Tag Archive for 'berklee college of music'

Practice

As I mentioned in a previous post, I am going to start posting online bass lessons. Before I get into anything technical, I wanted to attempt to answer two basic questions that can offer a lot of problems for musicians if they go unanswered. These questions were not answered for me when I was a beginner, and it was not until I was very deep into my musicial education that I finally found some great teachers than taught me some of these fundamentals that I feel like I should have known all along.

Going Solo

The first thing to keep in mind when learning to play a musical instrument is that no one can teach you anything. That’s right, no amount of private lessons, instructional books, videos, or fancy gadgets will yield you any substantial results if you do not put time in on your instrument. Sometimes, practicing untutored can feel like you are beating your head against the wall, and it can be difficult to find the answers alone, but realize that a teacher is really just a guide. A private instructor is simply someone who has been where you currently are and can show you the way.

Bottom line: You still have to do the work.

Question 1: What do I practice?

This question can have many answers. A popular practice session among musicians is sitting down and spending hours playing music we already know, jamming with our favorite CDs, and noodling while we watch TV. After we’re done we brag to our friends that we practiced for hours and we congratulate ourselves incessantly. I am not bashing this kind of self-gratifying performance, because we all do it, it’s fun, and I strongly believe that it needs to be done. However, we need to stop lying to ourselves. This is not practice. This is simply playing. Practice, in my opinion, is working on music you know. Practice is concentrating on weaknesses and developing skills. A regular piece of advice I give my students is that if a concept feels uncomfortable it means you are learning something. Practice is not always fun, and not always easy, but if we learn to acknowledge our weakenesses (which can be the hardest part of practicing) then we have a better grasp of how we will make efforts to improve.

If you are studying with a good teacher then, hopefully, they are giving you material that hones in on your weaknesses, and that is what you should be concentrating on. If you are not currently with a teacher, try to be honest with yourself and acknowledge your faults and find some ways you can go about improving them.

Here are four basic concepts I recommend that you practice (if you do not currently) and my reasons as to why. I believe these are fundamentals that musicians of all levels can stand to improve on:

1. Sight-reading Not simply because I believe that all musicians should be able to read music (though I do). I discovered that when I started to really practice sight-reading, other weaknesses improved because of it. You will find that as you improve as a reader that your knowledge of the fretboard, your internalization of meter, your relative pitch and your basic understanding of rhythm all improve exponentially. So, don’t disregard sight-reading because you are a rock guy and don’t think you need it, because I guarantee you that learning to read will improve the way you play rock music.

2. Scales / Arpeggios It is astonishing how many students I have had that want to solo like Victor Wooten but fail to see the importance of these basic rudiments. I’ll put it in SAT format:

Not learning your scales and arpeggios is to a musician what refusing to look in the dictionary is to an author.

Scales and arpeggios are like words and make up your musical vocabulary. Not knowing these rudiments does not mean you won’t play them, it just means you are not aware that may already play music incorporating these basic rudiments. Being able to understand the music you play and communicate with the musicians you work with is a valuable asset to both professional and amateur musicians alike.

3. Ear Training Ear training can be as simple as learning your favorite song from a CD or sitting in front of a keyboard and matching pitches. The key with ear training is to practice critically, and really work towards remembering what the different intervals sound like, and associate them with music you already know. Most of the time, our instincts are much better than we realize, because even if we are beginners to playing music, we have been listening to music most of our lives and– even if we are unaware of it– know what “in tune” sounds like. At the very least we know what “out of tune” sounds like and that is just as great of a place to begin learning.

4. Playing With Other People So let’s say you’ve got all of this other stuff down and you head out to jam with some friends. The problem is, you’ve been playing for 5 years but have never actually worked with a band and, when you finally do, everything just falls apart. You can’t find “one,” the band plays every song in a different key and you can’t even hear the vocals to follow along. It can be difficult playing with other musicians if you are used to zoning out with your favorite CD. Everyone is capable of making a mistake in the performance environment– a variable that just doesn’t exist when you are rocking out to Sabbath in your bedroom. Playing in a band requires a different kind of listening, and, truth be told, some guys never learn how to do it right. Even at the beginner stage, take every opportunity you can to play with other musicians no matter much better or worse they are than you

Question 2: How long do I practice?

