Repertoire, Part 3: Create Your Own Arrangements
Published: Wed, 09/23/20
Urgency and art make for odd bedfellows in any case. Back when my friend Dan was touring in Texas and elsewhere, he and his band had an ongoing riff about travel: "Yeah, we're headed to the Mucky Duck this weekend – because Houston needs to hear us, maaan..." The gallows humor of it all being, well...no one needs to hear us, but in order to, as the joke goes, take a five thousand dollar guitar and drive five hundred miles to make fifty bucks, you have to somehow convince yourself that it matters. To someone, anyone, besides yourself.
So as far as that goes – does it matter, getting better at playing guitar? As a guy in the, for lack of a better word, business of helping people do so, from time to time I have to think hard about that one. If you're reading this email, you probably aren't one of those folks who view music as a luxury necessarily, and yet we all know what happens when life gets harried, or intense, or otherwise crowded and upleasant. Even this week, with tab to write out and live streams to prepare and emails to write, I've caught myself thinking, "Really? You're really still gonna sit there and write your four marginally competent bars of counterpoint for the day when there's so much else to do right now?"
And my answer each day has been: damn right I am. I've learned the hard way, over and over, the price I pay when I blow off my practice time. Not in terms of lost progress or receding skills per se, though that happens too. It's something more fundamental: an erosion of satisfaction with myself, and a general sense that hurtling out of bed in the morning with sparkle and zing, while still doable, is becoming incrementally less than appealing.
So I'm for progress; that kind at least. The improvement itself moves at a glacial pace more often than not, but the slow drip of just showing up and doing builds a foundation no one can mess with. So when I scan the parking lot, set my briefcase on the trunk of the car and slip the latches to reveal the goods, that's all I'm hustling. Not that you'll be playing like you've been to the crossroads, that all will be revealed in my miracle PDF, that you'll do everything faster and easier in just thirty days. Just this: that if you can get clear about what you want to learn, and can show up regularly to put a little time in on it – if you can do that, I can give you some clear, concise, linear steps to spend that time on. And that if you choose to do so, you may discover the satisfaction of having a practice – what it feels like to experience a gradual and inexorable deepening of your relationship with music over time.
Whew! Hea-vee, as my friend Giancarlo used to say. Well, speaking (hopefully) of clear, concise and linear steps, today we dive into the third and final lesson of my series on building a repertoire, Arrange. Arranging just means putting all the pieces of a tune together – an intro, a pass or two through the melody, a little soloing, maybe some cool chord riffs, and back out again. In today's live stream, I'll talk about something I call the Seven-Step Arc – the seven sections that comprise a complete arrangement, and how to go about making and assembling them. Along the way I'll zero in on how to create your own intros and vamps, and demonstrate why a 1930s jazz device called the shout chorus makes such a valuable addition to almost any blues arrangement.
You can check out the lesson, and download the PDF ahead of time, at the link below. We go live at 2:30 Central today, and I'll make a replay available afterwards, too:
Fingerstyle Blues Repertoire, Part Three: Arrange
More soon,
David
P.S. If you missed the first two lessons, Groove and Improvise, you can find them here:
Groove
Improvise