Episode 21: How to Break the Tab Habit

In aural traditions (like the banjo), the pinnacle of musicianship, regardless of chosen instrument, is musical fluency, which I’ve defined previously as the ability to take imagined sounds and, via the movement of the hands, get them out into the world and into the ears of others.

The analog here is linguistic fluency, defined as the ability to take imagined concepts and, via the movement of the vocal cords, get them out into the world and into the ears of others. It’s the transfer of information, and all its attendant meaning, from one mind to another.

The ability to do such a thing requires a specific type of neural machinery, which we build through practice. Specifically, it requires that we build mappings in the brain between the sounds we imagine and the instrument-specific movements of the hands needed to make them.

And, as you’ll note, written notation isn’t part of the machinery needed for musical fluency. Which means that our goal, if we wish to develop this ability, is to ensure that written notation (in this case banjo tab) isn’t baked into our core banjo playing circuitry (note: this does NOT mean that tabs aren’t a useful tool in the learning process – on the contrary, they are extremely useful when used wisely).

The easiest way to avoid such a situation of tab dependency, where written notation is baked into our banjo playing networks, is to take great care in the creation of said machinery, paying careful attention to the sequence and structure of practice.

[RELATED: The 4-part course on Learning To Play By Ear is now part of Breakthrough Banjo. Click here to learn more, and for a video tour inside.]

Alas, this all too often does not happen. So, what to do if you find yourself in this predicament? Perhaps you’ve been playing a for a while, be it for months or even years, and you find the idea of playing by ear hopeless, unable at this point to even envision a tab-free path to banjo playing. Is it a truly hopeless situation?

Not in the least. The upside here is that tab dependency is not indicative of some inherent flaw in your own capacity to make music by ear, but instead a natural biological consequence of the manner in which you went about learning. Barring true tone deafness, anyone – yes, anyone – can play music entirely by ear, provided they follow the a learning path that leads to that destination.

First, let’s review some of the signs of tab dependency:

1. You find it difficult to “memorize” a new tune (“memorizing” tunes is FAR more challenging when they’re learned exclusively by notation).
2. When you learn a new tune, something feels like it’s missing. Even though all the notes are there, it doesn’t sound like the version you were trying to learn.
3. You find it very difficult to make changes in the way you play a tune once it’s learned.
4. You find playing a tune along with others, or jamming, very challenging.
5. You have a difficult time picking out the chord progression for a new tune.

So if some of these things resonate with you, and you’d like to free yourself of the tab shackles, then let’s discuss how to right the ship.

Breaking the Habit

First, the bad news. Breaking the tab habit, as is the case with all habit breaking, requires the formation of NEW habits. Better habits to replace the old ones.

This means having to take a few steps back in order to move forwards again, like a veteran golfer with a 30 handicap and a swing full of compensations and compromises with no hope of shredding a point off his score without going back to basics to build his swing back from the ground up. It’s not in our nature to do such things.

But it’s an essential thing to do IF you wish to progress.

So, here are a few exercises to help you get started clearing new tab-free trails inside your noggin’.

EXERCISE #1: Spend lots of time singing and humming.

When playing a tune, be it for the first or hundredth time, always begin with a “music first” approach. In other words, make sure before you set about to play the tune on your instrument that you first know the music you want to be making. And knowing means being able to sing or hum what it is you wish to play.

The reason this is so important is because, with written notation, it’s entirely possible to learn new tunes simply by memorizing the movements required to play them. By memorizing the movements, you could theoretically learn from tab without ever involving your ears in the process. But this would be precisely the opposite thing we wish to do.

So spend plenty of time either singing or humming the music you play, or one day would like to play, on your banjo. Your goal here is not to become a great singer, but rather to build up a robust musical imagination.

EXERCISE #2: Practice Visualizing.

Visualization is one of my favorite techniques for developing ear skills. Take a tune you already know or are in the process of learning, and visualize yourself playing it (first person perspective), and hearing the result in your mind.

If you initially struggle with this, then try method #4 below as a bridge to getting here. You also may find it easier in the beginning to start with short phrases of the tune, two to four measures perhaps (for example, you can even start doing this with your banjo nearby. Play a few measures on the banjo, put the banjo aside, and then visualize yourself playing those same measures while hearing the result in your mind).

Do this enough, and you may find that your start doing this sort of thing automatically when you’re away from your banjo (while stuck in traffic, engaged in boring conversation, etc.).

EXERCISE #3: Start picking out simple melodies by ear.

The fundamental skill for playing by ear is simply the ability to match a sound in your mind with a sound on your banjo. Unless you are tone deaf, you are capable of doing this, with practice (click here to take the ear test and find out whether or not you have what it takes to learn to play by ear).

If you’ve never done this sort of thing, just start with some simple melodies that you know very well, and work on finding the basic melody on the banjo.

