Danhedonia
Noted duckfat enthusiast
Navel-gazing warning: introspection ahead.
I posted recently on this forum, asking for tips on technical improvement. After sorting through some of the responses, a more important question presented itself: Why do I play guitar?
When I was a young child, my parents had an ugly divorce. They also acquired Abbey Road, and (amazingly) permitted my older sister and me to use the phonograph. One of my strongest childhood memories is cranking up all of side two of that album to drown out the sounds of their raised voices. From those moments forward, music became a place of safety, beauty and private joy for me.
A much sweeter memory is receiving my own little record player for my eighth birthday. It was a Realistic one-piece, made of plastic, with a dreadful four inch speaker, but a treasure to an eight year old. I also got four albums as gifts that birthday: Sweet's "Desolation Boulevard," the Beach Boys' Greatest Hits, "Bachman Turner Overdrive II" and Elton John's "Caribou."
There was a Kent acoustic guitar in the house, and I recall being fascinated by it. But the Mel Bay books inside the cardboad box said nothing to me, and it wasn't until I was 12 that I pieced together parental contributions and my own saved allowances to get a Gibson Sonex 180 Deluxe. I took a few lessons, and promptly quit when my (comically long haired, chain smoking hippie) teacher said to me "punk is junk" when I brought in a Clash song. Still proud of that.
My adolescent years were pretty rough, in a lot of the ways kids' lives can be rough: parental abuse, drugs, stints on the streets, mental health problems. But music was always there for me, a constant positive, and I was obsessed by it. I was lucky enough to have been juuuuuuuuust old enough to experience the first wave of punk and alternative, all ages shows, fanzines and finding like-minded people because of music - something the internet has simply bypassed. I loved all kinds of pop music, too -- funk, country, early hip hop, metal. Disco and synth pop.
I wrote songs, too. Most were insanely crude, a smidgen of an idea buried in a sea of teenage angst. A couple weren't bad, though, and even when I was literally a crazy person living on the street, I heard gorgeous music in my head. All the time. I was physically separated from the Sonex, but got it back when I settled down and finished college, and met my lifelong friend Pete Weiss (Zippah and Verdant studios; Tape Op; the Weisstronauts) when we wound up realizing that two dorm rooms away, someone ELSE was cranking REM's "Murmur" at top volume. God, I love Pete.
He thought we were sharing musical interests and messing around on guitars, but really, he was saving my life. We did some crude recording, too -- and somewhere during a blurry haze of a couple years of immersion in the Smiths, New Order, Game Theory, Jesus and Mary Chain, Three O'Clock, Cure, etc. etc. etc. I realized why I wanted to play guitar: to share the music in my head.
That was also the time in my life that I realized that other guys (because they were ALWAYS male) who played guitar did so for very different reasons: to get laid; to emulate musicians they revered; to enjoy playing with others; to participate in a band. I don't judge -- they're all great reasons, intensely enjoyable in different ways.
Later in life I worked a bit doing A&R formally and informally, and my familiarity with the joys and frustrations of getting that music out really helped me to work with talented musicians. I remember a session once with a musician who was very frustrated even though our (expensive, major-label-supplied) producer and the rest of the band were happy with his performance. "Hum it," I said. "Show me what it's SUPPOSED to sound like." Tone chasing? Of course. And hardly unremarkable. But I knew the pain of chasing and failing, and we're still friends to this day. I always bond right away with people who hear music in their heads, even when their drug habits or politics are horrifying. It's a deeply felt thing.
Now, the only reason I play guitar is to make sounds that, for lack of a better term, provide an outlet to get the music out of my head and into the air. I regret not having dedicated more of my life to playing and being a far better player, but I have no regrets about what I hear in my head, nor am I in denial about how much of it is derivative of my life's listening. That music is pretty to me, pleasant and joyful just as music should be. If I couldn't enjoy music (my own as well as others') I'm certain I'd become a shadow of myself.
I play guitar to feel joy. I play guitar to get the music out. I play guitar to exorcise my demons. I play guitar because it sounds so fine.
