Most of the time I don't think about the fact that it's totally up to me whether anything gets done at all. I've been freelancing since I was twenty-two, so the fact that I have to organize my own day is just a given. As is the fact that I am usually working to some completely invented deadline, based on almost equally invented ideas of what's due for delivery next and when "next" is in the first place.

It's become a 21st-century truism among musicians and other independent craftspeople that we have to be good at far more things than just the craft itself: audio engineering, graphic design, video editing, copywriting...the list goes on. But I'd say inventing and meeting deadlines is right up there as far as essential skills for the aspiring artist go.

Hence my dilemma as this week has worn on. My recent obsession with the Hybrid guitar has received additional fuel in the form of a decision to play it for half of an upcoming show in early December. This is, for the most part, a terrible idea, the moral equivalent of having so much fun on a third date that you impulsively propose moving to Barcelona together in lieu of ordering dessert.

But it has also accelerated my efforts to grok the new tuning, and figure out which songs of mine best lend themselves to Hybrid treatment in the first place. I really can't remember the last time I felt this compelled to just pick up my guitar and work on stuff at every available opportunity. Maybe back when I was first learning the dobro and the pedal steel, which both had similarly steep and disorienting learning curves.

Which is all very well and good, except I also have a railroad to run, and as long as I'm doing so, it is of course preferable for the trains to run on time. So if I spend the entire morning practicing, and the afternoon rehearsing for this show, that's a whole day when no freight moves, at least not in any appreciable way.

I do work far enough in the future that if I miss a day or two or even a week of making the stuff, things won't fall apart. But I will be that much more stressed when I get back to it, knowing there's less margin for error. And that matters, because in my experience, making the stuff is more fun when there's time to experiment, mess around and make mistakes along the way. Stuff made that way also tends to come out better.

I got into a cab with my gear one time in New York, and as we pulled away from the curb the driver said, "A musician, huh? So, whaddya sleep all day?" Passing lightly over the fact that I had just loaded a session's worth of instruments into his trunk at eleven in the morning, I wanted to say, No, and I don't play my guitar all day either. I do all kinds of stuff, very little of which involves sleeping or playing.

So when I roll into the studio in the morning and all I want to do is practice, I feel like I should just ride that wave, at least for a day or two, if not longer. There will always be deadlines of one kind or another, but days when playing feels like breathing and I can't stop trying to figure out the next piece of the puzzle don't grow on trees, at least not in my neighborhood.

Also, Hal Galper says practice what you're into. So I'm going with that.

Meanwhile – I have a new lesson up on Youtube this morning, on how to play your blues licks with a reliable shuffle groove. You can find it here:

Playing Pentatonic Licks With A Shuffle Groove

More soon,

David