(RELATED: Click here to take a mini-course on “Getting Started Playing By Ear”)

EXERCISE #4: When you do learn new tunes from tab, use the Brainjo tune-learnin‘ system to do so. Then combine it with visualization practice.

Step 1: Learn a new tune via the Brainjo tune learnin‘ system, a method of learning from tab to minimize the risk of tab dependency. Click here to learn more about it.

Step 2: Once you’ve learned the tune, record yourself playing it. The speed at which you play it here is entirely unimportant, so play it is slow as need be to play it well.

Step 3: Play the recording, and while doing so visualize yourself playing it (you may find that you do this naturally, as you already have a memory of the recording experience to draw from).

Step 4: Continue this listening and visualizing routine as much as you’d like, but periodically try to visualize yourself playing through the entire tune without the recording. Once you’re able to play the entire tune start to finish without the recording, continue to practice visualizing it in this manner (as in Exercise #2).

I should note here that it’s probably best to start applying these exercises to NEW tunes, rather than ones you’ve already learned from tab. When trying to do this with previously learned tunes, your brain will find it all too easy to go down the well-worn tab dependent pathways, so you’ll be fighting against an old habit while simultaneously trying to build a new one. Not easy.

As said in the beginning, the ability to play music independent of notation requires that we create neural networks that do just that. Networks that can translate the music in our mind to the movement of our hands (rather than the symbols we see to the movements of the hands).

Get started with the exercises above, and you’ll start doing just that – building new, tab-independent banjo playing neural networks that will ultimately allow you to break the tab habit.

— The Laws of Brainjo Table of Contents —

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Episode 20: 5 Reasons Why You’re Playing Has Stalled (and what to do about it!)

If you’ve been at this banjo thing for any length of time, you’ve been there.

Gotten stuck. Hit the wall. Plateaued.

To some degree, this is simply a natural part of the learning process, as I’ve discussed before. Some of the changes that must occur in the brain to support banjo playing take a bit of time to come to fruition. That’s why Brainjo Law #18 says we should expect our progress to look like a staircase, not a straight line.

But in this installment, I’m referring to something more than just a temporary pause in progress.

I’m referring to those times when you’re truly stuck. When you feel like you’ve gotten as far as you can get, and you don’t really know how to move forward. Or if moving forward is even an option.

Hitting this wall is very common. Masters don’t make their way to the apex of expertise because they never hit that wall, they got there because they always found a way through it. 

After all, studies show the single greatest motivating factor for learning is progress. So when you get stuck and growth stalls, guess what happens next? Another banjo starts gathering dust.

So in this installment of the Laws of Brainjo, I’ll be reviewing what I see as 5 of the most common reasons why folks hit the wall, along with a host of solutions to help you blast through it.

(RELATED: The “Breakthrough” Banjo course to prevent folks from hitting the wall, or to make sure that, if you do, you have the tools needed to “break through it. Click here to learn more.)

 

Reason #1: You’re Not Inspired

Life is full of ebbs and flows. In the beginning, you can’t put the banjo down. You can’t even think about anything else but the banjo, and you can’t imagine how you ever wanted to do anything else with your time.

As infatuation wanes, as is natural, you may find yourself losing interest, and you wonder where the fireworks went.

Sometimes, this is just a natural part of every relationship, and maybe it’s just because the banjo just isn’t the right musical mate. But what if, on the other hand, you want to rekindle the flame, but you just can’t generate a spark?

WHAT TO DO:

• Reconnect with what got you here. Chances are, you started playing the banjo for a reason. Maybe a band or player you heard, a festival you went to, or even just one song. Remember and revisit those early experiences.

• Seek out players that inspire you. Find a festival or jam. Or, if possible, sign up for a banjo camp. For me, there’s nothing more inspiring than being around a group of accomplished musicians, and I always come away with my motivational tank overflowing. If you can’t do the live thing for whatever reason, go on a youtube expedition (or any other place online you like to find music), and don’t come up for air until you’ve bookmarked some favorites, and revisit them whenever you need an inspiratory jolt.

 

Reason #2: Resting On Your Laurels

Once you get to a certain level of proficiency, it’s really easy to get stuck in a rut with your practicing. You may also feel like you must spend most, if not all, of that practice time just maintaining your skills and repertoire.

But, more than likely, that’s overkill. After all, there’s a reason that riding a bike is, well, “like riding a bike.” You can go years without doing so and, after just a bit of time to get the rust off, pick up right where you left off.

Once you’ve created a mature, subconscious neural network – or “zombie subroutine” – it’s yours for the long haul. So if you practice your old stuff, do it because you WANT to, not because you NEED to.

WHAT TO DO: Create a system for your practice that ensures you’re always dedicating some of your time to new material (new tunes, techniques, etc.).

