Taking That First Step

The first step in making your dream a reality is to take that "first step."

It sounds obvious and it is.  The saying "once begun, half done" applies to some degree.  But for the sake of this post I'm going to define the "First Step" as the first BIG step.  That step that if not taken your dream would only remain a dream.

In my case it was moving from Indianapolis to Los Angeles to become a session musician.  I would be moving away from the safety of the home I grew up in and the security of the abundant work I had as a musician already.

At the time I left Indy, I had about 40 students (20 hours a week) and gig playing in a top-40 band on the weekends.  Not to mention I was beginning to get a lot of calls to play with other groups in the area.  I should have been satisfied but I wasn't.  There was this dream.  The dream to rub elbows with Tommy Tedesco, Steve Lukather, Lee Ritenour, Jeff Porcaro and all the other LA musicians that populated the credits of all the albums I bought.  I bought some pretty awful records just because one of my favorite SoCal guitarists were listed in the linear notes.  Many of these players also played in movies and on TV shows.

I was 15 when I decided that I wanted to be a Los Angeles session musician.  A quite random and yet specific desire.  Much of my daily rituals were focused on these goal.  I developed a varied and rigorous practice regimen of up to 8 hours a day. This was a step, but not the First Step.  Predictably my grades suffered.  Except in the music classes that my very arts progressive high school offered.

I graduated high school early, missing out on a lot of the senior year fun, so that I could concentrate on my goal.  Thinking I was done with school I set out to become somewhat self sufficient.  This wasn't happening at this point so I enrolled last minute at Butler University.  I majored in…. yes, music.  This was same year that I started teaching at Phelan's Music in Carmel and started playing with Malachi, that top-40 band.  Both of those jobs grew me as a musician (part of the plan) but made it difficult to continue my college education.  So in order to save my mom some money and spend more time practicing I quit Butler after the first year and concentrated on moving to California.

That step was harder than I thought.  It was becoming clear that this would be the First Step.  It was quite daunting.  I didn't have the courage.  I kept delaying it 6 months.  "I'll go after my birthday in July."  "I'll go after Christmas in December."  Hmmm, I guess I was expecting some cool gifts.  I turned 19.  I turned 20.  21 was fast approaching.  Would I ever leave?  I'd never been West of Illinois, let alone all the way to the Pacific Ocean.  No doubt my friends and family doubted I would ever summon the courage to leave the Mid West.  I was wondering this myself.

Then I had an epiphany.  As my 21st birthday approached I thought I'd take a smaller step first.  After turning 21 I would fly to LA and check it out for a week.  If I didn't like it I would stay put.  It was kind of an out.  An excuse.  The month after turning 21 I flew to Vegas (it was cheaper), rented a car and drove to Riverside to stay with friends of friends.  Every day for a week I drove to LA.  To the guitar stores on Hollywood Blvd., and to clubs to hopefully see musicians I "idolized" from afar, and generally just drive around and soak up all things "LA".

I went to the famous Baked Potato.  I went to a place called Dantes to see Russell Ferrante, who's group The Yellowjackets I loved.  Russell spoke with me for an hour afterwards.  He encouraged me to  pursue my dreams.  I went a club called At My Place in Santa Monica and saw saxophonist Richard Elliot.  His guitarist, Carl Verheyen, blew me away.  I met him afterwards and set up a lesson while I was in town.  He gave me some great tips.  I saw Koinonia at The Flying Jib.  Saw some inspiring music the whole week I was in Los Angeles.  It was an exhausting and humbling week.  I flew home.

I did it.  I went to LA.  I could say "it wasn't for me."  I could stay put and continue my career path in the Hoosier state.

But I couldn't.  I loved LA.  I couldn't see myself anywhere else.  That "little" first step gave me the courage to take that big First Step.  It was now a forgone conclusion.  Less than six months later I was living in Pasadena, where I still live.  Yes it was difficult to pack all my earthly possessions in my Gran Prix and drive 2000 miles to a place where I knew not one soul. But I no longer had a choice.  It was destiny.

That was my First Step.  I've never had to make another so difficult since.  A career is generally a series of small decisions, some with little consequence and some with great consequence.  But none of it starts without that first step.  Looking back I see lots of first steps.  From moving to LA, to visiting LA, even something as simple as getting up everyday and putting in the work to grow as a musician.

What was or will be that step for you?

Get That Gear - Part Two: Make A List

Back when I first moved to LA I was way under-geared. I had spent the previous three years saving money for the move. Money I might need to live on if I couldn't get work. Money that wasn't spent on a bunch of guitars and amps and pedals. The gear I owned for the move fit easily in the back of my Pontiac Gran Prix and the 2000 mile drive to the West coast. It was as follows...

