I Quit Music

Boom! Click Bait. Well, Kind of. Read on, friends. Anyone that knows me can vouch that I am a passionate individual. Anything I am into, I am into it with a deep sense of passion. I have been told that my passion is contagious. That is why in recent years when I am asked “how's guitar coming?” Or, “What have you been up to musically?” They were shocked by my response. My response was along the lines, “Nothing. I have no interest in music as of now.” The last two plus years have been a strange time for many of us, however, in my own experience it has been a very confusing time. I walked away from the one thing that gave me a purpose on this planet. The one thing that made sense to me. The one thing that made me tick. Music.

Before I go any further, I have to say, I didn't completely cut music out of my life. I still taught, although I did not seek out new students. I still gigged, however, I did not actively seek gigs. If they came, I would accept them if the money was right. I would still play guitar and write music, but it was either me forcing myself to play or short bouts of inspiration. The drive and the passion were no longer there.The raging fire that once was, was now nothing but a few ash covered warm coals, struggling to continue burning. 

I have always had a deep love for music. As a kid I was surrounded by music. Whether it was my moms love for Classic Rock or the singer songwriters of the 60s and 70s. My fathers deep and corny love for pop tunes. Or my grandparents always listening to Big Band Swing music from their youth that could only be heard on AM Radio. Once I discovered the guitar, Stevie Ray Vaughan and MetallicA, that was all she wrote. From then on, I had dedicated my life to music and the art of guitar. 

I had played in bands for many years. Bands that I dedicated myself to. Bands that meant everything to me. I got to play with some amazing musicians and people. Deep down, I always wanted more, musically. I wanted to learn more about music and guitar, and would attempt to study with local instructors. After a few lessons, the instructor would tell me something along the lines of, “It's time for you to move on.” The student had surpassed the teacher. I had always been hesitant on studying music on a college level. I was fearful I wasn't good enough (I still have that fear). I was also afraid it would take away my raw approach to guitar and music. Instead of just playing what I heard in my head or felt, I was afraid I would overthink everything (which happens often). Alas, after years of failed bands, struggling musically and an ever growing desire to improve my playing and knowledge of music, I enrolled in a local university where I could study Jazz and Classical music, along with theory, arranging, music history, composition, and everything a music junkie could want. 

While studying music in a higher education setting, I got to learn about music all day. I was playing music all day, and all night. I would be at class at 8 am, and leave around 5 pm. Only to go home to practice Piano, Jazz Guitar, Classical Guitar, Jazz Bass, theory homework, and so on. I was in heaven. Everything was guitar oriented. I was hyper focused on becoming the best musician I could be. I got to study under amazing musicians on all aspects of their craft. I got to play with amazing young musicians and my teachers. I was exposed to music I probably never would have discovered on my own. I was uplifted to feel great about myself and my playing. I was also broken down to the point where I hated my playing and myself. Of course, I was not alone in the journey. Just about every musician in every aspect of their playing or career faces that crippling self doubt. Among many other emotions. 

Studying music on a higher education level is extremely difficult. I went into music school  with the mentality of, “I know nothing. I am a blank slate. I am trading in my ‘black belt’ for a white belt.” I was dedicated 110%. I gave it my everything. Sadly when I would play poorly for my lesson, or a performance, I was hard on myself. Not only because I wanted to be the best I could be, I wanted to make my professors proud of me and their teachings. Like most musicians, I also wanted to  impress my colleagues. Sadly, that train of thought can be considered toxic. 

After graduating with my bachelors degree, I went right into Graduate School while I still had the drive and the momentum. Grad school was great. Aside from losing one of my teachers, mentors, and friend, Tad Weed. (That loss still stings). I was playing a lot, often too much. I was teaching not only non-majors and through a community music program, I was also teaching college courses. I was beyond happy with how things were going. Life was great. Playing was great. 

I graduated with my Masters in the fog of covid, May 2020. Everything was still very uncertain at that time. I was, however, optimistic. Shortly after graduation, a position at a local university fell into my lap. A dream gig for someone like me. During that time, I stopped playing as much as I did before or during my time in school. Four hours a day of playing slipped to two hours a day. Two hours a day went to One  hour a day. Eventually, the only time I would play was at a gig or while I was teaching. Occasionally I would realize I have not played guitar in four days and I have a gig tomorrow. I would remind myself that maybe I should run through some exercises to keep my chops up. Or I should read through the music for an upcoming musical. 

I found myself not listening to music, preferring political podcasts. I wouldn't listen to music working out, instead opt to listen to doctors discuss covid and covid policies. Or pundits talking about the future of the economy and hyper inflation. Or the self help gurus of our time, David Goggins, Jordan Peterson, and Andrew Huberman. It had seemed my love and passion for music and the craft of guitar had blown away like a tumbleweed on the set of an abandoned  Spaghetti Western. 