 

Reason #3: Not Seeking Out New Sources

If all goes well in our banjo learning journey, we become increasingly proficient at taking the sounds in our mind and transferring them through the banjo.

As stated in Episode 11, musical fluency and improvisation is predicated on the ability to map musical ideas (and the neural networks that represent them) onto motor programs. This means that once musical fluency has developed, our playing is only limited by the sounds we can imagine.

And one of the best ways to stoke that imagination, and to fill your head with new sonic possibilities, is to find new sources that inspire you.

More than likely, when you first started out, you had one or more players who’s picking you aspired to. Players who were part of the reason you ventured down this road to begin with.

Be it Earl, Doc, J.D., or Tommy, it’s likely that, in the beginning, there was probably someone who’s sounds you couldn’t get out of your head, and who’s music you spent lots of time listening to.

And, whether you realized it or not, all that listening was a fundamental ingredient in your growth as a player. 

WHAT TO DO:

• Seek out new sources to obsess over, especially those with styles that differ from your own. Pay attention to the players who make your ears perk up when you listen to them, and see if you can figure out what it is they do that makes that happen. If you can, learn more about their musical story, and find a way to emulate their journey in your own way (Remember Brainjo Law #1: to learn to play like the masters, you must learn to play like the masters).
• Build your imagination muscle. When listening to music, imagine what you’d play along with it – or how you’d adapt it – on the banjo (regardless of whether you have the technical skills needed to play it just yet).

 

Reason #4: Staying In Your Comfort Zone

The research on learning is clear: we only improve when we practice at the edge of our limits, when we deliberately stretch the boundaries of what we’re capable of, and push ourselves outside of our comfort zone.

Yet, as our skills progress and the range of our automatic skill set expands, it’s natural to resist going outside of that comfort zone. After all, you’re no longer a beginner, so why revisit those early days of struggle and slow-going?

WHAT TO DO:

• Embrace the struggle. Realize that the struggle represents opportunity for growth. Rather than avoid the things that are awkward and uncomfortable, seek them out, cause that’s where the magic happens.
• Break the “rules.” Don’t be afraid to color outside of the lines. This one is especially applicable to banjoists, who find themselves learning an instrument that’s tightly linked to a musical tradition. It takes courage to step outside the bounds of that tradition, to ignore the dogmatic and vocal minority who claim that there’s only one right way to play the banjo (there isn’t!). Regardless of whether you desire is to stick with the banjo’s traditional repertoire or venture to less trodden lands, there’s great value in spreading your wings.
• Try adapting some of your favorite music from another genre to the banjo, one you’ve never tried on the banjo, or simply try to jam along. Or listen to a favorite musician on another instrument or even another banjo style (clawhammer, bluegrass, old time fingerstyles, Minstrel, Dixieland, Irish tenor, and so on), and try to emulate that sound in your style. Some of my biggest personal breakthroughs happened doing just that. Even if it doesn’t work out, you’ll have undoubtedly learned something.

Reason #5: You’ve reached the limits of your neural networks

Neuroplasticity, or our ability to continue to mold our brain to suit our needs throughout life, is a phenomenal, awesome gift.

But, as Peter Parker knows, with great power comes great responsibility. Because while we can construct new neural networks from scratch, once those networks are fully formed, we have very little control over them. On the one hand, it’s this transition of conscious construction to unconscious execution that allows our playing to ultimately become effortless and automatic, freeing up our attentional resources to focus on the more subtle nuances of music making.

Yet, once these mature networks are performed, and shift from the conscious to the subconscious is complete, they also constrain our behavior (ever learned a tune entirely from tab and then tried to pick it another way?! Darn near impossible, ain’t it?!). This is the double edged sword of neuroplasticity, and the biological explanation for why “old habits die hard.”

WHAT TO DO: The best strategy is to avoid building neural networks that don’t suit your goals (and the Brainjo Method was created to make sure this doesn’t happen!)

But if you find yourself unable to break free of old and bad habits, it’s best to cut your losses, and build new ones. Yes, it means going back to the drawing board for a bit, but in the end it’ll be well worth it.

 

There Is No Bottom

When you get down to it, there’s more that can be done on the banjo than any one person can squeeze into a single lifetime. But it can be easy to miss the forest for the trees, to fall into old routines and habits, and lose sight of all that’s still possible.

Keep looking for ways to grow and stretch, and this amazing musical journey will never ever end. There is no bottom.

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— The Laws of Brainjo Table of Contents —

Episode 19: The Perils of Confusing Style & Technique

The moment has arrived. You’ve resolved to learn to play clawhammer banjo, and it’s time to commence with the first lesson.

But a choice must be made, you are told.

And not any ordinary choice.

It’s arguably the most important choice you’ll ever make in your banjo playing career, a fate sealing decision that will forever alter the course of your playing.

Choose wisely, and the halls of banjo fame await you.