An early-70's Ibanez 175 copy (lawsuit model)
A 1979 Ibanez Artist 335 electric
A 1981 G&L F1001
A Yamaha Classical
An Acoustic 165 amp
And some misc. pedals

This was all I brought to compete with Larry Carlton, Lee Ritenour, Steve Lukather, Carl Verheyen, and so many others. What was I thinking? Seriously.

I had used up all my guts and courage to move to LA, and had none left to take chances with savings or credit cards, so that list didn't change much for a long time. Disposable income didn't come easily those first few years and my savings was slowly dwindling.

Once I got married and my wife (God bless her) got a real job, I started to make wish lists. My income from students and gigs and occasional sessions began to grow slowly, and gear purchases were the easiest way to write off some of that income.

I made pretty extensive lists. Dreaming big but with some practicality thrown in for good measure. There were a lot of things on the lists that I didn't get and that's not a bad thing. But I printed up the lists and kept them in a drawer and every now and then would go back a look at lists from five or ten years prior and be amazed at how much from these lists had been acquired. And how much I didn't get and was extremely glad.

There's something about making lists, whether you are checking them often or not, that tend to be self fulfilling prophesy. Call it "visualization" if you like. If you haven't done this I suggest you start one right now.

You can use sites like Amazon or Musician's Friend to create wish lists. But better to just create a doc, date it and print it. You can make one list or separate it out into sub-lists, "pedals", "guitars", "amps". It can be specific like... "Lowden F25" or more general like... "good finger style guitar." Like.. "Carl Martin Fuzz" or like... "fuzz pedal"

Text or e-mail yourself ideas when at guitar stores or at shows of things you liked and add them to your list. Maybe put some context... "Fender Tele Baritone, saw at the Burned Out Monkeys show"

Lowden F25
Carl Martin Fuzz Pedal
Fender Tele Baritone

10 Solos...

... that made me want to quit playing guitar. (But then ultimately inspired me)
As I was progressing on the guitar through junior and senior high school and later in college, there were often times of great triumph, times of leaps and bounds and inspired moments of musical ability that gave me hope of all I could do. And then there were the times of great tragedy, (ie: band breakups), times of plateaus and inspired moments of someone else's musical ability that made me ask myself, "will I ever get there?". But those times didn't kill me (or make me quit playing guitar) they just made me stronger. Stronger as I resolved to figure out those solos, study those guitarists, continue taking guitar lessons and learn more about music. 

Now keep in mind in the list below I avoided classic solos, like the solos from Jimi Hendrix, Jimmy Page, Eric Clapton, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Steve Vai and other generally accepted "gods" of the guitar. The ones below are solos that blew me away and made me cry and made me call out for my mommy. OK, I know, TMI. These are mostly from the late 70's and early 80's which were very formative years for me. I'm sure you would create a very different list. Feel free to post yours in the comments.

In no particular order...

1. My "need for speed" came directly from one guitarist who came up in the 1970's, Al DiMeola. Discovered at Berklee School of Music by Chick Corea, he played with Chick's band Return to Forever for a couple of records and then on to a solo career. The album that reprioritized my studies in the guitar was Elegant Gypsy, and particularly the song "Race with the Devil on a Spanish Highway". Al favors minor keys, phrygian, locrian, melodic and harmonic minor scales that are a new challange for the fingers.
Elegant Gypsy
Race With Devil On Spanish Highway

2. George Benson's Breezin' album was clearly a watershed record for me. However two albums later he released a live recording, Weekend In LA, which featured a song, "Ode to a Kudu", the outro of which made me seek counseling. I'm kidding. However the fluidity with which he plays is astounding. Especially considering he is playing clean, not with massive amounts of distortion, which is more exposed, and thus more difficult.
Weekend in L.A.
Ode To A Kudu (Live Album Version)
3. A sometime Los Angeles studio guitarist but more often sideman Robben Ford bleeds LA cool on his solo on the song "Imperial Strut" from the self-titled first Yellowjackets album, a band he wasn't credited as being a member of and yet he's all over their first two releases. Just learning the tune's melody is a serious challange. Now he fronts his own blues band and has released some serious records of his own.

