There’s a lot of people out there spending serious time on serious activities. We’re not just talking about the bass here, but other areas too like drawing, writing, piano, dance, sport. You name it and there are people working on getting better.
And you know what? The bulk of those people just aren’t getting better. And it’s not for lack of work either, a lot fo these people are putting in time that they could be spending with their families. Or on their businesses. Or hanging out with their friends.
Eventually – as they see little return on their investment of time – they get frustrated. And the hours start to tail off. And pretty soon they’re not pursuing the goal of getting better anymore. They just do their ‘thing’ as a hobby. Or the equipment gets put in its case and shoved in the attic. Or under the bed. Or the closet.
And they’ll say: ‘That’s something I used to do.”
And maybe once in a while they’ll think about it. Or regret that they gave it up.
I know that feeling. It happened to me too.
I’ve played the bass off and on since I was 15. I started getting serious in my early to mid twenties. And then lucked into a gig with a band in a ski resort in France. And by a combination of lcuk and circumstance that band turned into a business back in the UK – that grew to be one of the UK’s most popular party and wedding bands.
But somewhere along the way – the late 90s to be precise – it happened to me too.
I stopped practicing.
Sure I still played. And learned songs for gigs. At this stage I was still gigging two to three nights a week. Every week of the year.
But almost overnight I went from practicing 4 or 5 hours a day religiously to nothing.
And then as the ‘job’ changed and I became more of a Manager – and my two kids came along – the number of gigs I played at went down from 8 a month to 2 a month. And then down to 1 every other month. And one year – 2005 – I think I did two gigs in the whole year.
Why did you stop practicing?
It was too frustrating. The returns I was getting on the investment of time were minimal. I felt I was just treading water. And I was meeting guys who practiced less than me, who had studied less than me and knew less theory, who were just tearing it up on stage and leaving me behind.
And I succumbed to one of the myths of talent – that everybody’s talent level is pre-ordained and once you hit that limit that’s it. You won’t get any better. No matter how hard you try, or how much practice you put in.
And so I stopped trying to improve. And quietly put my bass in its hard case (which was used so infrequently it was in storage) – and then my bass and its case went into storage.
So what happened?
What happened was this:
My eldest son was coming up to his 5th birthday. And my wife asked what we should get him for his birthday. So I said to her: What about getting him a bass guitar? She thought that was a great idea – she always regretted giving up the piano when she was younger – but on the condition that I teach him.
Which I hadn’t thought through, other than showing him a few licks and tricks.
So I started researching teaching the bass.
I imagined that as with say classical piano, there would be two or three good books that I could use as the basis of his basic teaching. Allied with the knowledge I had, I thought this would make a good combination. But the electric bass is only about 50 years old. And there’s no recognized body of learning like there is with the piano. Or the classical guitar. Or even the saxophone (which is only about 50 years older).
So I quickly decided to fashion my own course for him. One that would be non academic in the sense of passing a written exam, but would equip him with the skills to ‘make it’ in the real world.
In the course of my research I found some gold.
The first piece of gold was the ’10,000’ hours meme which I’m sure you’ve heard of. ‘It takes 10,000 hours to get really good at something.’
The second piece of gold set light bulbs of in my head.
It was a variation of the 10,000 hours meme. And the variation said something like: ‘It’s not the 10,000 hours that gets you to be really good, it’s the way you spend those 10,000 hours that determines if you’ll continually improve.’
Suddenly I realized why all those hours I’d sat practicing scales and arpeggios – and all the variations in two octaves, and with different fingerings, etc etc – had been such a waste of time. Sure I’d been practicing, but my practice had had little or no focus. I’d assumed – along with everyone who spends hours at the piano, or with a paintbrush, or playing sport – that the act of simply sitting and practicing would magically make me better.
And that’s another of the myths about talent – that if you want to get better you’ve got to put the hours in.
Surely if you want to get better you’ve got to practice.
That’s absolutely, undeniably true.
If you take up something new for example, and practice it diligently, you will quickly attain a reasonable level of competence at that task.
But progressing beyond that competence level is much harder. And most people’s method of trying to improve beyond that competence level is simply by practicing more.
And that won’t get you there.
But before you get frustrated and give up – like I and thousands of others have – the final piece of gold I found will help you maintain continuous improvement in your chosen discipline provided you apply it.
Instead of practicing more, you need a system that will focus your practice on MAKING YOU BETTER. The system is called Deliberate Practice.
Deliberate Practice is for all the people out there putting in serious time at getting better at their chosen discipline. If you apply it to your practice every day of the week, every week of the month, every month of the year, and year after year then you will get better.