Changes and Clarity

Hello Troubadourians! Its Rocktober and I’m back… I missed you in September. I hope you missed me, too. I was recovering from some “maintenance” work that I had done. During my recovery, several friends and family asked if I felt different. Yeah, I do. Some even said that I looked different. I’m not too sure about that… But it got me thinking about change and what it really means. My August column titled “Reinvention” was about change wherein I explored changes to my playing, my body, and my persona. While recovering, I’ve had a lot of time (maybe too much) to think about how all of that has affected me, both intentionally and unintentionally. Choosing to make a change will have effects—or consequences—beyond those that were expected. I’d never really thought much about that idea before, but finding myself with nothing to do other that contemplate how having my hip replaced was going to change my life (and when I could take my next dose of pain meds), I decided to explore my relationship with change and what it means.

Change is inevitable. How we choose to accept and acknowledge our relationship to change is all we can control. Entropy is relentless but we are capable of adapting and countering its effects. Our bodies age and no matter how well we take care of ourselves, things will happen. Sometimes our actions are the cause, sometimes it is the cumulative effects of a chosen career path, but often it is simply that we were “born that way.” Arthritis runs in my family. In a carryover of my youthful arrogance I was convinced that I was immune even when it was obvious that my hip was “done.” It only took me 11 years to realize it…
But how does that relate to music and guitar playing? When planning this column, I started by rereading my August column and I realized that I gave the impression that on several occasions I had intentionally discarded how I played the guitar and created a new style out of thin air. That is most definitely not the case. The actuality is more evolution rather than revolution. Over time, and with a firm knowledge of context, my playing does sound different than it did ten years ago, even five years ago—more refined and intentional and more mature to be sure—but not completely unrecognizable. And that is a good thing. Paraphrasing Les Paul, who once said, “You’re really good and all, but can your mother recognize you on the radio?” Sounding like yourself is a good thing, and it requires attention and maintenance. So, yeah, I’ve “rewritten” my playing many times but it is still in my handwriting…

But let’s go a little deeper… There are actually several facets to my playing (and I expect to yours as well), that have different functions and as such require different strategies for remaining relevant, as well as maintaining my membership card to the Sideman Club. There is the basic knowledge of music theory and structure which covers chords, scales, and the like, and includes historical content, genre knowledge, and the ability to dial up the appropriate tone and feel. Next is the ability to pull from experience, the “just right” part for a cover song, borrowing the style of the original player or adapting it in such a way as if the part was played by a different player. Cross pollination can be a good thing. And, finally, building upon and refining the things that are truly my style and what makes my playing unique. Each facet will be added to or edited over time.

Adding to your basic knowledge is a forever activity. At least I think it should be. There are still songs that I’ve listened to for years that continue to reveal new things to me every time I hear them. May that always be so. Discovery must be ongoing, even with the familiar, if we are to remain fresh and interesting. Some things will become dated and are either archived or discarded as necessary so revisiting—or rewriting—our playing is essential to growth and keeping our interest. Boredom is the biggest source of discouragement in my playing.

Other than boredom, when do I know when I need a rewrite? A new environment where I’m playing most often informs me that a change is needed. Every band has an identity regardless of the genre or whether they play original material, covers, or a blend of both. And figuring out what best complements that identity becomes the challenge. I have found that I have to rework—or adapt—one of two things, namely how well I draw from my experience pulling the right part out of my depth of influences or creating that part out of my own individual playing style. If what I had been playing favored covering multiple styles and genres, and now I was expected to create my own parts in my own style on original songs, I’d probably need to practice and refresh my playing as an original artist in my own style. Obviously, the reverse situation requires that I refresh what I might play to complement a cover song. Depending on how long I have been doing one or the other will decide how much work I have to do. I tend to play with the same band for several years so I get into the habit of playing what is required for that band. When a change happens, I often have to go into the rebuilding mode that I’ve often spoken of in these columns. So, it’s not starting over as much as it is a realignment of focus, but that can still be a lot of work to bring the quality of my playing up to the level I expect from myself as it applies to the new situation. Whew! The wild card has always been when I’m called to play on a recording session. My preference is to be as well versed in being myself as I can because that is when I believe I deliver my best, most original performance for the song. I really enjoy those sessions, but sometimes what I’m asked to do is to play a part that is better suited to playing like one or more of my influences. Those sessions can actually be more of a challenge because I have to play something unique and complementary to the song, but in someone else’s style. That’s when I have to remember that, “I’m the Daywalker. I can play anything…,” or so I’ve been told…

Need to know? Just ask… Charlie (ask.charlie@hotmail.com)

Charlie Loach has played guitar in the San Diego music scene for many years, primarily with the power-house original rock band the Wild Truth and the elegant Americana ensemble Folding Mister Lincoln, performing and recording several CDs with both bands. More recently, he has performed with the vocal trio the Outliers. Charlie is an accomplished session player who is well versed in multiple genres of music from bluegrass to rock to country, and his playing is both smooth and tasteful whether on electric or acoustic guitar.