Why do you play guitar?
I posted recently on this forum, asking for tips on technical improvement. After sorting through some of the responses, a more important question presented itself: Why do I play guitar?
When I was a young child, my parents had an ugly divorce. They also acquired Abbey Road, and (amazingly) permitted my older sister and me to use the phonograph. One of my strongest childhood memories is cranking up all of side two of that album to drown out the sounds of their raised voices. From those moments forward, music became a place of safety, beauty and private joy for me.
A much sweeter memory is receiving my own little record player for my eighth birthday. It was a Realistic one-piece, made of plastic, with a dreadful four inch speaker, but a treasure to an eight year old. I also got four albums as gifts that birthday: Sweet's "Desolation Boulevard," the Beach Boys' Greatest Hits, "Bachman Turner Overdrive II" and Elton John's "Caribou."
There was a Kent acoustic guitar in the house, and I recall being fascinated by it. But the Mel Bay books inside the cardboad box said nothing to me, and it wasn't until I was 12 that I pieced together parental contributions and my own saved allowances to get a Gibson Sonex 180 Deluxe. I took a few lessons, and promptly quit when my (comically long haired, chain smoking hippie) teacher said to me "punk is junk" when I brought in a Clash song. Still proud of that.
My adolescent years were pretty rough, in a lot of the ways kids' lives can be rough: parental abuse, drugs, stints on the streets, mental health problems. But music was always there for me, a constant positive, and I was obsessed by it. I was lucky enough to have been juuuuuuuuust old enough to experience the first wave of punk and alternative, all ages shows, fanzines and finding like-minded people because of music - something the internet has simply bypassed. I loved all kinds of pop music, too -- funk, country, early hip hop, metal. Disco and synth pop.
I wrote songs, too. Most were insanely crude, a smidgen of an idea buried in a sea of teenage angst. A couple weren't bad, though, and even when I was literally a crazy person living on the street, I heard gorgeous music in my head. All the time. I was physically separated from the Sonex, but got it back when I settled down and finished college, and met my lifelong friend Pete Weiss (Zippah and Verdant studios; Tape Op; the Weisstronauts) when we wound up realizing that two dorm rooms away, someone ELSE was cranking REM's "Murmur" at top volume. God, I love Pete.
He thought we were sharing musical interests and messing around on guitars, but really, he was saving my life. We did some crude recording, too -- and somewhere during a blurry haze of a couple years of immersion in the Smiths, New Order, Game Theory, Jesus and Mary Chain, Three O'Clock, Cure, etc. etc. etc. I realized why I wanted to play guitar: to share the music in my head.
That was also the time in my life that I realized that other guys (because they were ALWAYS male) who played guitar did so for very different reasons: to get laid; to emulate musicians they revered; to enjoy playing with others; to participate in a band. I don't judge -- they're all great reasons, intensely enjoyable in different ways.
Later in life I worked a bit doing A&R formally and informally, and my familiarity with the joys and frustrations of getting that music out really helped me to work with talented musicians. I remember a session once with a musician who was very frustrated even though our (expensive, major-label-supplied) producer and the rest of the band were happy with his performance. "Hum it," I said. "Show me what it's SUPPOSED to sound like." Tone chasing? Of course. And hardly unremarkable. But I knew the pain of chasing and failing, and we're still friends to this day. I always bond right away with people who hear music in their heads, even when their drug habits or politics are horrifying. It's a deeply felt thing.
Now, the only reason I play guitar is to make sounds that, for lack of a better term, provide an outlet to get the music out of my head and into the air. I regret not having dedicated more of my life to playing and being a far better player, but I have no regrets about what I hear in my head, nor am I in denial about how much of it is derivative of my life's listening. That music is pretty to me, pleasant and joyful just as music should be. If I couldn't enjoy music (my own as well as others') I'm certain I'd become a shadow of myself.
I play guitar to feel joy. I play guitar to get the music out. I play guitar to exorcise my demons. I play guitar because it sounds so fine.
Why do you play guitar?
