to remind ourselves of how much of what we do well, is better than how we used to do it.

 

The second is sort of related to the first, and that is this: We "deep listeners" tend to gravitate to magic. That is, we love in other players what seems somehow sent from the Gods or is otherwise beyond our immediate conception. Even if we "understand" what is going on in those moments, we may not understand how the player managed to deploy it in real time, or in the manner that they did. Those players might represent an aspiration for us. BUT...by definition, they are using elements whose mechanism is hidden from us, at least for now. When we hear our own playing, we are only hearing familiar mechanisms. We are waiting for magic, or at least delight, but we know how all the tricks are performed. This can be incredibly demoralizing. The "fix" there is again, to remember how much magic we might be deploying through others' eyes, or even compared to previous versions of us as players. It's not easy, and it's inconsistent with the artists' temperament, but it's the only way to get past that revulsion we all have when we hear ourselves play. Our own mechanisms are just too familiar to us, for our own playing to delight us.

 

And finally: as someone whose teaching studio skews heavily toward adults and often colleagues, I want to confirm that we all carry around a completely abusive bastard inside our brains, whose job is to remind us over and over again that we are incompetent frauds who are wasting everyone's time with the foolish delusion that we can play a single note that means anything. That tendency to see ourselves as kids in a room full of adults is universal among my adult learners. It's always "someone's" voice--mom, dad, sister, teacher--but by adulthood it's completely "ours." But here's the thing. Remember how I said that's the voice's job? The trick here is to remember that it is the voice's ONLY job. It's a one-trick pony. It's the old guys on the Muppet Show who heckle no matter how good or bad the skit is. Knowing that is incredibly important, because once you know it is going to say that shitty stuff no matter what you are playing, you can begin to find equanimity with it and maybe even value it. That's the real trick--not to "get past" it, or silence it, or change it, but to recognize that it comes along as part of you and has only one setting: "ON." Expecting not to hear it is magical thinking, and recipe for disaster. The real solution is not only to expect it, but to accept it, be grateful for it when it's right, ignore it when it's wrong, and just take it as one of a sea of sounds around us, instead of some kind of dark truth. It is a bot. It has one setting. Learning to pat it on the head and say "bless your heart, shitty voice," instead of letting it throw tacks into your bike tires, is IMO the primary skill of successful performers, across all fields. It will NEVER go away. It's baked in, and hoping to not have it or notice it is self-defeatingly unrealistic. The trick is to find equanimity with it, and maybe even power from it. It takes a LOT of self-awareness to do this, but it's the difference between career-sabotaging insecurity, and career-defining accomplishment.

[MAJUSCULE]

"Let the melody be your guide"

[GovernorSilver]

Saw this posted elsewhere - seemed apropos.

 

Dunno who Ron Miller is...

 

https://www.ronjam.net/freeStuff/PracticePrayer.pdf

[KuruPrionz]

It didn't become obvious until hearing some live recordings. Which is a fantastic reason to record the band live!

 

I'm in a band, all of us are trusted friends and (like all humans) we all have our shortcomings. We had a steady gig for a while at a club with a better than average PA system and the BL was familiar with the PA and a very good soundman. I started recording the band because I knew that things were not right. I also knew what those things were but it's pretty tough when you are all rolling about in the cess to point as somebody else and say "You got some poop on you." I started burning CDs of the performances and handing them out the next week. I never made any comments, just "Here's our performance from last week."

 

That REALLY helped me to improve. As the only soloist in the band for the most part (we do have the obligatory bass and drum solos once per performance), I am very conscious of overplaying but one of the reasons I am conscious of it is because I DO it. I'm in a different space now than I was back then, I don't have the urge to overindulge in bombast. I like sneaking up on the top of the mountain much better than trying run all the way up.

