Sunday, June 29, 2014
A thundering salute to the root and its dances
When I picked up my first bass (it was my cousin's, many years ago) and kind of hit a note on it there was a certain feeling I got from it, which I can't talk about without comparison.
See, I've been a piano player for more than twelve years. Whilst I hesitate to identify myself as the player of only a certain instrument (because there are some of them - a few of them - that mean more to me than the rest), I could never call myself a musician. I'm certainly not good enough. I loved - and still love - the piano. It feels like expression with your hands, if only on the grand side. Like singing in harmony with yourself. At the same time.
Then many years later (and a few years ago) I was given a guitar and impromptu classical lessons from a friend who also played and didn't want to see that guitar go to waste. So I learnt how to play with my fingers, to learn to press hard enough, to learn to stretch, to learn that "having small hands is a lousy excuse for not being able to play an acoustic guitar" (not that I have small hands). The guitar wails, whines, yelps.
And finally I got an electric bass. The bass isn't quite the same as the piano or even the guitar. It requires a different sort of coordination, it doesn't try to be larger than it actually is, and it doesn't sing. I guess this is where my guitar experience kind of came in handy, along with the fact that I played classical first. I have enough strength to keep those massive strings down. I'm incredibly comfortable with fingerstyle, so much that I actually have to practise using a pick (which I cannot maintain an even attack with for the life of me). But the most important thing the bass has given me is simplicity. There is this thing about pumping out even notes that matches the rate of your heart, the tapping of your foot, the clenching of your jaw, the nodding of your head. The bass doesn't dramatise or sing, it talks. It almost feels like the low, even conversations that you have at night with someone before you drift off into sleep, peaceful, unpretentious, comforting. That's not to say it can't solo or excite. In fact it serves to highlight the tension and release you feel when there's a particular series of high/low(er) notes hit after you've been driving for so long. It's almost like walking or jogging (or even running) to an even thumping rhythm, then soaring on those bits. Maybe this is why I've always been more a fan of rock, new wave, even power pop, rather than jazz, punk, rap, et cetera.
I think, that's what draws me to the bass and keeps me there. I've felt tension and release from the piano, but never in the same way as I have from the bass, because usually I'd be focusing on playing the melody with just the right dynamics, something that I get pretty much naturally for the accompaniment. The guitar... doesn't give me that same kick. A nice bit is delightful, but feels empty.
If I could, I'd want to jam with another bass player who shares the same tastes in music as I. It would be cool.
I also thing it's probably why I'd make a better sideman/accompanist than the main person or something.
Posted at 1:57 PM