Yellowjackets
Imperial Strut (Album Version)

4. All of these guitarists inspired me greatly, but Larry Carlton was one of the guitarists who led me to decide to move to Los Angeles to become a studio guitarist. I envisioned myself in the studio working for Quincy Jones or Steely Dan laying down solos that guitarists all over the world would later be trying to learn themselves. This hasn't really happened, so much for me being a prophet. Larry's solo on "Kid Charlamange" off the Steely Dan's Royal Scam CD is a standard must know. The way he weaves triad substitutions over the chord progression is pure genius. Probably one of his best solo's ever!
The Royal Scam
Kid Charlemagne

5. A remake of the song "Strawberry Letter 23" from the album Right on Time by The Brothers Johnson, two brothers who did a lot of studio work themselves, was a hit during the disco craze of the 70's. The syrupy groove alone makes this a tune to listen to, but LA session regular Lee Ritenour's take on Shuggie Otis' original solo is an otherworldly, echo/phaser-laden, triplet-16th note escapade that jumps out of the tune an into outer space. An excellent example of how effects can help make an "effective" solo. Lee's rhythm percolations are too coo as well.
Right on Time
Strawberry Letter 23

6. Jay Graydon was another session ace that influenced me. He did the classic solo on "Peg" from Steely Dan's Aja. Rumor has it that the duo of Fagen/Becker had already had most of LA's and New York's session aces in for a shot at "improvisational immortalization" When Jay, who they knew little of, walked in, sat down and played that gem on the first pass! Eventually he got involved in producing in the 80's and is best known for giving Manhattan Transfer and Al Jarreau their hit records. It's from one of those records that one of the most jaw-dropping solos I'd ever heard was recorded. On the song "Twilight Tone" from the Manhattan Transfer's Extensions album is a tribute to the 50's/60's television show Twilight Zone, he composes an astounding triple-tracked guitar solo that combines more than the stock stacked thirds Eventide Harmonizer type harmonies. He uses unisons, seconds, thirds, fourths and fifths, to bring the song from a subdued instrumental bridge back into it's percolating chorus.
Extensions
Twilight Zone/Twilight Tone

7. The 80's saw a changing of the guard in the LA studio scene. While Larry Carlton and Lee Ritenour pursued solo careers, Steve Lukather (of Toto fame) became the go to guy. I bought some of the crappiest albums simply because Steve's name was on the credits. I transcribed and learned dozens of his solo's with Earth, Wind and Fire, Boz Scaggs, Olivia Newton-John (remember "Let's Get Physical"?), Quincy Jones and others. When I transcribed his solos I would often write "The Chaotic Stylings of Steve Lukather" at the top of the page, as if I was doing a dissertation. "Chaotic" was the best way to describe his style, especially for me as I was approaching his solos from a more traditional jazz/classical background. The solo that seems to epitomize his style the most was the modest hit by The Tubes "Talk to You Later". Many of the solo's lines are on played vertically up the neck, using only one or two strings at a time. At times you swear he's falling off a cliff! I talked to him about this solo at the NAMM show one year. He said it was the first pass but he wanted to do it again because the last note is out of tune. But they wouldn't let him. His advice to me? The same advice Carlton had given him, "Don't think, play."
Best of
Talk To Ya Later

8. I almost gave my life to the smokey Holiday Inn circuit because of one guitarist, Joe Pass. His album rightfully called Virtuoso features him and only him playing live. I thought "this is perfect, no more band squabbles", assuming I didn't become schizophrenic. His solo arrangement of the standard "Night and Day", well, let's see, I'm running out of superlatives here. Oh well, let's face it, it rocks! 
Virtuoso
Night And Day

9. Albert Lee's record Hiding featured a song that later Ricky Scaggs had a hit with called "Country Boy". With the aid of an echo unit he creates a sell-all-your-gear- and-go-back-to-college solo. Eventually I nailed it out (in my 30's I think). I even had the audacity to play it for him a the NAMM show a few years ago to see if I had it right. There wa no amp handy so he had me play his guitar and he put the headstock to his temple to hear it. I was so nervous and didn't want waste his time so I played it about 20 ticks too fast. He smiled at me said, "I think you've got it."
Hiding/Albert Lee

10. I was working in a record store in Indy called aptly, The Record Company, when Christopher Cross' self titled record hit the shelves. Since I was planning on moving to LA to become the next Larry Carlton or Jay Graydon, it caught my eye since Larry and Jay both had two solos each on it. Before I'd heard even one tune on the radio I had it home and spinning. Nice solos by Larry and Jay, and Chris himself even did a respectable job on "Ride Like the Wind". However the solo that really caught my ear was the recording debut of some kid named Eric Johnson on "Minstrel Gigolo". His smooth style is unmistakable even as a kid. Didn't hear from him again for almost 10 years!
Christopher Cross
Minstrel Gigolo