 

EVERYBODY improved, little by little. Most importantly, the bass and drums found each other and locked. Recently I was sitting out for a gig, on the sidelines while a friend filled in. I noticed that the drummer, who is Dutch and was raised there, now lifts his snare drum arm up, pointing towards the ceiling and drops it back down. He didn't used to do that. That extra bit of time it takes to swing it from above is just enough to give him a back beat. Between that and some hard work on his kick, the bass and drums are tight now.

 

I don't know how much of an influence the performance CDs were but I am certain they were not ignored. I didn't ruffle any feathers, we worked together as a team and we all wanted the same thing.

 

Recordings do not lie and they do not have egos. Magic.

[KuruPrionz]

And finally: as someone whose teaching studio skews heavily toward adults and often colleagues, I want to confirm that we all carry around a completely abusive bastard inside our brains, whose job is remind us over and over again that we are incompetent frauds who are wasting everyone's time with the foolish delusion that we can play a single note that means anything.

 

Great post!!!! I've had my demons. I was an autistic child and I've learned to channel the non-verbal state of creativity. The "bastard" is a verbal demon, puts thoughts in one's head in the language of choice, spoken word.

 

I can get to a place where there are no words in my mind and the bastard is silenced. There is just the joy of creating music. I'm not saying it was easy and I was predisposed to it, autistic and left handed, living in a dream world.

 

There is an interesting book by Betty Edwards - Drawing On The Right Side of The Brain. Some of the science she quotes is now disputed by newer test results but she was legendary for teaching ordinary people who could not draw how to shut off the verbal side and without the bastard nagging them, they could draw at a pretty high level in a short period of time.

 

One could try those same exercises, a pencil and pad of paper is inexpensive, and learn how that works. I recommend it, it is a useful life skill in many aspects.

[Al Quinn]

Yeah, recording performances is so helpful for self-assessment and improvement. More than anything it helps me weed my garden and make space for something nice to grow. I hear myself play some things that are just not what I want to say. No one"s gonna believe me if I"m saying stuff I don"t want to say. So gotta do some honest self-policing and stop stuff like that as soon as possible.

[jerrythek]

Ron was an instructor/professor at the University Of Miami jazz department for many years, now retired. A great composer and educator...

 

Jerry

 

Saw this posted elsewhere - seemed apropos.

 

Dunno who Ron Miller is...

 

https://www.ronjam.net/freeStuff/PracticePrayer.pdf

[jerrythek]

MOI:

 

I really appreciate your posts on the forums, and this is another great one. You really communicate well, mostly intelligently, and sometimes with a sense of snark and/or absurdity that I really connect with. Keep doing "you" - you are appreciated.

 

Jerry

 

I have some thoughts about this.

 

The first is that, of course, what makes very good players very good, is the constant sense that we are not yet where we want to be. We hear what we need to work on "next," and because the Sea of Next is infinite, what starts as something admirably disciplined and task-based can slowly morph into something that corruptly seems to describe our endless failings. We start out in a finite way--"I need to work on independence of my fourth and fifth fingers." That personality trait is an asset. But we end up in a sort of wall-less hell of infinite unworthiness, and I think that's a trap. There is ALWAYS something or someone ahead of us. It's constructive sometimes to remind ourselves of how much of what we do well, is better than how we used to do it.

 

The second is sort of related to the first, and that is this: We "deep listeners" tend to gravitate to magic. That is, we love in other players what seems somehow sent from the Gods or is otherwise beyond our immediate conception. Even if we "understand" what is going on in those moments, we may not understand how the player managed to deploy it in real time, or in the manner that they did. Those players might represent an aspiration for us. BUT...by definition, they are using elements whose mechanism is hidden from us, at least for now. When we hear our own playing, we are only hearing familiar mechanisms. We are waiting for magic, or at least delight, but we know how all the tricks are performed. This can be incredibly demoralizing. The "fix" there is again, to remember how much magic we might be deploying through others' eyes, or even compared to previous versions of us as players. It's not easy, and it's inconsistent with the artists' temperament, but it's the only way to get past that revulsion we all have when we hear ourselves play. Our own mechanisms are just too familiar to us, for our own playing to delight us.

