I think too much! I know I do, and it drives me crazy. My over-thinking inhibits a lot of things, including the smooth flow of music from my brain, through my fingers, and out of my instrument. I’m the perfectionist type who has to stop and fix mistakes while reading or typing; if I know I made a mistake, it will dominate my thoughts until I do something about it. You can’t do that in music! You just have to let it go and keep moving.
A lot of this thought is generated by a deep-seated fear of making mistakes; my conscious mind is afraid of letting the subconscious take over, lest I forget where I am in the music and (shudder) play a wrong chord, or morph into a similar song. I simply don’t trust it. This is why I rarely stray from the melody, except when I’m playing a memorized, worked-up solo. Lucky for me that I’m a good chord melody player, and seem to handle the Classic banjo style well (written music, played exactly the same way every time). Fear makes it difficult to go beyond those comfortable styles though.
I see this as the last remaining roadblock to my goal of jazz improvisation. I used to think that I just didn’t have the necessary imagination; I now realize that my imagination is fine, but fear of mistakes simply overrides it. Imagination steps forward and takes chances; fear pulls it back. I’ve been working hard at letting my imagination run free while in the safety of my music room, where nobody can hear me.
Another principle I’ve been working on is to maximize my physical skills and knowledge. This is in hopes of developing a high-enough degree of musical skill that I can simply overpower my fear—not necessarily in the sense of letting confidence take over, but in raising my fear-inhibited level of skill. Of course, I hope that confidence will eventually rule, but I’m hedging my bets in case my habitual fear continues to dominate (a hard habit to break, let me tell you); at least I’ll be able to do something in spite of it.
This is why I’ve been working hard on scales and arpeggios, and learning jazz patterns (and writing a book of them); I’m taking advantage of my thinking skills to develop single-string patterns that sound like jazz improv, preparing for the day when I am finally free of fear. I truly believe the consciously-learned stuff will inform my unconscious improvisation someday. When I do learn to “let it go,” I will have something to let go, and to let go of.
This is just the kind of person I am with everything; lacking the fearless ability to just “let it go” (as some people do), I am having to compensate through practice and study (more thought). I know plenty of thinking jazz musicians; many of today’s top jazz guys/gals fit that category. Jazz is not the sole domain of uneducated musical savants, as many folks seem to think (though there certainly are some out there); the majority had to work hard for their high level of skill! To me, it makes more sense to follow and emulate the hard work paradigm (what I apparently need) then to wish for the native ability paradigm (which I apparently do not represent).
This essay was inspired by some tenor banjo work I’m doing right now. I’m finishing up my update of Emile Grimshaw’s How to Master the Tenor Banjo for Clifford Essex, and I’m working on recording the harder exercises now. Some of them have lots of notes; I’m riding a fine line between thinking about every note (and pushing the limits on how fast I can think and play at the same time), and learning them so well that I can just let it fly without thinking. If I had a couple more years for this project, I would be able to let the whole thing fly! As it is, I have to get it done now (being long overdue to the publisher), and I refuse to cheat by speeding up the recordings. I’m using it as a testbed for my goal of letting go.
It would be natural for you to think that my blog writing is an example of overthinking; you would be absolutely correct in that assumption! What it has done for me though is to discipline my thoughts and put them into a logical order, and thus pave the path for evolution of thought; I recommend the process for anyone so afflicted! Prior to taking up writing, the only times I was focused was in college and at work (and many who worked with me would argue my work focus!). So, I was stuck with random, slightly-ADHD thoughts zipping around aimlessly inside my intelligent but undisciplined brain—hardly a recipe for success. I was trapped in that mental paradigm with little chance for escape; writing has provided the escape route.
Someday, when I’ve learned to let go, perhaps the need to write blogs will go as well; for now though, you’re stuck with me and my crazy, random thoughts! And of course, I always like to think that someone else will see themselves in my writing, and will find another clue to their journey.