Good Vibrations Part 2

Despite occasional appearances, I put an excruciating amount of thought into every word I write; it is the only way I know how to truly express myself. That’s not to say that I don’t occasionally regret what I end up saying after said deep thought! For example, here’s a half-baked idea I would like to at least partially rescind: My statements regarding what makes for a “true” musician, in the reading vs/and/or ear-playing argument of my last blog. Let’s just file that in the “opinions—everyone has them and most of them stink” bin and call it a day.

All I know is, I intend to maximize every possible aspect of my own musicianship; to do less would be to accept less than the best results for myself. If you can’t read, why not learn? Don’t you think it might make you a better musician? What does some famous musician’s lack of reading skills have to do with your skill set? Are you comparing yourself with them? If so, why aren’t you as famous as them? I spent many years comparing myself to Buddy Wachter, and look what it’s gotten me; twice as much frustration as achievement! I’m only trying to encourage other banjo-musicians to join me in my quest for personal perfection, and in turn to help raise the image of the four-string banjo. What drives me is the desire to have the banjo seen as a musical instrument, not just an entertainment device. Anyway. . .

If you think about it, music is nothing but vibration; a musical instrument (to include the human body) only makes music when a musician manipulates it and causes it to vibrate and emit sound—whether it’s the strings/tone ring of a banjo, the buzzing lips/brass of a trumpet, or the vocal cords/diaphragm of a vocalist. Our vibration-receivers—aka ears—then pick up the vibrations and interpret them as “music.” The question is, does every receiver interpret those vibrations the same way? Do we all give the same value to the sound? I can’t imagine we do, given all the variables involved.

There are those among us who believe that “music” exists as an independent entity. In other words, musical vibrations already exist whether there is a musician involved or not; every song that has ever been written—or that ever will be written—exists and envelops us in the very air that we breath (music is just one of the countless wavelengths present). It’s just waiting to be translated into audible vibration by a perceptive musician. A “true” musician then is one who is capable of “receiving the signal” and channeling it through an instrument (just like a true artist “sees” their end product before they pick up a brush or a chisel, or a true novelist knows the story before they start to write).

I choose to believe in this, even though I’m not yet sure if I myself am properly equipped to receive or translate it. As stated in a previous blog, that is my ultimate goal; to “let go and let Music.” Writing about it, and thus learning from feedback (and my occasional “writer’s regret”) is just one of my approaches to this goal.

A relevant thought has occurred to me; how does any of this stuff relate to the banjo? Well, except for a few notable exceptions, it doesn’t. . .but it should. I talk a lot about the importance of the historic four-string banjo styles; that is re-creative music, and all one has to do is copy what came before (no “creation” required). This is of course important to developing technique, and having an understanding of and appreciation for what the banjo has already been shown to be capable of; before you can break the rules, you must know what they are.

To create music—music that has never been heard before (or more appropriately, never been made audible before)—now that’s a different story! As a music history buff, I love the past, but I certainly do care about the future of the banjo as well, to include what kinds of music may someday be played on it; musical progress—informed by tradition—is what any instrument needs to remain relevant and to keep its unique and historically-special identity (which the banjo certainly has). Ask any modern, avant-garde Classical pianist how important Bach is to them and their ability to move forward.

There are two basic ways to create truly new music; composition (which generally requires years of rigorous practice and study), and jazz improvisation (which generally requires years of rigorous practice and study). Playing a newer song on the banjo—a song that someone else has already created but never played on the banjo—is not necessarily being “creative”; interpreting it in a “creative way”—well okay, I’ll accept that to a point. Be careful when you say you’re doing “something new.” New to you and/or the banjo, or new to the world? I feel a great sense of responsibility in this, and would never claim something to be new unless it truly was.

I say “generally” because there are obviously exceptions to that almost-universal rule; there are musical savants who seemingly create music out of thin air, apparently without any special training or knowledge of music theory, either through composition or improvisation. Reference my music-as-vibration comments above; a tiny minority of folks are simply “conduits” for the musical signal present in thin air! There is a danger to this: Comparing yourself to a savant will only lead to disappointment, unless you are one yourself (statistically doubtful). If nothing else, the vibration theory makes this “gift” seem more explainable, and gives me hope; is there a way to train yourself or others to be a conduit? If I could answer that, I would be rich. Call me a dreamer, but I would love to be the one to crack that code!

I’ve given a lot of thought lately to why I hear music in my head. I am aware that not everyone does, so I suppose it is a bit of a gift. Questions: Is the music there through conscious thought, or am I unconsciously tuning in to the vibrations? If it is unconscious, can it be capitalized on? Can a “weak signal” be amplified somehow through training or maybe meditation? Can someone who lacks head music be trained to hear it? Must one be a savant to have it or benefit from it?

In case you haven’t noticed, much of my writing is meant to ask more questions than it is to answer those questions, and to hopefully spur discussion. I benefit from putting my deep thoughts into words, whether you benefit from reading them or not!