Learning Songs, One Chord at a Time

Playing the piano is still going well since I last wrote about it. It’s been a little over a month of practicing and the time has sure flown by! I’m still very much a beginner, but I feel I’ve made a lot of progress over the past month, thanks in large part to already knowing how to read music.

The most frustrating part so far has been learning to improvise and play along with some of my CDs. I can hear what’s happening with the music and what would come next, but my fingers can’t keep up with my brain. But sometimes, I catch a nice groove for a measure or two and I get in the pocket. It’s only a split second, but the more I practice, the more I find myself in that zone. I’ve got a long way to go before I can keep it up for a full song, but it’s one of the main motivations that keeps me practicing.

Over the past month, Bill Withers’ Lean on Me has been a big staple in my piano repertoire. I’m grateful someone made a version that’s easy for beginners to play, and it’s a joy to play it every time. I mean, how can you not love a song that’s a reminder of how we can all be shoulders to cry on?

Outside of music, writing has been pretty stagnant for me. Life has been quite busy so I haven’t had much time for writing when piano is higher up on my list.

Despite life getting in the way, I still managed to write something at my monthly writing club.

I wasn’t sure what was going to come out, but I can’t say that I’m surprised that it ended up being about piano. It’s all about the people I look up to, many of whom aren’t alive anymore but still inspire me despite that. I hope you enjoy.

(PS: I listed some music from the artists below the writing if you want to listen to them while you read. They are all titans of jazz and you can’t go wrong with listening to any of them. Also, Herbie Hancock is STILL alive at 85 and I just saw him in Milwaukee; I highly recommend you see him while you still can!)

When I sit at my piano, I sometimes can’t help but stare at it in awe, thinking of how a couple black and white keys can make such beautiful sounds. How a few notes and chords can come together to tell of the deepest wonder, joys, and sorrows of the human experience.

I think of my musical role models.

Thelonious Monk’s erratic yet somehow elegantly graceful plunking.
Herbie Hancock’s journey from traditional jazz to the funky headhunters and beyond, pushing jazz and funk to their very limits.
And Bill Evans, the acoustic piano purist, pouring his heart and soul into each and every note he played.

I hear how they fit in with some of the other greats, like Miles Davis’ Trumpet played In A Silent Way and John Coltrane’s sax making Giant Steps for jazz.

I think of how much practice they must have gone through. Hours upon days upon decades of practicing scales, repertoire, and improvisations. A lifetime of studying music theory and learning all the rules so they can break them and mold them as they see fit.

When I sit at my piano, all these things flash through my mind as I practice. As I plunk through exercises, I think of my hopes to play at even a fraction of their level. But I also think of why I started playing in the first place:
Because it’s fun.

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