One thing that gets a great deal of controversy is the amount of time spent practicing every day. Some teachers will tell you that you need to practice several hours a day if you expect to be any good. I do not doubt that they are right, to some extent, but I think that this statement can be misleading. Several hours a daydoes not mean several hours in one sitting, or a single hour at a time of intense practice. The adult brain can only take 30 to 45 minutes of concentration at once, so it is important to take breaks. My advice to my students– particularly beginners– is that duration is not as important as consistency. Developing good habits and practicing every day, even if it is for a mere 15 minutes, is better than practicing for an hour on one day and not picking the bass up again for three more days. Much of the learning process is based on repetition, and when you are studying a musical instrument it will be important to remember that you are working towards implementing skills and concepts into your vocabulary to the extent that they become second nature. Most of us cannot accomplish this with a sporadic practice routine.

Treat learning music as though you are learning a foreign language. You cannot expect someone to practice a new language for five hours in a sitting and retain much from that study session. Most likely you will remember only a few things from that session. So, promise yourself to spend 15 to 30 minutes a day practicing, as an absolute minimum. If you spend more time than that, great! Some days you will not want to practice and 30 minutes will feel like a lifetime, but it is important to maintain a routine to keep your skills sharp.

More advanced players will, without a doubt, require more time to digest their workload. However, the same principle holds true. Four hours of non-stop forced practice can be a miserable experience, and if you are not properly organized you can easily overlook essential details. If I am planning such a marathon practice routine (and I am one of the least organized people ever), I jot down a quick outline of what I want to practice and how much time I will allow myself for each task. I treat it, basically, like an exercise routine, including a warm-up and a cool down which may incorporate jamming with a favorite CD. Here is an example of what such an outline might look like:

  1. Warm-up 15 minutes
    1. The Meters - “Look A Py-Py” (or any song I like to play along with that will give me some momentum)
    2. Two Octave Scales / Modes in all keys (5 min)
    3. Four-Part Arpeggios with chromatic approach (5 min)
  2. Core Practice Session
    1. Bach Cello Suite Bouree I & II 20 minutes
    2. James Jamerson Book 20 minutes
    3. Jazz Standards 20 minutes
  3. Cool-down 15 minutes

While attending Berklee College of Music I received the following great advice from Professor Danny Morris:

Enjoy the Process!

What I have taken this to mean is, that we should enjoy the process of learning and creating, and not be hung up on finding the answers and completing the journey. There is always more stuff to know, so that feeling of completion can be fleeting and empty. Just try and have a good time!

I’ll have a ‘real’ lesson up sometime in the next two weeks.

I’m Grumpy.

It is 2:30 AM. I should go to bed. I have a big gig tomorrow as well as a paper and a speech to prepare for the end of my third term at ECPI.. which, by the way, has been getting the best of me.

I don’t have any issues with the subject matter, and I have better grades in my classes than I have had in a long time. I just don’t feel like I fit in the tech-school environment at all. It’s kind of reassuring because I’m not all that fond of the environment. Some of the people can be tough to warm up to. Seldom does anyone get my jokes, or my perspective, I am frequently met with blank stares by my fellow students and even a few teachers. I get tackled by computer geeks with musical passions who want to talk music with me and then proceed to trash this band and that band because their music isn’t complicated enough– and they expect that I am right behind them (”because you went to Berklee”) and I have to politely change the subject because I don’t want to get into it.

ECPI has helped me to really respect the time I spent at Berklee College of Music. I am so glad I went there now that I see what the stark contrast between a four-year art school and a two-year tech school can be like. At Berklee every student has a personal agenda, they have an idea about they are doing or want to be doing when they graduate. It could be said that, in a way, Berklee students are more or less experts on the way into admission, they just want to improve. ECPI is basically for people who have no skills and need to find a new job, or kids who have skills and want to jump into the field as quickly as possible. Some classes at Berklee may be general but everyone makes an effort to take what they learn worth a grain of salt in order to apply it directly to their interests and their instrument. If you write a series of four-part chords in treble clef on the board in a Berklee harmony class, every musician in the class– no matter what instrument they play– can almost innately understand that the chords can be moved around, reharmonized, and put into different keys or clefs. At ECPI, f you write “NTFS is a Windows file system that looks like purple smoke coming out of my ass” you can be sure that half of the class will take that as literally as they can and one nitwit might even write it down just in case it’s on the test.

I am not slagging ECPI.. not really. I am just reminded of the Myers Briggs test I took in Eddie McGrath’s class my least semester at Berklee, and how that test demonstrated the fundamental personality differences musicians have from the rest of the population. I never thought of us as being all that different until I saw these statistics.. I’ll dig them up sometime and share them with you.

