Part Three

E: Mistekas

Ever make a mistake?

Of course you have.

As much as we hate making mistakes, we need to likewise be thankful for them because they are oftentimes windows and opportunities. I can't tell you how many times I have made errors and mistakes, not just in music, that turned out to put me on a train of thought or musical idea I would not have considered beforehand.

Sometimes we call it serendipity, that happy accident or happenstance that brought us to this wonderful place of fresh thought.

But mistakes also help us understand there are still things we need to learn. They sharpen our focus in the moment, requiring we pay attention or more mistakes will follow. As much as we do not like them, they serve a very important purpose in our growth as people, our growth in our chosen discipline or craft. Without them we would not learn because it is only through mistakes that we actually maintain the practice of continuing education - no matter what it is we do.

I can't tell you how many times I've been tracking a part in the studio, only to have the whole take virtually 'in the bag' and on the last measure or two make a mistake that requires I track the whole part all over again. I have to note here: I use an organic approach to tracking instruments. I am performance oriented, which means no overdubs, punch ins or 'fixing' a take. If it isn't right, it gets redone. My basic philosophy is that if you can't perform your part at least once without noticable errors, you shouldn't be recording it in the first place.

And even then, sometimes mistakes can be left alone, so to speak. What I mean is that when tracking an instrument, depending upon the mistake made (should one occur), if it is not particularly noticable, if the overall take of the recording has that quality and feel you want, sometimes you just let those quiet little errors remain. We cannot always get a 'perfect' take. Sometimes that perfect take is so lifeless and devoid of emotional content that it is unusable, sounding awful and sterile and sticks out like a sore thumb. You can't keep that kind of take. It must be done over. And if a great track contains an error or two, as long as they do not draw attention to themselves, as a producer, I may vote to keep the track...for now.

When you are recording multiple instruments at the same time, the performance rules most every time. Except errors are noticable and draw attention to themselves, if the track is otherwise great and expresses all the energy and feeling you require, you may want to consider keeping it.

This is one of the nice things about digital, computer based recording. You can add tracks endlessly (some systems only allow 128 - far more than you would ever generally require). Made a great pass, but aren't sure it's the best you can do? Lay another track down, keeping this one. And if you don't mind the punch in or overdub, you can always 'fix' the part in question...or leave it alone for that truly organic performance 'feel'.

In live performances, you don't get a 'do over'. No second 'take'.

Live performance is like the forge of music. You are put into the fire and tempered - but not all at once. Just like anything else, it takes time to learn to operate in a live environment. Your tempering is done one performance at a time over the course of years. Yes, years. No one enters the arena of live performance and plays flawlessly from the gate.

No matter how prepared you are, how well you know the music, you are going to make a mistake. It will stick out like a red flag with a blinking neon sign to draw attention to it. And you will wither and die a little inside, embarassed and humbled for the experience.

I've witness the best of the best musicians make errors. Many of these errors are so subtle and beneath notice that only someone familiar with the music will ever actually know. This is part of the grace that abounds in live performances: the average person won't ever actually consciously hear the mistakes if they are small and unobtrusive, if they don't draw attention to themselves.

The secret here is that you have to pretend as though everything is fine. You must show no sign that a mistake has occurred. And this takes practice of the kind that can happen only on stage in front of a live audience. You have to learn not to react in any way, no facial expressions, smirks or other 'tell' that says "Look at that, will you? I just make a huge mistake here I thought you should know about."

Believe it or not, the audience is soaking in, taking in the whole performance, and not focusing on you and you alone. Anyone who plays your instrument may be more focused on you, but generally, the audience is listening to everything. And unless your part sticks out, is louder than everything else, the mistake will pass mostly without notice. This is important to remember.

But it is not an excuse to not deal with the problem, particularly if it is a recurrant issue.

We all hate mistakes. As musicians we spend countless hours and days, weeks, months and years perfecting our craft. We strive for the error free performance, the guilt free knowledge that we turn in a great performance every time with minimal mistakes, if any at all. This is why I say it takes years to learn how to play with minimal errors. It is as much a discipline as playing warm up scales and exercises, as anything you want to do more than just 'well enough'.

If I were to give any counsel on dealing with mistakes, it would have to be that you need to go easy on yourself. Really. It does no good to beat yourself up if you are having problems making mistakes.

Oftentimes mistakes are an indicator that our technique is sloppy or just bad; a sign we are being lazy about dealing with these issues. So we have to make our practice time about actual practice, not just running through things. And band rehearsal is not the place to do this.

Personal, private practice time is essential for any musician who wishes to acquire professional grade skills. If you watch someone like Eric Johnson, or Stu Hamm, and your jaw drops to the floor, you have to understand why they are so good. There is only one primary reason: their practice time is spent not just playing through things, but working out how to best play the things they want to perform, taking the time required (not that they are willing to devote to it) to master the given technique or passage (oftentimes both!). It's time consuming, sometimes frustrating and always rewarding if you don't short change yourself, take shortcuts and try to derail or change the process in a way that takes away from the whole point of practice.

I know many players who hate to practice, so they find every excuse not to. I know players who hate to practice - but do it anyway because they know the reason it is important - I'm one of these. They want to be great players. They have a goal and know that it is only through doing the hard work, sacrificing that hour in the sun, hanging out with friends, whatever would keep them from that goal, that they will achieve the results they strive for.

Oh, and just one more thing. Don't get the idea that you are indispensible. Nobody is that valuable - even if you're the main song writer (and presumably a good one).

There are a whole host of people out there striving to be the best musicians they can be. They're hungry, they're motivated, determined to succeed and looking for work. And one day, they may be looking at your job because you aren't cutting it and your mates are wondering if it might be time to find someone who is as serious as they are about being true professionals in the field.

And, quite frankly, if you don't understand this, then it may well be possible that it is a mistake you are in this business in the first place.


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