In Which She Admits She Got No Rhythm
Things I have: a new fuzzy argyle sweater; an addiction to Total(R) 2% greek yogurt; a venue picked out for my 30th birthday party; a desire to rock out on the guitar.
Things I don't have: time to straighten my apartment or call my friends; a car; a dog; enough dental insurance; a functioning umbrella.
Oh, and rhythm. People, I have no rhythm.
This was evidenced at my guitar lesson on Monday, and revisited every evening since. Bob and I decided it was time for me to learn a new song. He asked me what I'd been listening to lately, and I told him about my passionate love affair with the song Doin' Fine by Ellis. So we listened to it on his computer, and together (or so he made me believe) we figured out what key it was in. (D#, though she plays it with a capo on the 6th fret, enabling her to use chord shapes for G, D, Em and C, rather than the wackadoo D# shapes Bob was making me try first. I must have looked like I was in great pain, because as I struggled to make my fingers do these annoying barre chord things they don't want to do, he commented, "Boy, you don't like this at all.")
I was thrilled to have the progression for the song: four very simple chords I know well. So far, so good. We scooched back to the beginning of the song and both set about playing along.
One of us sounded great. One of us sounded retarded. I bet you can match the participants in column "A" with the performances in column "B."
So why did Bob sound so much better than me? To quote one of my favorite actor/singer/dancers of all time, he's got rhythm, he's got music. (Who could ask for anything more?)
Moreover, he knows lots of different strumming patterns, and can apply the right one to the right situation. I know only one strumming pattern. It goes, "Strum along with the words." But when the words are even slightly syncopated, strumming the lyrics means losing all sense of time.
I know, you're bored. Me too. Bored of not knowing how to play the g-d guitar. But hopeful that the more songs Bob teaches me, the more rhythm I will acquire.
A girl can dream.
Things I don't have: time to straighten my apartment or call my friends; a car; a dog; enough dental insurance; a functioning umbrella.
Oh, and rhythm. People, I have no rhythm.
This was evidenced at my guitar lesson on Monday, and revisited every evening since. Bob and I decided it was time for me to learn a new song. He asked me what I'd been listening to lately, and I told him about my passionate love affair with the song Doin' Fine by Ellis. So we listened to it on his computer, and together (or so he made me believe) we figured out what key it was in. (D#, though she plays it with a capo on the 6th fret, enabling her to use chord shapes for G, D, Em and C, rather than the wackadoo D# shapes Bob was making me try first. I must have looked like I was in great pain, because as I struggled to make my fingers do these annoying barre chord things they don't want to do, he commented, "Boy, you don't like this at all.")
I was thrilled to have the progression for the song: four very simple chords I know well. So far, so good. We scooched back to the beginning of the song and both set about playing along.
One of us sounded great. One of us sounded retarded. I bet you can match the participants in column "A" with the performances in column "B."
So why did Bob sound so much better than me? To quote one of my favorite actor/singer/dancers of all time, he's got rhythm, he's got music. (Who could ask for anything more?)
Moreover, he knows lots of different strumming patterns, and can apply the right one to the right situation. I know only one strumming pattern. It goes, "Strum along with the words." But when the words are even slightly syncopated, strumming the lyrics means losing all sense of time.
I know, you're bored. Me too. Bored of not knowing how to play the g-d guitar. But hopeful that the more songs Bob teaches me, the more rhythm I will acquire.
A girl can dream.
posted by Kelly at 8:06 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home