all i've written about here is music. and what it does. to me. a few friends have asked to look even deeper into a musician's mind and, like that horrible line from 'garden state' about enjoying the infinite abyss, it sounds tedious. i will say this, though:
if you were to interpret my playing simply by some of the comments i receive after shows, you would think "but why does jimmy page look so mexican?".
granted, i appreciate anyone taking the time to talk to me. especially about music. and there are the occasional sober comments that are grounded in reality and fun to field. but there are a lot of extraneous factors at work at any given performance - alcohol, drugs, loud music, histrionic guitar maneuvers, loud yelling of commands such as 'clap your hands' or 'say yeah'. they all combine in stunning fashion sometimes and people get swept away for a little while and they want to say thanks. and for that i am very grateful.
but for every show there are many mistakes. lots of minor errors. sometimes loud CLEAR wrongdoings. a vocal harmony that was flat, a chord missing its seventh, a lazy entrance to a chorus. all in real time, all happening at the same time as a lot of other things, and so, all forgiven. if your intentions are good, it seems people will notice. you intend to not make a mistake. but you're human and you do.
there is no relief from this notion. i practice and write and rehearse and record as much as i can and do my best every time i'm working. and every once in a while, you actually do play almost flawlessly (moments you usually can't remember because you 'weren't really there'), but in virtually every instance, some errors are committed. and i remember every cringing moment of those misplaced notes.
so i can't really remember the good moments because they're usually transcendent, and thus, hidden from our conscious selves (and are most likely the moments that everyone is trying to relate to me). and the bad moments are like the ugliest taste in your mouth for days. they linger in your mind like hair in a drain. you don't want to touch the stinky thing.
in another world, perhaps one isn't so harshly judged. but there are no excuses in this world. this music world, for lack of a better term today, shows no mercy. you have to do your best because you love music that much. it seems like a senseless burden to place on yourself (it's music, not cardiology) but that's what each day brings. there are others who place themselves under a similar burden with regard to their work and the shape their lives take. you know some of them. you most likely are one if you're still reading this.
and therein lies that one small comfort that this world allows. you're not alone.
