Part B (or, Just Because You're Better Than Me Doesn't Mean I'm Lazy)
Early in High School I watched the U2 at Red Rocks video endlessly, as well as listened to WFMU and WPRB, even compiling a list called "Bands You've Never Heard of" and showing it to my friends. Paul had heard of many of them, Ned Stroh, John Skeehan and Chris Rogers knew even more (he was in a hardcore band that played at CBGBs some Saturday afternoons). On the list were Robyn Hitchcock, XTC, Dead Kennedys, Camper Van Beethoven, Guided By Voices, et al. I would lay in bed with my walkman and listen ever so carefully, imagining what Edge might be doing on his guitar. I think it was my junior or senior year that Chris let me borrow an old bass--a generic Precision knock-off with a bass fish sticker on it and a little practice amp. I played little note exercises once in a while but did very little with it until he asked for it back.
In art school me and some buddies formed a "band" and went instrument shopping. In those days there didn't seem to be decent quality generic instruments--either utter crapulence or Gibsons, so our group stalled and withered and died. When I graduated from college in 1991 I bought the Washburn (and put a nasty deep scratch in the side on, like, day 2) and even took a few lessons. A few years later I sent it to my brother and he or whoever played it put some big scratches in the pickguard. In 2000 I demanded it back, much to Matthew's grumbling. I started with a lesson book then and played to Sam early every morning when he was a puking infant. He laid on the floor on his back, I sat on the couch. I fiddled with it off and on for next couple years and in 2003 started to use it more deliberately. I still can barely read standard notation, tab just annoys me, and keeping time is a bit of an issue (though when it's just me I don't notice any problems!). But I'm having a ton of fun and there is immense satisfaction even in sort of not quite getting it all right. I don't think I'll ever be "good", but I will enjoy myself.
So there, Mrs Luck.
Robyn and Kimberly at the Double Door in Chicago, 2002
Early in High School I watched the U2 at Red Rocks video endlessly, as well as listened to WFMU and WPRB, even compiling a list called "Bands You've Never Heard of" and showing it to my friends. Paul had heard of many of them, Ned Stroh, John Skeehan and Chris Rogers knew even more (he was in a hardcore band that played at CBGBs some Saturday afternoons). On the list were Robyn Hitchcock, XTC, Dead Kennedys, Camper Van Beethoven, Guided By Voices, et al. I would lay in bed with my walkman and listen ever so carefully, imagining what Edge might be doing on his guitar. I think it was my junior or senior year that Chris let me borrow an old bass--a generic Precision knock-off with a bass fish sticker on it and a little practice amp. I played little note exercises once in a while but did very little with it until he asked for it back.
In art school me and some buddies formed a "band" and went instrument shopping. In those days there didn't seem to be decent quality generic instruments--either utter crapulence or Gibsons, so our group stalled and withered and died. When I graduated from college in 1991 I bought the Washburn (and put a nasty deep scratch in the side on, like, day 2) and even took a few lessons. A few years later I sent it to my brother and he or whoever played it put some big scratches in the pickguard. In 2000 I demanded it back, much to Matthew's grumbling. I started with a lesson book then and played to Sam early every morning when he was a puking infant. He laid on the floor on his back, I sat on the couch. I fiddled with it off and on for next couple years and in 2003 started to use it more deliberately. I still can barely read standard notation, tab just annoys me, and keeping time is a bit of an issue (though when it's just me I don't notice any problems!). But I'm having a ton of fun and there is immense satisfaction even in sort of not quite getting it all right. I don't think I'll ever be "good", but I will enjoy myself.
So there, Mrs Luck.
Robyn and Kimberly at the Double Door in Chicago, 2002
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