I can hear it when it’s a fake organ, or a fake wurlitzer or Rhodes or whatever. It’s not the same thing. I can hear the non-Hammond percussion tone generator by Trek in my Hammond C2 and I can tell it’s not the same as a classic B3 hammond designed and installed percussion generator. I wish it was. It’s subtle and it bothers me. It’s passable and most people think it sounds really good. But I can hear the difference.It detracts from my enjoyment of playing the instrument.
I’ve been overtly critical of recordings with bad organ sounds. It’s hard not to, they just sound really bad. I’m kind of a nut when it comes to really listening to something. That’s how you learn to become a better musician and it even seems a better human. You really listen.
I can hear the piano sample fart out in most keyboards while I’m playing. And sometimes I can’t hear the notes at all like in the mid to high octave of the Yamaha piano sample on my Nord Stage 88 a keyboard that I’ve owned for about five years. “Where does the note go?” I often think while I’m playing it. I’ve got a good line and the note disappears in the fray of sound around me. It doesn’t cut through and it takes me out of the moment of creating because I can’t hear myself and it’s made me think of something other than the music I’m making.
Over the last week I was able to play two really fine Steinway pianos at both Cliff Bell’s and at the Dirty Dog Jazz Cafe. As a keyboard player most of the time I soldier away at my role in the music business war on either my Nord Stage 88 or Yamaha Motif ES7. I play emulation of keyboards I own like the Fender Rhodes, Wurlitzer, Hammond, Piano, etc. and some basic meat and potato synth stuff. But I rarely get to play a fine piano. I’m fortunate enough to have an early 20th Century Chickering to practice on at home and it’s decent but it ain’t a Steinway. It made a huge difference in my performance and enjoyment. I can hear the difference. I just with I could afford the difference.
I can hear it when a guys been practicing a lot. I dare say I can hear it when a guy’s been practicing too much and I can hear it when they ain’t been playing at all. There’s a time to step away from the instrument and have some life experience’s too. Maintain and develop your chops but don’t close yourself off to non-musical human contact and relationships. Go ride a bike or take a walk once in awhile. Read a book. Hug somebody. Listen to what someone else has to say for a moment. Especially someone older and more experienced. Time and time again it seems that the people who I really enjoy listening to are also very genuine, diversely educated, warm and engaging and this often comes through in their music and even beyond that in their personal presence. You could say I enjoy those who have cultivated their human side and allow it to permeate their music.
I dread being in the audience or worse onstage and witnessing a musician continuously display chops (scales, patterns, licks, etc.) and very little in the way of emotion, development, interaction, timing, restraint, and space in chorus after chorus on every tune. They showboat forever never noticing that they’ve lost the audience and perhaps their fellow musician’s with their extended trip to solo heaven. Get in get out and get on with it.
The best improvisers, performers and entertainers are those who actually take the music somewhere and thereby bring the band and the audience with them.
That’s what I believe we need to be striving for as musicians and performers. Engaging the music, your band members, the audience, and the space you’re in at the moment. Can you hear the difference? Have you listened?
….and on that note I’ll be discussing the merit’s of taping oneself in an upcoming post.