Things change over time. Age brings fresh ways of looking at the world, based mainly on experiences. What worked for you back then may not work as well for you now, if at all.

Such has been my journey with the guitar and those who influence my playing.

When I first got into guitar in the late nineties, few things lit me up like a guitar “shredder.” You know, that player who could get around the fretboard with stunning accuracy while playing at about Mach 1. Man, how I wanted to be able to do that!

I’m guessing that mindset came from my dad exposing me to Al DiMeola and John McLaughlin. I first heard DiMeola via Return to Forever’s Romantic Warrior album. Then I heard him with McLughlin and Paco de Lucia on Friday Night in San Francisco, an acoustic trio blaze-fest that blows my mind to this day.

This is the way to play guitar, I thought. The faster, the better. My personal gauge on how good a guitarist was revolved around pure speed and little else. But I was still almost 15 years before taking up the guitar myself.

When I did start playing, I found myself gravitating toward players like Buckethead. Not only was he a pure shredder (it would be a moment before I discovered his other styles), he was doing it over killer drum and bass grooves and other rhythms, which I was crazy about.

And then there was John Petrucci. I thought his work with Dream Theater was plenty cool, but he really hooked me when I heard Liquid Tension Experiment.

Don’t get me wrong: I got plenty out of Adrian Belew, Jeff Beck, and Jimi Hendrix playing at a more leisurely pace in their own way, but I just knew that speed was where it’s at!

Yeah, about that …

My second serious run at guitar (now almost four years old) has me looking at the instrument from a completely different perspective.

I don’t get the nearly as much out of shredding as I used to. I just don’t. I hear someone playing at a thousand miles an hour, and I’m all but yawning. That’s nice, I think to myself. Now, let’s see you DO something with all that speed!

There are a couple of players I can watch shred, but not for extended periods of time. When I think about my own playing, I feel I’m much better off becoming a more lyrical player. Guitar solos should sound like words you’ll want to memorize. The notes come at a leisurely pace, as if the solo is saying, “Just listen. I’ll be there when I get there!” There’s absolutely no need to rush. Plus, there will be room for improvisation.

As I’ve mentioned repeatedly, my current role model for this kind of playing is David Gilmour. This is why I can sit and listen to 50-year-old songs repeatedly. It’s not just about the songs anymore. It’s about the emotional playing that comes with them. When Gilmour plays “Sorrow,” I hardly know what to do with myself.^ So, I just sit and try to learn.

Not only is speed no longer a priority, but I have a lot to learn about treating the guitar as a device created for adding texture, like the way Adam Jones does it with Tool. It was pointed out to me in a YouTube video that it’s really bassist Justin Chancellor who provides a lot of the lead grooves. Jones adds some serious textures. His leads on tunes like “Triad” snake through the soundscape rather than try to float above them. That works for me.

Truth is, I should be looking for a hybrid of all three styles. Players like Robert Fripp can blaze over the fretboard, but he can also play lovely soundscapes at a slow and steady pace, giving the music room to breathe and soar about the room before another band member adds on to it, or Fripp chooses to add another layer to what he played.

Mike Keneally is another favorite example. The man can definitely shred, and he does. But more often than not, he’s plugged into the more emotional side of his playing along with the shred, bending strings and sliding around the guitar neck tastefully to give his songs the soul they need.

In the end, I’m looking to do a little of everything, but trying to make sure what I play gets where it’s going in its own time. I’m working my way through Pink Floyd’s “Shine On You Crazy Diamond.” Let’s just say there are a ton of string bends and they’re helping me build some callouses.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go practice.

^ I know “Sorrow” isn’t fifty years old. But “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” is, and that’s the tune I’m learning to play.

#cirdecsongs

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