Om

On Friday evening I played guitar with friends for the first time since Lydia was born. Specifically - bass. I also drank Moose Green for the first time in ages, just for old time’s sake. Off topic, but Moose Green in a can is pretty shit, whereas Moose Green in a bottle is the shit.

Aaaanyway, being so out of practice, I basically just stood back and tried to keep up. Thankfully there was a whole lotta Floyd going on, and that’s pretty easy to follow. And zone out to, which frankly is why I like to play; I put my head down, find an easy two-note groove, and keep at it while the rest of the guys noodle and fill away. My mind wanders. I forget where I am. My hands and fingers move on their own. I occasionally drool. Sometimes I time travel. I wobble back and forth and try not to throw things off with whatever flourishes I try to add - a messy run here, a distractingly-loud thumb slap there - because it is totally possible to screw up a two-note jam. Not to get too hokey or sappy or romantic about the whole deal, but it is pretty cathartic and unbelievably fun when you're playing with a few old friends who are all on the same page. It is probably the closest I ever come to meditation. A hippy-less drum circle, with guitars, distortion, delay and beer - om.

The group of guys I was playing with previously (see The Frigate, July 23rd!) were too concerned with "structure" and "gigs" and working on actual "songs" than with playing along to my slow-build, post-rock, drooling, meditative jams. Every now and then they would get dragged into it, probably by accident, but two or three minutes into what I thought was a great little head-clearing number, when I felt them getting bored, I would look up and they were all staring - waiting for me to introduce the third note. Pffft - three notes! Like we were Rush or something. Don't get me wrong, "songs" are fun too, but the learning and practicing end up being work. Making it up as you go is where it's at - you can hide your mistakes, your musical shortcomings aren't nearly as limiting or apparent, and you aren't held to your source material for comparison, which - unless you're pro - is always unflattering. It might suck to listen to but, eh, I'm not playing for you, I'm playing for me.

In summary, drink Moose Green from a bottle.