Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Scaling the Next Hurdle
You know that your husband loves you when he presents you with two amazing guitar books for beginners on Mother's Day. The first is The Beatles Complete Chord Songbook (more on this little slice of happiness in a later post). The second is Total Scales Techniques and Applications by Mark John Sternal.
For the beginning amateur guitarist, the Internet is awash in resources—some free, some not so free. There are plenty of would-be guitar instructors on YouTube, and plenty more touting their own systems on their personal Web sites. While I appreciate these online sources, it is awfully nice to get one's hands on a music book. Not only are they easier to read, but you don't have to worry about your screensaver kicking on in the middle of puzzling out a line of music.
Up until now, I've been finding songs I like and strumming blockily through them to my heart's content. But this is only satisfying for so long. Block chords have their place, of course, but most songs use combinations of single notes and chords to create beautiful music. The block chord route can sound a little, well, shouty, if you know what I mean.
To get out of the block chord blahs requires homework, and that's where Sternal's book comes in. Sternal's step-by-step approach to learning scales not only teaches proper technique but also familiarizes beginning guitarists with the location of the notes on the fretboard and how they relate to one another. He also has included a handy CD to demonstrate what a beautiful scale is supposed to sound like. It's very therapeutic after struggling sadly from one note to another on my own!
Sternal's approach reminds me exactly of my piano lessons growing up, during which I was taught a new scale every week and asked to play it perfectly at the next lesson. Of course, I never did. Those scales, unless they were incredibly easy C major scales, always sounded like Syssiphus on the uphill trek with his ginormous boulder: halting and sweaty. Let's just say, I didn't practice.
As on the piano, scales on the guitar are an excellent orienteering exercise. So, I am motivated to learn this new terrain of the fretboard, no matter how slow my progress. But we're talking slow. I just spent a sad 15 minutes or so laboring up the "E position C major/ Am scale or Third Position" on page 12.
Part of the struggle is the addition of the pick. I have been finger-strumming up until this point, but as the pick is so prevalent these days, I'm going to have to learn it sometime. The book recommends picking these scales, and I am. But, yikes! That little piece of plastic is slowing me all the way down. I assume it will take me two or three hours to finally master page 12. With 152 pages to go, I will probably be at this book for a long time—if not for the rest of my life. Yikes!
A note for my fellow publishing types: Sternal's self-published book (2008, revised edition) is in pretty good shape, all things considered. There are relatively few typos, which for a presumably amateur publishing effort is quite impressive. But there is one quirk that makes me laugh every time. The manual will cruise along for pages in Times New Roman then—bam!—you're in Arial. If I were to give Sternal the benefit of the doubt, I would guess this was to separate the revised content from the original content. But I think it's probably just an oversight. Also, there is something a little bit hilarious about the author pic at the end of this book of scales—Sternal appears to be all hair and tank top. My husband confesses that he nearly passed on the book because of the picture, but caved due to rave reviews online.
For the beginning amateur guitarist, the Internet is awash in resources—some free, some not so free. There are plenty of would-be guitar instructors on YouTube, and plenty more touting their own systems on their personal Web sites. While I appreciate these online sources, it is awfully nice to get one's hands on a music book. Not only are they easier to read, but you don't have to worry about your screensaver kicking on in the middle of puzzling out a line of music.
Up until now, I've been finding songs I like and strumming blockily through them to my heart's content. But this is only satisfying for so long. Block chords have their place, of course, but most songs use combinations of single notes and chords to create beautiful music. The block chord route can sound a little, well, shouty, if you know what I mean.
To get out of the block chord blahs requires homework, and that's where Sternal's book comes in. Sternal's step-by-step approach to learning scales not only teaches proper technique but also familiarizes beginning guitarists with the location of the notes on the fretboard and how they relate to one another. He also has included a handy CD to demonstrate what a beautiful scale is supposed to sound like. It's very therapeutic after struggling sadly from one note to another on my own!
Sternal's approach reminds me exactly of my piano lessons growing up, during which I was taught a new scale every week and asked to play it perfectly at the next lesson. Of course, I never did. Those scales, unless they were incredibly easy C major scales, always sounded like Syssiphus on the uphill trek with his ginormous boulder: halting and sweaty. Let's just say, I didn't practice.
As on the piano, scales on the guitar are an excellent orienteering exercise. So, I am motivated to learn this new terrain of the fretboard, no matter how slow my progress. But we're talking slow. I just spent a sad 15 minutes or so laboring up the "E position C major/ Am scale or Third Position" on page 12.
