As I’m sure you know by now, my overriding goal on the plectrum banjo is to be able to improvise jazz. Besides just wanting to do it for myself, I see it as a way to help the banjo become more versatile and more relevant. Keeping that goal in mind, I see the ability to do so on a spectrum. This spectrum has the “natural” musician on one end, and the “learn-ed” musician on the other.
The extreme natural (a “savant,” of which there are a few) “knows nothing,” and just plays from the heart. The extreme learn-ed “knows it all,” but lacks the natural ability to just play without music in front of them. We all know examples of both extremes; the very best musicians are strong in both aspects. The vast majority of us are somewhere in between them; we must identify our own strengths/weaknesses—where we are on the spectrum—and what needs attention in order to broaden our hold on that line.
As you can imagine, the naturals are the envy of the rest of us! As such, they are held out as the prime example of how to improvise jazz. The only problem is, unless you are a natural as well, that “just let it happen” ideal is nothing more than a pipe-dream. We all would like to think we’re naturals (“I can do that too!”). On the other hand, it’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking “well, it doesn’t just happen for me, so I guess I just ain’t got it”; that double-ended trap held me for 20 years! It took that long for me to wake up, silence my silly ego, and admit “okay, I ain’t got it, but I’m going to get it!” So, my inflated belief in and reliance on my natural skills (such as they are) kept me from doing the hard work and learning necessary for such a lofty goal as jazz improvisation.
I believe that the learn-ed musician can, well, learn to play jazz. Truly letting go? That I’m not so sure of. I know plenty of highly-trained-but-unnatural musicians who play jazz pretty well (and plenty who try but just don’t quite have it). The key I believe is being able to “let go with what you know.” Naturally-having or learning “jazz feeling” and/or an inner jazz “soundtrack” (hearing it in your “mind’s ear”) wouldn’t hurt either.
Improvisation does not mean “inventing new music on the spot out of thin air” (though that does happen sometimes); it just means letting go of your inhibitions and playing/reacting to the music. The majority of what even top jazz musicians play is stuff that they have already played many times, or at least stuff that is informed by/made possible by what they already know how to play. Why else would they practice their scales, arpeggios, and patterns so much? Because they enjoy it?
“Aye, there’s the rub!” Believing that it will just magically happen for you is an excuse not to practice! Why should you have to practice if it just happens? Well silly, without practice, how do you expect to develop and continually-improve the physical ability to play single-note jazz improv? If you’ve never played a scale or an arpeggio, do you honestly think your fingers will somehow magically find their way when needed? The same goes for your picking hand; if all you’ve ever done is strum chords, you will lack the practiced ability to pick single notes. Then you have to coordinate your fast-picking with your fretting; these things are not “easy” or “natural” by any stretch of the imagination (unless you yourself are a natural)!
And yes, I know all too well that “so-and-so” doesn’t have to practice, and claims to “know nothing” about scales, arpeggios, or any of that ivory-tower theory stuff. Remember what I said about using naturals as your guiding light; are you like “so-and-so?” If you were, you wouldn’t be wasting your time reading my nonsense! I’m speaking from personal experience here; these are all physical and egotistical hurdles that I have had to overcome—and I’m now doing so by open-minded study and practice.
When I play the sax (my most-natural instrument, which I admittedly don’t practice), there is only one pathway available, and it’s fairly easy for me to match up what I hear in my head with my fingers (not that I’m great, just that I get the job done). That’s not so easy on a complex fretted instrument like the banjo. The banjo has many possibilities—some of which are not terribly obvious or intuitive; the more you explore, discover, and practice those possibilities, the more likely you’ll be able to use them in the heat of the moment.
So, apparently lacking the natural ability to improvise jazz on the plectrum banjo—and seeing the lack of banjo-specific training materials for the purpose—I have decided to try (“try” being the operative word) to write a book on the subject. Really, it’s just a bunch of scales, arpeggios, and “jazz-like” patterns (and the basic, practical theory behind them); I’m calling it “A Framework for Jazz.”
Improv cannot be taught; only learned. I can only teach the obvious physical/mental framework—the things that will inform and make possible the emotional expression of what is in your head. In the final analysis, that’s what it comes down to: What music do you have inside your head (your “mind’s ear”) waiting to be expressed? If there isn’t any, better get to listening to and internalizing lots of jazz! In the meantime, training your fingers for jazz action will make everything you do on the banjo easier; you can’t lose!
“Shoot for the moon; even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars!”
Les Brown