 

And finally: as someone whose teaching studio skews heavily toward adults and often colleagues, I want to confirm that we all carry around a completely abusive bastard inside our brains, whose job is to remind us over and over again that we are incompetent frauds who are wasting everyone's time with the foolish delusion that we can play a single note that means anything. That tendency to see ourselves as kids in a room full of adults is universal among my adult learners. It's always "someone's" voice--mom, dad, sister, teacher--but by adulthood it's completely "ours." But here's the thing. Remember how I said that's the voice's job? The trick here is to remember that it is the voice's ONLY job. It's a one-trick pony. It's the old guys on the Muppet Show who heckle no matter how good or bad the skit is. Knowing that is incredibly important, because once you know it is going to say that shitty stuff no matter what you are playing, you can begin to find equanimity with it and maybe even value it. That's the real trick--not to "get past" it, or silence it, or change it, but to recognize that it comes along as part of you and has only one setting: "ON." Expecting not to hear it is magical thinking, and recipe for disaster. The real solution is not only to expect it, but to accept it, be grateful for it when it's right, ignore it when it's wrong, and just take it as one of a sea of sounds around us, instead of some kind of dark truth. It is a bot. It has one setting. Learning to pat it on the head and say "bless your heart, shitty voice," instead of letting it throw tacks into your bike tires, is IMO the primary skill of successful performers, across all fields. It will NEVER go away. It's baked in, and hoping to not have it or notice it is self-defeatingly unrealistic. The trick is to find equanimity with it, and maybe even power from it. It takes a LOT of self-awareness to do this, but it's the difference between career-sabotaging insecurity, and career-defining accomplishment.

[Spider76]

the sax player (the oldest member in the band, and very, very good) played just ONE NOTE for several bars, varying the rhythm. I hadn't even noticed when we were on stage because it sounded so freaking good in conjunction with the rest of what was going on.

 

This instantly reminded me of this live performance by Maceo Parker, a guy who certainly can play his a*s off, but knows a thing or two about groove

[video:youtube]

 

Already the drum solo starting at 6:40 is incredibly controlled and tasteful. So much space, so few hits and licks, and still it grooves as hard as anything. Then the sax solo begins at 7:20, following in the same style. And as the solo progresses and builds up, instead of playing more Maceo actually plays LESS, until from 9:20 he reaches an amazing climax, driving the audience crazy while playing ONLY ONE note. Exactly as your saxophonist did.

Oh, and all this with only the drummer, without the rest of the band -not even the bass!

 

For me, this solo is an absolute masterpiece. Something that should be studied in music school, seriously.

 

 

Shaun Martin from Snarky Puppy once said "If you can't sing it, it ain't good"

 

That's THE GOLDEN RULE. That's why I can't stand bebop, or metal, etc. I just can't follow their lines unless I sit down, transcribe them, study them and then...ok, they're great, but what's the point if the audience can't notice?

The partial exception is when playing so fast that single notes blend into a bigger melody (think Flight of the Bumblebee). But that's very rare, reserved only for a few geniuses in history. All the rest is meaningless shredding.

 

For me, the turning point was when I played my first monosynth. Until then, I always thought in terms of harmony. Songs were just a progression of chords. Being forced to play just one note exploded my mind, and completely changed the way I see, hear and think music. Now I basically never use my left hand when soloing, and almost only play single-note runs, never chords (when playing with a band of course, solo-duo work is different), and I think my music is MUCH better because of that.

Now I've bought a theremin because I think it may be the best (and HARDEST) ear training, even more than wind or bowed instruments.

[SamuelBLupowitz]

Plenty has been said already, so all I can add is this nugget of wisdom from the legendary Frasier Crane:

 

'If less is more, think of how much more more will be!'