Part of the struggle is the addition of the pick. I have been finger-strumming up until this point, but as the pick is so prevalent these days, I'm going to have to learn it sometime. The book recommends picking these scales, and I am. But, yikes! That little piece of plastic is slowing me all the way down. I assume it will take me two or three hours to finally master page 12. With 152 pages to go, I will probably be at this book for a long time—if not for the rest of my life. Yikes!
A note for my fellow publishing types: Sternal's self-published book (2008, revised edition) is in pretty good shape, all things considered. There are relatively few typos, which for a presumably amateur publishing effort is quite impressive. But there is one quirk that makes me laugh every time. The manual will cruise along for pages in Times New Roman then—bam!—you're in Arial. If I were to give Sternal the benefit of the doubt, I would guess this was to separate the revised content from the original content. But I think it's probably just an oversight. Also, there is something a little bit hilarious about the author pic at the end of this book of scales—Sternal appears to be all hair and tank top. My husband confesses that he nearly passed on the book because of the picture, but caved due to rave reviews online.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Thumbs Up for This Waltz
Songs I am butchering this week:
I am a sucker for romantic comedies. I don't like to think about the number of hours I've spent watching mediocre films in this category when I wasn't even on an airplane, nor do I care to admit how much I've enjoyed them. Let's just say that when I find one that's actually a good film, I feel more than satisfied—I feel vindicated.
Before Sunrise (1995) and Before Sunset (2004) are two of my favorites. They probably don't belong in the "comedy" category of romance films because the humor is subtle, but it's my blog, and I'm calling them that anyway. These films are thoughtful and funny and even talkier than a Woody Allen flick—in a word, lovely.
The premise of the first film is this: An American boy (Ethan Hawke) meets a French girl (Julie Delpy) on a train, and they end up walking around Vienna all night until they have to take their separate trains home. Mostly, they talk—and it's fabulous. I don't know what magic potion Richard Linklater and Kim Krazan used when writing the script, but somehow, they created two teenagers who are not only lost and confused like the cliche demands—but they are also intelligent, interesting, and funny.
In one night, these two characters tackle every topic under the sun: religion, politics, feminism, sex, hopes, dreams, you name it. By morning, these characters find a deep connection—and the audience can't help but connect with them, too. The sequel, which is as wonderful as the first film, explores what happens to these characters ten years later, and the rumor is that there will be another film every ten years—sort of like the "Seven Up" documentary series—which I would love to see.
One of my favorite scenes in Before Sunset is when Delpy plays a waltz that she wrote for the acoustic guitar. So, last week, I sought it out on YouTube. Some kind soul has also put the tabs for the song on the Internet, but seeing Delpy play it again taught me something brand new about guitar playing. To play "A Waltz for a Night," Delpy hooks her thumb over the fretboard to hold down the low E string. This gives the waltz its bass line. I know I've seen other players do this, but I didn't really understand what they were doing—I thought they were just resting their thumbs on the guitar neck!
Anyway, I practiced it and practiced it, and now I am ridiculously addicted to playing this song with its one-two-three, one-two-rest rhythm. Of course, I still struggle with a key part of the song which involves four rapid chord changes, and so I focus on playing the oom-pah-pah part ad infinitum instead. For some reason, no one in the family has run out of the room screaming yet. Perhaps it was because I was playing it on Mother's Day?
Not only do I like the weird fingering, I also love the imperfect, candid lyrics (for example: "It was for you just a one night thing / But you were much more to me / Just so you know"). Of course, the subject matter is a one-night stand, which makes me wonder how exactly this fits with my goal to further our son's musical education. As I was singing the telling line: "One night with you little Jesse / Is worth a thousand with anybody" last night, I couldn't help wondering if I shouldn't be working on a thumb-hookable arrangement of "Old MacDonald" instead!
- "A Waltz for a Night" by Julie Delpy
- "And Your Bird Can Sing" by the Beatles
- "You've Got Her in Your Pocket" by the White Stripes
I am a sucker for romantic comedies. I don't like to think about the number of hours I've spent watching mediocre films in this category when I wasn't even on an airplane, nor do I care to admit how much I've enjoyed them. Let's just say that when I find one that's actually a good film, I feel more than satisfied—I feel vindicated.
Before Sunrise (1995) and Before Sunset (2004) are two of my favorites. They probably don't belong in the "comedy" category of romance films because the humor is subtle, but it's my blog, and I'm calling them that anyway. These films are thoughtful and funny and even talkier than a Woody Allen flick—in a word, lovely.
