This past weekend got me thinking. Thinking about what it takes to be a musician…what being a musician takes out of you. What you give to being a musician and what being a musician gives back. Luckily, this past weekend gave me much more of the “gives back” side of things as I had gigs at two of my favorite places in the world to play and I also had the opportunity to perform alongside and collaborate with some truly wonderful artists. With them adding to my own work and I (hopefully) adding to theirs…

Now if you know me even the slightest bit you know that this is where I am happiest and most comfortable. Playing alongside folks, adding to their songs, hopefully affixing some sort of semblance of beauty to their music that otherwise wasn’t there…though I occasionally hit a wrong note (bend it until it’s in the right key, right?).

Music may be “the universal language”, but not everyone is fluent in it. There were a few moments on stage that proved the folks I get to play with (or at least did this weekend) are in fact masters of the language. In my humble eyes, the most inspiring way you can communicate with someone is through music (OK, maybe there’s one other way, but we will keep it PG-13 in this post). When you are on stage playing with someone you have never met before, or even is a close friend you know quite well, there are few other things that are as intimate as sharing a musical experience. Having a conversation without speaking. That’s not to say, that only instrumental music is a way to have this conversation, but the impulse, the reaction, the “knowing” where someone you are playing music with is going next. There is going to be a stop on this next chord, the mandolin player is really into it and I know they are going to take another measure for their solo…and I am going to let them. I am going to harmonize an octave above…or below and will react to whatever you are doing. It’s all about the feel, the vibe, the improvisation and ability to react to it without becoming flustered. The look on your cohort’s faces is always payment enough when you are stuck in the groove. Egos are left at the door and all that matters is the ebb and flow of the music. The creation of something new from something that pre-existed as something different before you inserted your own emotion into it. Breathing something into someone else’s song. I feel bad for people who don’t create in an artistic way with other people because this is something that they will never experience. And it is something truly extraordinary.

Personally, I have VERY a long road to travel to get to the musician I want to be…I expect that that road never actually ends and a few bridges will need to be built (and burned) along the way. I may even hit a rest stop along the highway, occasionally. But it’s the other folks riding in the van, or alongside it, with me that I am eternally grateful for. My fellow songwriters and musicians who I get to play with on a monthly, weekly, nightly basis. Those I have only met once or twice and played on one song with but left an everlasting mark on my desire and drive to be a better performer and artist. Those who come to shows and support with words of encouragement. I am a far better songwriter, a better performer, a better musician because of all the people who have had even the smallest impact on me artistically. Too all the folks I have been blessed to share a stage with, thank you. Whether that stage was surrounded by a wall of speakers and 500 audience member or the flickering of a campfire, lightning bugs and the croak of a bullfrog, thank you. You make a difference.

I hope that my musical conversation lasts for a long time to come…so keep talking.