There comes a time in every young musician’s life when, after a great day spent practicing, performing, or just jamming with friends, he or she thinks:
“This is so incredible. I wish I could become a professional musician so that I could do this every day.”
This is easily understandable, endlessly relatable, and almost completely backwards.
In real life, a person does not become a professional musician so that they can play music every day. Sure, this might be the goal for many people, but in reality it just doesn’t work in that direction.
Instead, there are some people who, for whatever reasons, are driven to make a decision to play and engage deeply with music every single day.
They know that by doing this every day, they stand some remote chance of perhaps becoming a professional musician at some point in the future.
Many won’t. But thankfully, even for those who never do become professionals, there is plenty of reward in simply committing to turn music into a daily practice.
Habits matter. There are endless ways to engage with music daily. Make it a ritual. Because if you don’t choose your habits, they will choose themselves for you, and you will end up with daily rituals that you don’t quite remember having ever selected for yourself. They are rarely the good kind.
Recently, I’ve made a point to reevaluate my own relationship with music. For someone who identifies as being music obsessed, was I behaving that way? Or had I slipped, and was I letting mere self-identification stand in for real work and real engagement with the stuff?
It is the normal condition of man to run off the rails in this way without ever even realizing it. Stopping to ask yourself hard and uncomfortable questions, and then dealing with them honestly, wading through the accompanying guilt and fear and cognitive dissonance, is the only way forward. It is the only way back onto the tracks.
Today, when I wake up in the morning, after a quiet cup of coffee, I listen to music.
At this early hour, it’s usually gritty funk or latin music from before 1975, jazz from before 1959, Afro-Cuban music, or something similarly satisfying, cognitively un-challenging and mildly up-tempo. Or at least that’s what’s been working for me these days.
(This set of criteria seems to pair well with my other new habit of doing some basic exercise in the morning. I’m talking about simple, normal-people stuff like squats, pushups and pullups in order to establish a baseline of strength and energy to take into each day. I’ve recently chosen this as an alternative to my prior, un-chosen habit of scrolling through my email and Facebook newsfeed in bed each morning, and it seems to have been one of the best decisions that I’ve ever made.)
After this, I return to silence and get some written work done. I’ve never been able to write well with music playing, and I doubt I ever will. I’m nearly as interested in the rhythm and sound of words as with their meaning, and with music playing, I just can’t hear them right. (You may be different. That’s fine too.)
After this, I set aside 30 minutes to play piano each day. I don’t have to play the piano for all 30 minutes, but I’m not allowed to do anything else. (You’d be amazed how well this rule works.) Since I have no aspirations of being a professional musician, this is enough for me. Some days, if I can get away with it, I play more.
After this, I either got to the studio and work on music all day, or I do other sorts of work, going through at least two more stages of intentional music listening:
In the afternoon, I might listen to old school soul, hip hop, electronic music or any manner of rock music from grungy proto-punk to pop to cerebral math rock to everything in between. At this time, I’ll also set aside some energy to listen to all those things that friends and fans and potential clients have been asking me to hear.
In the evening or the nighttime hours, my final listening for the day will often turn to 19th or 20th century classical music, jazz (usually from 1959 and beyond at this point), bossa nova, tango or maybe music from India or Eastern Europe. I’ve been meaning to hear more of both.
These daily, intentional listening sessions might last 5 minutes or they might last 5 hours. It depends on the day and how much I’ve been working in the studio. While doing so, I might read or write emails, take a walk, clean the office, or I might just sit and listen. I also spend plenty of time in silence, or talking with people either in person or on the phone. But I can tell you that with this intentional daily ritual of music, I am far happier than I am without it.
Maybe you’re the same way. With that in mind, I invite you to ask yourself: Have you been deeply engaging with music, or have you merely been playing it lip service? Have you set up helpful rules and habits for yourself, or have you let your life become dominated by habits and rituals that you never really chose?
Within your rules, it’s helpful of course to have some flexibility. When I’m working in the studio more or playing more myself, my music needs are often satisfied that way, and so I might listen far less. But I still keep the habit going. Without the little rituals, without the daily choices, slowly but surely, it all starts to fall apart in the long run.