Yesterday was pretty cool. I wandered into Gus Zoppi, which is a Ma' and Pa' music shop around the way from my house. I've been randomly wandering into this store for many years; in fact I even took the only four piano lessons I could afford there. I was stoned as hell. There were alot of people all waiting for various things: lessons, assistance, you know.. I was in no rush so after brousing the slim selection of classical guitars I eventually picked one up and tried it on for size. It really wasn't anything special. It was a Fender, however it looked as if it were an exact clone of my classical which is an Ibanez. It even sounded just like my guitar.
I sat on a stool with my back turned to most of the store. I got the chance to play a few melodies I have written over time and after a while it became an ambient backdrop to the growing population of Gus Zoppi-goers. This really isn't the interesting part of the story though. The interesting thing is that about ten minutes into my music I suddenly heard a bass beginning to play along with me. There was, no doubt, a man playing bass guitar and sitting with his back to my back and without turning almost completely around I would have never seen him sitting there. I didn't stop though and neither did he. We just jammed.
I've jammed before. Thousands of times. It truly is one of the greatest perks of being a musician that you get to share this form of communication with other people. You make blank stares at each other and you do not speak with your mouths but rather your music. It's really cool. One could imagine the limitless possibilities of what sorts of conversation come up in a jam session. A good jam sessions is when both of the musicians allow each other space to take the lead. A bad jam session is when one musician gets greedy and selfishly steals the "spotlight". Therefore it is good to be humble when jammin' because it is, of course, a learning period.
It is fun to jam with lots of people at the same time. I remember when me and my roomates used to have long intense jams at the Trumbull house where we would play continuously for hours. People would jump in and out picking up different instruments and rotating. One person would take the lead for a while and when his or her drive was running low another would pick up where they left off. This is yet another example of how fun it really is to be a musician. This whole conversation takes place with nobody uttering a single word; that is unless there is a singer handy. A singer can make a good musician but they must remember that their lyrics are an instrument in and of themselves and just like their voice or any other instrument they should strive to be just as humble.
So here I was jamming with this stranger. It came out beautifully and anyone listening would have believed that we wrote this music together beforehand and brought it in to perform at Gus Zoppi. Something very strange happened however. Something very unusual occured that I have never experienced before. When the bassist left he never once looked me in the eyes. In fact he never looked at me at all, he just kept to himself and walked away. It dawned on me that I have never jammed with someone who I did not look in the eyes. We communicated 100% absent of what one would consider to be typical communication. We did not speak a word to each other, there were no gestures nor body language, and we never looked in the eyes. We communicated using music alone. This is one of the greatest things about being a musician.
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