Choose poorly, and your future is dark and bleak, thick with frustration and disappointment.

So….what’s it gonna be?

BUM-DITTY

OR

BUMP-A-DITTY?

What will you learn first?
OR……what if you really don’t have to choose at all?

What if turned out that the very problem that this choice supposedly either created or solved had nothing to do at all with which choice you made, and everything to do with the fact that you’re being asked to make such a choice to begin with?

Getting Technical

First, let’s outline some goals. Our chief objective with any musical instrument is to set the sound making parts in motion in ways we find pleasing to our ears. That’s simple enough.

And doing so typically involves a set of movements of the right and left hands. For clawhammer banjo, we have a particular set of well established, battle tested movements that are great for making pleasing banjo sounds. These are the techniques of clawhammer banjo.

There’s a set of techniques for each hand, and they are:

Picking hand techniques: 

• the hammer strike (striking down with the back of the nail of the picking finger to string single strings)
• the brush/strum (striking across multiple strings in rapid succession)
• the thumb pluck (plucking an individual string, from 1-5, with the thumb)

Fretting hand techniques:

• basic fretting (holding down a string just behind a fret to generate a specific note)
• the hammer on
• the pull off

From Grandpa Jones to Kyle Creed to Frank Proffitt, these are the technical fundamentals of the clawhammer player. They do not vary from one player to the next.

Yet each of these 3 players – and any accomplished player, for that matter – sounds entirely unique. How can that be?

Because each player makes his or her own unique decisions about how to combine those techniques together when they play. When a single person or collection of people has a consistent manner in which they make those decisions, then we identify this set of consistencies as their “style” (individual style in the former case, regional style in the latter).

One component of those decisions involves what rhythmic patterns to use. These patterns are just sequences of picking hand movements that repeat.

For example, one player may favor a hammer-thumb-hammer-thumb picking pattern (“bump-a-ditty”) throughout his playing, whereas another may favor a hammer-brush-thumb (“bum-ditty”) pattern throughout hers. Some may choose a different pattern altogether.

Again, it’s that kind of choice – about how to combine the techniques of clawhammer – made on a consistent basis (within a tune, and from tune to tune) that comprises any given style.

So….to reiterate: Techniques are the elemental movements of playing. Those movements can be combined into patterns. And the consistent use of particular patterns defines a playing style.

 

Non-Blissful Ignorance

So why does this distinction matter? Because ignoring it can spell the difference between building a brain that opens the door to the entire range of possibilities within the realm of clawhammer, and building a brain that limits you to a single offshoot.

And, all too often, this distinction is ignored entirely. As a result, style and technique are all lumped into a single unit from the beginning, setting the player up for future frustration.

Remember, we’re only as good as the neural networks, or “zombie subroutines,” that we create through practice. Meaning the subroutines we create will ultimately determine the landscape of what’s possible in our playing.

The bum-ditty stroke, for example, consists of 3 separate technical elements (hammer-brush-thumb). If you lump all those techniques into one thing from the get go, guess what your brain is going to do? Lump them together as well.

So each time your brain makes a call for a hammer strike, what’s it sending down pipeline next? The strum.

Having been learned as a single unit, those 3 techniques are forever linked in the substance of the brain. This is what we told our brain we wanted it to do, because we started by learning a pattern (i.e. combination of techniques), rather than learning each technique in isolation.

And because these techniques are inextricably linked, it becomes exceedingly difficult for us to combine those techniques into anything other than that first pattern we learned. Again, this is not a matter of how gifted we are as musicians, it’s simply an expected biological consequence of how we practiced.

The problem wasn’t choosing the wrong pattern to begin with. The problem was in choosing ANY pattern to begin with.

This choice only matters if you don’t make any distinction between style and technique in the learning process. Because yes, if you don’t make any distinctions and start with learning picking patterns right out of the gate, then that initial decision will lock you to a particular style. In this case, mixing and matching techniques at will and at the speed of music becomes a biologic impossibility.

Unless you’re willing to go through the process of starting over from scratch, which most are loathe to do, you will have limited yourself to a particular style from the very start.

As I’m sure you’ve figured out, there is an alternative. An alternative that doesn’t constrain your future at all. On the contrary, it keeps open the entire range of stylistic possibilities indefinitely.

And that is to first create these technical networks INDEPENDENTLY from any particular pattern or style (as is done in the “8 Essential Steps to Clawhammer Banjo” series).

With independent, sovereign zombie subroutines for each of our elemental movements, we’re free to mix and match them at will, combining them, at the speed of music, into whatever pattern we choose.

Begin not with patterns, but with the fundamental elements, and our fateful choice laid out earlier makes no sense. Now that the patterns are no longer mutually exclusive, the entire debate becomes meaningless.

— The Laws of Brainjo Table of Contents —