I wish it was lighter

I was having trouble falling asleep.

So I picked up my bass and started playing on my bed. There has never been any particular reason behind this action I repeat everyday. I never questioned it. But that didn’t matter; I kept on noodling without aim – no structure and no intention of any construction of a musical story – just random phrases that groove and make me feel good. At that time, I could barely feel the weight of the bass on my lap. And time went by just as any other time goes by, except I felt safe with my beloved instrument in my hands as I continued my fall into that comfortable-half-sleep. 

I gained consciousness of the lack of intention in my playing. It started bothering me. After all, as trumpet player Wynton Marslais said, “If you wanna practice you might as well practice right”. With that thought I forcefully denied myself of continuing that fall to torpor. I needed to get off my bed. I gripped my bass on its neck to bring it with me and it felt heavy, much heavier than just a few moments ago. It did not feel great to carry something of such weight, but I had to, because I needed to practice the proper way, to get good. 

I silently wished that getting good at music was just as easy as playing whatever makes me feel good every single day.

I felt like playing while standing up. As I put the strap of my bass on my shoulder, I decided that I wanted to learn Jaco Pastorius’s bass solo on the tune Havona. I closed my eyes and listened. The warm tone of his bass, his speech-like phrasing of melodic ideas, and most of all: the indescribable way the color of his melodies changed throughout the solo. I laughed in awe at every turn; it felt euphoric. I started singing along after a few listens and even imagined myself playing it, plucking the bass’s strings to the rhythm despite not knowing which notes he played. One can only imagine how fun it feels to be in that “zone” like him, where all flows well and your hands magically play the notes that you hear in your head. Even just the thought of that took the mass of the bass off of my left shoulder and I floated joyously and weightlessly through the colorful world of Jaco’s music.

I told myself again to not imagine things. I’ve only ever visited the “zone” a rare few times. Those times I didn’t feel the weight of my bass at all. I needed to get there more often. I started trying to learn the solo by ear, but the notes I am playing didn’t sound like the notes that I imagined myself playing. The chore-like process of re-listening to every phrase at 0.6x speed over and over again to figure out the notes angered me immensely. It certainly was learning a new language; the struggle reminded me of Freshman year Spanish class. With frustration overflowing, I started to notice the weight of my bass on my shoulder. The strap, carrying the weight of the entire instrument, strangled my shoulder. Even the individual notes on my bass seemed like buttons too heavy for me to press down on. I felt anxious. I want to have fun but I cannot.

I want to be a great musician. I want to dive deep into the music rabbit hole and explore, but at the same time I hate the feeling of the weight of my bass crushing my shoulder, the feeling of being lost inside of that rabbit hole. I wish I could learn to play to the limits of my bass without a constant burden on myself. I wish it felt as weightless as listening to music or playing whatever makes me feel good.