My son started playing bass and guitar about a year and a half ago.
He’s already pretty good.
But like with many 14-year-old boys, the Dunning-Kruger effect is in full force. The other day he told me, “Hey, I’m already almost as good as you are.”
I’ve been playing for close to 30 years. I told him, “Well, I’m not sure I agree with that.”
I’d like you to understand something at this point: I’m not being egotistical. I’m not trying to keep him under my thumb either. And believe me, by the time he graduates high school, I do expect him to be better than I am. But today is not that day.
This interchange got me thinking — what does it actually mean to be “good” at playing the guitar?
Tabs and Rote Memorization
My son is really into metal. (I am really not.) He saved up enough money to buy a seven-string guitar, and he spends much of his free time chugging away on the thing. But because he is just learning, everything he does is based on practicing his favorite songs with tablature. It’s rote memorization: I fret the sixth string on the fifth fret here. I do a palm mute there.
I’m not knocking this by any means. Heck, I use tabs to learn songs all the time. It’s way easier than using my ears like I used to do. But it ignores much of the bigger picture when it comes to music.
In other words, if being “good” is the ability to memorize and play metal riffs, then sure, my son is better than I am. But, of course, that’s not the entire equation, is it?
From Tabs to Playing by Ear
Playing by ear was my bread and butter for a long time. For some reason, I eschewed tabs as “lesser” and learned songs the old-fashioned way. (I’ve since repented of the error of my ways.)
And so when my son and I play together, I often have to help him with what chords are being played, where the changes are, and so on. My ear is simply more developed than his. But does this make me a better musician?
A friend of mine used to be Joe Bonamassa’s production manager (yes, for real!). He could dial in a soundboard like you would not believe — his ear was incredible. And yet he couldn’t sing or play a note of music. He had the ear, but zero talent.
So clearly there must be more.
From Playing by Ear to Listening
I play a lot of music by myself at home. For me, playing guitar is as much for stress relief as anything else, so I don’t mind just doing my thing.
But let’s be honest — there’s so much more to making music when you’re jamming with other people.
And that is not the same as playing in your living room or bedroom.
I’ve been doing this for years as part of worship teams at church, and I’ve found the most important skill you can possess is listening. Does my part match what the other instruments are doing? Am I overshadowing the vocals right now? Am I still on tempo? Am I at the right intensity levels throughout the song?
It’s this kind of musical participation that I think starts to separate the wheat from the chaff. You might be able to play Eruption flawlessly, but if you don’t know how to lay down a part that fits the song, can you really be called a “good” player? Maybe.
Or maybe there’s one more level to this whole thing.
From Listening to Playing the Right Thing
Since we’re getting into the cold and rainy season where I live, I’m back to running on the treadmill rather than going outside. And in the last few treadmill sessions, I watched a recent Austin City Limits episode featuring Lyle Lovett and His Large Band.
Of course, being Lyle Lovett, he had stacked the stage with a dozen of the best musicians you will ever see, and what struck me most was how in control everyone was. No one was playing blazing riffs or shredding massive solos — although I’m sure every one of them could.
Instead, most of the parts were simple — you and I could easily play them. (Of course, they played them perfectly.) But they were the right parts for the songs.
I’m beginning to think that this may be the best definition of a “good” guitarist I’ve come across: someone who can serve the song. Someone who, instead of asking, what am I capable of playing here? asks, what does the song need here?
And if this is the definition, well, both my son and I have a long way to go.
In fact, I feel like I’m just beginning to approach music this way, 30 years in. It requires a certain humility and letting go of the need to be at the center of attention. It’s no longer about showing off or using whatever technical skill you might have; it’s about making the song the best it can be.
Does Being “Good” Even Matter?
So in the end, what does it mean to be “good” at guitar? In one sense, I don’t think it matters. Good is a comparative term, and music isn’t a competition. If you are enjoying yourself and working at getting better over time, then I’d say you’re a “good” guitarist!
From another angle, “good” can mean a lot of things. It could mean having the technical ability to play a riff. It could mean the ability to figure out a tune by ear. One could also say that anyone who can fit into the mix of a band or listen well while playing is a “good” player.
But I am coming to realize the best players do all of this and more — they play the right thing at the right time. And often, the right thing is not the technically difficult thing. It could be as simple as a single note, but that note is played to perfection.
So what do you think? What makes a guitar player “good”? Let us know in the comments.
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