Going into this ECPI, I was convinced that being a musician was going to somehow magically affect the way I learned and performed there. I mean, abstraction isn’t a common skill in tech schools and I was convinced I had something to offer by being a little different. I have all but abandoned that fantasy. The vibe I am getting here is that they want conformity and standardization and that really bums me out. Being a musician has nothing to do with computers.. and I know that must seem like a very obvious, if not hilarious, statement for someone to make with any serious intent. I am already sick of going to school, even though I know I am in it for the haul now. I have no other options, because I owe a lot of money in student loans, and, someday, I’d like to be able to move somewhere else and music isn’t going to pay for either of those things on it’s own.

Oh well. I’ll tell you guys how the King’s X gig goes on Sunday. I’m going to bed.

Something For Lester

Sometime in 1998 I was attending my first lesson with Whit Browne at Berklee College of Music. I picked Whit as my teacher after an incredibly embarrassing placement audition. Whit was actually one of the professors that auditioned me, and I won’t say I was totally horrible, I just didn’t know what was expected of me. They said, “let’s play a blues” and I played a blues shuffle (a la Freddie King), when what they meant was “play a ‘jazz blues’ ” (a la Oscar Peterson). I fell flat on my face and took the first great shot to my ego of the many that I would receive at Berklee.

Later on, I’m in my first lesson and I’m bright-eyed and excited to be there. Furthermore, I’m nervous as hell. It only takes you a few moments to realize that Whit is exceptionally easy to get along with, but he can tend to come off like a Drill-Sergeant on first impression. Anyway, Whit tells me to get set up while he finishes writing something in his lesson plan. I get my bass out and I plug into this little Fender combo amp he has in his room and I notice the treble knob is missing and cranked almost all the way up. I make a conscious effort to not fiddle with the knobs, I guess, because, I’d heard somewhere that it was rude to mess with someone else’s amp. I suppose I was little gun shy after the placement audition.

So I play a little bit, noodling around, and he jumps up out of his chair and starts yelling at me “That don’t sound like no bass to me, man! Turn that treble down, that’s why I took the knob off!” And he proceeds to lecture me about how “the bass goes boom boom boom” and “they hear ya before they hear ya!” (He was referring to an audiences’ ability to know a good sound from a bad sound regardless of their awareness of the musical content). I attempt to explain that I didn’t turn it up, that it was like that already, but he doesn’t seem to be buying it. To this day I’m not sure if he turned that knob up just to mess with me. It wouldn’t surprise me if he did.

Then we start talking about the way lessons work at Berklee, what he expects of me, proficiency exams, etc. Then we talk about music, my favorite bass players, what kind of stuff I am into, what I know and what I don’t know. At some point there is this exchange:

“Do you play Jazz?”

“Not really. I like Jazz, but I don’t have much experience with it.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you choose me to be your teacher?”

“Well you seemed kind of tough at the audition, and I need someone to kick me in the ass.”

“Well I can do that, but I’m known here as one of the Jazz guys, you don’t play Jazz?”

“No.”

“Do you like Jazz?”

“Yeah I like it, I don’t really know much about it.”

“Well this is a Jazz school. When in Rome you have to make the like the Romans. Have you ever heard of Ray Brown?”

“I’ve heard the name, but I’ve never listened to him.”

“Well, there’s not much we can do this week. If you’ve never heard Jazz I can’t teach you to play it.”

“Ah. Well…”

“Your first assignment is to go buy a Ray Brown CD, listen to it every day. You need to get the sound in your head.”

“Which CD should I buy?”

“Doesn’t matter. You don’t know what the hell you’re listening to anyway.”

And that was the end of the lesson. I hung my head in shame and I walked down Boylston to Tower Records on Mass. Ave (now Virgin Megastore) and I bought Ray Brown - “Something For Lester” (1978, Contemporary Records). It’s still one of my favorite Jazz albums. At the time I remember that I looked at the cover of the CD and I saw Elvin Jones’ name– I’d never heard him– and remembered my neighbor, Tom Arey, a drummer, going on and on about Elvin so I bought the CD because I figured that, if these Ray Brown and Elvin Jones guys were so great that this would be an ok album to buy. I had no idea who Cedar Walton was so I just figured he’d be at least good enough to hang with these other guys.

Jeez. Ignorance is bliss. That seems like forever ago now. I’ve bought hundreds of CD’s since then based on “informed” decisions and I haven’t been nearly as pleased with them as I still am with this one.

Highlights for me: Ray taking the melodies on “Georgia on My Mind” and “Sister Sadie.” Elvin and Ray jamming over the intro of the first track “Ojos De Rojo,” I wasn’t sure if drums were supposed to sound that way or not.. I’d never heard anything like it before. Ray’s solo on “Slippery” makes me smile involountarily.