It had gotten to the point where I was putting my guitars away in storage. Hiding them from my sight. I began to resent the instrument, along with resenting music, the time I had dedicated to it, the sacrifices, my time at school, and anything else related to music and guitar. Eventually, I was at the point where I did not touch the guitar for 6 months. Only to teach or play a gig is when I would pick up the guitar. This is coming from a guy that would plan out his week so he could sit at home and play for 8-10 hours a day, just to practice. Music was my purpose in life. I had lost my purpose. 

Never in my life would I have thought that I would begin to resent music. Here we were, over two years after I had graduated with my Masters in Music Performance and I had all but walked away from my purpose. I remember having discussions with Tad (Tad and I talked a lot, especially with my dear friend, Brynne)  about this type of thing before he passed. At that point in his life, Tad was barely playing. That's a very sad statement since Tad was one of the greatest Jazz Pianists to ever grace the earth, one of the greatest teachers to ever hold the title, and one of the kindest individuals I have ever met. In my many conversations about life with Jay, (Jay and I also talked a lot) he had confided in me that he didn't touch the guitar for 3 years. When I recently ran into Norm (Norm and I probably talked too much) and confided in him that I had not been playing, he too told me that he often takes time off from playing, but then it comes back to him. Similar to the old adage, if you love something let it go and if it comes back to you, it was meant to be. 

There were times when I would attempt to force myself to fall back in love with guitar and music. I brought my guitar with me on a camping trip to Montana. I had hoped to spend some time in nature and rekindle my love for music and guitar. My first night camping, I picked up the guitar and all I could think of was throwing it in the fire. Here I was, camping in the Bighorn Mountains alone, 10,000 feet in the mountains, surrounded by nature, bears, wolves, the roar of a glacial river, and a mountain lake so still it looked like a mirror and all I could feel was anger and disdain towards the instrument. A few nights later in Montana, I met up with my friend Sunny, we hiked and camped with her friends. Just over the lake and through the mountains is where the film the television show, “Yellowstone.” It was gorgeous. The topic of me being a musician came up and they had asked me to play. I looked at Sunny and said “please, no.” The conversation was immediately changed. 

For most of my life I was a huge guitar nerd. I still am, once a nerd, always a nerd. I read books about vintage guitar dealers. I would research and talk about guitars ad nauseam. The history of the companies. How to repair them. Basically, anything about guitar, I can tell you about it. It didn’t matter the genre, style of guitar, the player or so on, I can nerd out about it. That was all gone. I stopped all of that research. I even “Unfollowed” some of the guitar pages and musicians I had loved. My social media feed went from guitars, music, bonsai, exercise and outdoorsman topics, to everything mentioned, minus guitar or music. 

There is one thing that has always been constant for me, my love of dogs. I prefer dogs over people. Recently, in October of 2022, I had to put down my best friend, my dog, Elsa. As anyone can imagine, I was heartbroken. Words can not describe how great that dog was. Rewind back to me preparing for my Masters Recital. One of the tunes I was supposed to perform before that recital was canceled due to covid, was a song I had written for her. An instrumental Solo Jazz guitar tune in the style of Django Reihnhardt. I had not finished the song and had placed it on the back burner. After Elsa passed, I picked up my guitar  determined to finish my tribute to my best friend. Every note, everyday after that, the passion had grown. The dying embers were stirred up, kindling placed over the coals, and now, large logs were added to fuel the fire that once burned. So much so that as I write this, I am wrapping up writing a solo guitar album that will be out the year of 2023. Elsa to the rescue once again. What a dog!

I did not write this to garner empathy or sympathy. I did not write this to increase my ESG score. I wrote this for two reasons. One is to get this off my chest. Jordan Peterson says it is good to discuss things of this nature, among many other things. Yes, I have discussed it with those close to me and have listened to them. Their words and input never fell upon deaf ears. The other reason is, I know of others that have been in this situation. Two of my friends and colleagues have gone through a similar situation. Perhaps me venting and discussing it can help them find their way back to their purpose. 

As much as I would love to give all the credit to my late and beloved dog, Elsa, there are others that deserve a shout out. My professors, who always encouraged me. Norm, Jay, Olman, Dr. Jex, Dr. Heritage, Bob Ballinger, and Tad, you guys rule! Adam Miller and Josh Glover for calling me for gigs and reminding me how much fun it is to play music. Caden and Ian for coming to every gig every week. Mama Beard, “Good! A musician of your caliber should be doing that.” Dom and Rostic, for always encouraging me. Brynne, for being my Lil Lisa. Me mum, for always encouraging me. I write this to not only clear my mind, or to “clean my room.” I write this in hopes my passion will once again be contagious and help guide others back to their passion.