The premise of the first film is this: An American boy (Ethan Hawke) meets a French girl (Julie Delpy) on a train, and they end up walking around Vienna all night until they have to take their separate trains home. Mostly, they talk—and it's fabulous. I don't know what magic potion Richard Linklater and Kim Krazan used when writing the script, but somehow, they created two teenagers who are not only lost and confused like the cliche demands—but they are also intelligent, interesting, and funny.
In one night, these two characters tackle every topic under the sun: religion, politics, feminism, sex, hopes, dreams, you name it. By morning, these characters find a deep connection—and the audience can't help but connect with them, too. The sequel, which is as wonderful as the first film, explores what happens to these characters ten years later, and the rumor is that there will be another film every ten years—sort of like the "Seven Up" documentary series—which I would love to see.
One of my favorite scenes in Before Sunset is when Delpy plays a waltz that she wrote for the acoustic guitar. So, last week, I sought it out on YouTube. Some kind soul has also put the tabs for the song on the Internet, but seeing Delpy play it again taught me something brand new about guitar playing. To play "A Waltz for a Night," Delpy hooks her thumb over the fretboard to hold down the low E string. This gives the waltz its bass line. I know I've seen other players do this, but I didn't really understand what they were doing—I thought they were just resting their thumbs on the guitar neck!
Anyway, I practiced it and practiced it, and now I am ridiculously addicted to playing this song with its one-two-three, one-two-rest rhythm. Of course, I still struggle with a key part of the song which involves four rapid chord changes, and so I focus on playing the oom-pah-pah part ad infinitum instead. For some reason, no one in the family has run out of the room screaming yet. Perhaps it was because I was playing it on Mother's Day?
Not only do I like the weird fingering, I also love the imperfect, candid lyrics (for example: "It was for you just a one night thing / But you were much more to me / Just so you know"). Of course, the subject matter is a one-night stand, which makes me wonder how exactly this fits with my goal to further our son's musical education. As I was singing the telling line: "One night with you little Jesse / Is worth a thousand with anybody" last night, I couldn't help wondering if I shouldn't be working on a thumb-hookable arrangement of "Old MacDonald" instead!
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Pulling Strings
Confession: I restrung the guitar about 10 days ago and was too afraid to play it for a week! Seriously, I couldn't even look at the case without imagining something horrible happening in there, like the guitar neck snapping in two from the tension, strings sproinging out every which way, or bridge pins shooting into my face. At night, I dreamed of the attack of the Killer Guitar with its sharp, stringy teeth.
Finally, my itchy fingers got the better of me. I unsnapped the case, cautiously lifted the lid an inch, flinched, and finally pushed it all the way open. All six strings were intact, and the guitar looked good as new. Phew! After tuning it and tuning it and tuning it some more, I can say we are friends again. I also like the new strings, which are thicker and—forgive my lack of proper jargon here—louder than the factory strings. Now, I just wish I could play something besides block chords.
The restringing process itself was rather educational. Things you should not do:
Finally, my itchy fingers got the better of me. I unsnapped the case, cautiously lifted the lid an inch, flinched, and finally pushed it all the way open. All six strings were intact, and the guitar looked good as new. Phew! After tuning it and tuning it and tuning it some more, I can say we are friends again. I also like the new strings, which are thicker and—forgive my lack of proper jargon here—louder than the factory strings. Now, I just wish I could play something besides block chords.
The restringing process itself was rather educational. Things you should not do:
- Pop your bridge pin into your sound hole. If this happens, I recommend skipping the suicidal thoughts and going straight for a pencil with a piece of Scotch tape attached to the eraser. If you're good at those tilt games with ball bearings, so much the better. Roll that pin into position and lower your rescue pencil. (NOTE: If you accidentally fling the pin outside of your guitar, you will probably need a bigger pencil.)
- Slice open your hand on a new string like a sissy. Those things are sharp—cat-claw sharp. Just don't do it. No one wants to see you bleed all over your guitar, unless maybe you're Jack White. But you're not. At least, I'm not.
- Get all cocky when you finally get the strings on the guitar, like, two hours later. You know that big dog cage at the foot of your bed? Still there. So, don't start walking around holding your guitar aloft like it's the frickin' Ark of the Covenant until you've checked the foot path between you and your case. You may not use your toes to play the guitar like this guy, but you still need them to walk your guitar to its case, now don't you?
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