There's an old saying to the effect of "If I only knew then what I know now."  There's some wisdom in that I guess, but one could also twist it around to say "If I could only know now what I knew back then."  Perhaps there are a few guitarists out there exposed to the ravages and vices of the "musician's lifestyle" who could appreciate that version; however this thought came to me while dwelling on a completely different context.

I was sorting through some packing boxes and found some really old tapes of music I had recorded from maybe 15 or so years ago.  I've got tons of the stuff; consisting of loosely recorded ideas, jams and fully-realized songs.  It's always a mixed-bag for me when I go back and listen to these things.  On one hand, I feel fortunate to have something tangible to chart my progress with music; however these documents serve as a reminder of how little I really knew about the guitar and life in general.  Once in awhile, a piece of playing pops up where I think it sounds pretty good.  I find myself wondering "How in the heck did I play that?"  I begin to think that I could play certain things better years ago!

The one thing I've tried to do when listening to myself lately, is to be less judgmental.  I'm always trying to improve on the guitar and follow it wherever it's taking me as well as lead it to certain places; but I've always been so critical of myself and have tended to emphasize when a particular self-imposed standard hasn't been met.   I am more attuned these days to an idea that after a fair number of years of playing the guitar I am going to sound a certain way no matter the intention to alter it.  Of course, that's not all bad to me because I wouldn't be playing today if there wasn't something fulfilling me with my music.

I am learning that life gives us wisdom; but it can also leave us more confused about things than ever before.  Thus we have the saying "The more I know, the less I know."  I woke up this morning (no, this isn't the start of a blues song) thinking about something that just begged to be written down.  "The difference between yesterday and today is that back then I didn't know much; while today, I know I don't know much."

I've been listening to a lot of music lately.  I've been going back into my album collection and rediscovering music of my childhood as well as learning about acts I had pretty much ignored until now.  There are moments when I'm blown away, realizing that this great music was always there but I had not found it.  Sometimes I think about the fact that there was so much amazing creativity going on long before I was born, that everything which needed to be said was done before I ever entered the music "game".  It was as if the game was over before I even started playing it.  I also think about some of the musicians I play with and understand that they were going through a lot of the experiences I am currently having, long before I even knew what a guitar was.

We all strive to create something meaningful with our music.  For some, it becomes a competitive thing based upon abilities.  I think I've been to that place, especially as a younger guitarist; but it sure seems silly to me to sit here and refer back to my "younger days" as 10 or 15 years ago when a group like The Rolling Stones would merely regard that amount of time as a break between albums  Yes, the older I get, the less I think I know.  Yet even saying the word "older" is bound to get some raised eyebrows from those born a long time before me who would look at me as still somewhat youthful, which I guess I am.  The perspective of time can be an interesting thing, indeed.

That said, I still feel very aware that my outlook on music is changing a lot right now.  When you reach your mid-30s, I believe you start thinking about your overall role and legacy more.  I don't mean "legacy" in an egotistical way, but rather in a personal context.  I look at my involvement with the guitar and assess just what it is I'm doing with it.  The visions of fortune and fame as a youngster have long faded, and I am at peace with that (though it's okay to still try and find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow).

I'm a lot older now than many people I grew up admiring were when they "made it."  I also look at some of the mind-boggling talented people out there who never become household names or reap the rewards of their labor and think "Gosh, if someone like that can't make this thing work, then what am I going to do?"  That's not to say that lesser talented individuals don't "make it".  In fact, that seems to be more and more the case these days.  On a realistic level, though, it is getting harder to create something completely original while working in the parameters we've become accustomed to in the past few decades of guitar playing.

It is during reflective times such as this that I tend to focus on my definition of success.  Call it "copping out" or charting a path of personal relevance; but I try to think about the positive aspects of my current musical being (abilities, achievements, experiences) and reconcile them with realistic goals for the future (improving my abilities, playing for the pure joy of making music, etc....things that don't always rely on the actions and acceptance of others).  It doesn't mean that I give up on trying to fit myself into situations that might be rewarding financially or from a recognition perspective.  It also doesn't mean that I totally keep myself from letting my wilder desires and dreams take flight.  I just want to have fun with the guitar and be in total control of my happiness with it everyday for the rest of my life.

There will be great musicians in the future, just as there have been in the past.  Is a musician's validity determined by how many people hear and relate to his music or is it good enough to touch just one soul, even if it is oneself?  What about the person who liked to draw and received so much joy from it even though she kept her work tucked away from the world?  I think it's up for the artist to decide.  The world usually becomes a better place when creativity is shared; but I don't think the ultimate judge of one's work has to be the sheer number of people affected by it.

I am more concerned now with becoming a better and more well-rounded musician.  I'm delving into books, trying to teach myself as I teach others.  (One should ask himself if he's trying to learn more to impress others or if it's because he thinks the knowledge gained will facilitate more creativity.  You can read some more thoughts here.)

There's always the danger of becoming so discouraged by somebody else's talents that it prevents you from trying to get your own music out.  Perfectionists in particular are susceptible to this.  Without drawing any conclusions about musical legitimacy or technical abilities, Chuck Berry's place in musical history is secure, as is Pat Metheny's.  Musical history, though, can encompass a lot more than fame or records sold.  History is everything of all-time. It's just that some of it gets recorded (no pun intended) while most of it doesn't.  If I take my guitar into the bathroom (c'mon and admit it, you've all done it at least once) and strum a "C" chord, it's part of history.  Likewise, the average Joe playing for three people at the local pub is a part of history.  If being a part of musical history is your goal, relax, because you already are.

Though I can't say I've been there, I do think I know enough to intuitively say that there are aspects of "making it" that are illusions.  Once the glamorous show is over, the artist still has to go home with himself  (or with a supermodel to his mansion). See here for an interesting read. Achieving fame or even basic applause as a means of affirming your importance is an unfulfilling thing in the end.  How do I know that?  Because I've been there.  If the applause makes you whole and happy, then what are you going to do when it's no longer there?  You (and I) have to find a deeper and truer reason for playing music which is independent of external coercion and comparisons.  It also helps to develop a personal degree of integrity, which is always open to be challenged in our world today.

 It simply comes down to the fact that we all have a song inside that can be different from another's, and we really should try the best we can over the course of our lives to get it out either for ourselves or for the rest of the world to hear.  If just one person reads this and somehow feels comforted knowing that there are other musicians on the same road, then it will be worth the time it took for me to meditate on these thoughts.

Now get off my couch and pay the secretary on the way out  ;-)
 

Jason