Get Out of My Bubble!

When performing in any ensemble that ventures into the world of improvisation, the issue of personal space always comes up.  The best performers seem to have extra sensory perception to guide them, but is this something that is learned or intrinsic?

The first step to create space for performers is instrument selection.  For instance, generally one wouldn't want bass, drums, and eight guitars in a jazz group.  If left to fend for themselves the guitarists would be stepping all over each other's toes.  It could work though too; for instance recall the jazz video of trumpets that Dan Allen presented in class.  There were three or four instrumentalists trading solos, and they had a very good awareness of personal space.  With musicians it seems there is a natural desire to be heard though (my amp goes up to 11...), and it would be hard to play in a group year after year with four trumpeters.

Here is my story to bring in my personal experience.  Throughout high school I was in a band that would most likely be classified a "jam band."  We had a drummer (Graham), myself on electric guitar, an electric bass player, and another guitarist.  Most of the time our policy was that whoever wrote the song could choose which guitarist got the solo.  Once I got to college a new band was formed within days of my arrival, Simple Academy, again a jamband.  We were together for two years, and adopted the same policy that I had in my previous band.  It seemed to work well, because it encouraged Shea and I to write more music (in order to score more solos).  For many reasons the band eventually broke up.  However, one reason that actually may have been at the foundation of our demise was our personal space in the music.

Simple Academy was a group of two type A personalities, and two non-A personalities.  I would say that myself and the drummer were type-A, and Shea and the bass player were more passive.  This wasn't good though.  The drummer and I were constantly telling the other what to do (Nate: "I wrote the damn song, so you will play the drum beat I tell you" Adam: "I am the drummer, so I can play whatever I want as long as I keep the rhythm"......or, Nate: "You totally lost the beat in that last song Adam"  Adam: "Well even if I did, you have to follow me because I am the drummer and play the rhythm, therefore whatever I play, right or wrong, by default becomes the correct rhythm").  On top of that Shea and I were getting tired (not mad at each other though, like Adam and I) of just playing the same chords over and over while the other soloed, even if we knew that we could take a solo on the next song.

So that is what the Pond Duck Trio came out of.  Shea and I left Simple Academy, and I picked up the bass.  Graham came back, met Shea, hit it off fantastically, and joined as our drummer.  Now as a trio on three different instruments we had our space (and I was on a rhythm instrument so no one could tell me I had no say in the rhythm, but that didn't matter anyway because Graham never seems to lose the beat.  He may lose the count, but he still keeps ticking like a metronome.)  The space we each had was now enormous.  For instance, while Shea was soloing, I could do the same on the bass, and it sounded great!  It was just a fantastic walking bass line to accompany Shea.  Or Graham could start playing rediculous beats all over the place, but I would just keep the rhythm for him so he could make sure to grab back on once he was done.  Shea could do everything and more that he had been able to do before.  And sometimes we would have two guitars and drums, if the song called for it.  

So, I would say observation of personal space in improvisation is something that can be learned, but also must be in the performers naturally.  Over the course of three bands we all learned a lot about personal space...what works and what doesn't.  But some of us naturally acclimated better to it.  Graham had always been better at it than Adam, even earlier in our lives (although Graham may have grown up listening to improv music more than Adam, so that also has a degree of nurture to it).  Well anyway I will close with this statement that I agree with: good improvisers can find zen in their music.

Last Week's Improv Lab

Well last week I had my first improvising lab.  While at Java Joes the previous week, I mentioned that I wanted to do something along the lines of electro-acoustic for improv.  Since I wasn't in the class yet when the groups were chosen, I asked if anyone wanted to do that as well.  Ben Prentiss immediately said he did, and that he had a Boss sampling pedal that he wanted to play with.  Dan Allen also said that he wanted to do something like that.  So we planned on meeting in the Electro-Acoustic lab (very appropriate).

It turned out to be a fabulous hour practice.  We found that in the lab there was also another Boss sampling pedal, the same model that Ben had.  There was also a Line 6 delay pedal.  I brought my little '80's Casio toy keyboard, which features a sampling function.  And Dan had brought his Gibson SG and a little Marshall amp.

The path of electrons that we chose was the SG plugged into the Line 6 delay, plugged into the Boss sampler, plugged into the Marshall.  Then I found a jack on the Marshall that acts as both an input and output, and plugged that into the input and output of my Casio.  Dan would play the SG, I would manipulate the Line 6 delay, while Ben would sample that sound into a loop.  Then I would take that signal into my Casio, sample it, then play it back at various pitches and speeds.  Ben also had a simple drum machine on the Boss that he used.

Eventually a microphone came into the mix.  When we first pulled it out, one of my friends happened to walk by and ask what time the Art Gallery was open that evening.  I said, I don't know for sure.  As he was walking away down the hall though, I remembered.  The only way for him to hear me was to tell him through the microphone, so I sampled myself into the Casio saying "About five," and played it back over and over at different pitches and speeds (the lower on the register the slower and deeper the speech would be....AAAABBBBBOOOOUUTT FIIIIIVVE, but the higher on the Casio piano keys it was played the more it sounded like a 1960's animated chipmunk who drank too many Red Bulls.)  

So, we had our first song, "About Five."  Ben suggested that we do two more for a total of three.  I asked what title for the second one, and he suggested "A Boat Ride" (sounds eerily like "about five").  We decided that it would start out as a ballad, then progress into metal.  It worked fantastically.  Initially Dan played some clean guitar, which I melded with the Line 6 into some gooey licks, then Ben sampled, and I resampled on the Casio.  Slowly the distortion was turned up, and eventually Dan was looping a dirty little number on his Gibson, and I was doing death metal screams into the sample bank on my Casio.  Song two done!

For the final song, Ben picked the title "You're My Lady," a pop song.  Essentially, Dan played some poppy guitar riffs, and Ben and I sung in out best falsettos "You're My Lady" into the sampling parfait.  It came out great.  Ben suggested that we have that one be the radio edit, and the album version actually be "You're My Naughty Lady."  It was agreed.

It was a good time practicing this experiment.  One thing I enjoy when improvising is to have some structure, which we did.  Not too much to hamper the magic that can happen in a really good improv session, but enough so that it isn't just a twenty minute vamp between Cmajor and Gmajor (which, let me tell you, I have wasted many a late night at parties in groups of musicians of varying talent playing a 5-1 progression...or 1-4 perhaps?).