Hey.
How ya been?
I’m not back to make excuses. I’m not even back to make promises. I guess I’m just back to express an intent.
See, 2024 is a year of big changes, whether I’m ready for them or not. I can let them happen to me, or I can make them happen for me.
Yeah, I like that second option better, too.
Enjoy the rest of 2023. See y’all next year.
I saw the Rocksmith 2014 program for my PS4 in the PlayStation store last week; since the RealTone cable was required to use the program, I instead found a bundle with both the program and the cable. My bundle arrived yesterday, I have already logged three hours of practice/play on it, and I still can’t figure out the answer to that question – is it a tool or a toy?
I was intrigued by Rocksmith because of what it’s not – Guitar Hero. Get the RealTone cable, you plug your own guitar or bass into your console, and you’re good to go. I’ll admit, I’ve never played Guitar Hero (or, if I have – and I may have – I’ve repressed the experience), and I’m snobbish about that – I play real instruments, not press buttons. I had an electronic Simon game when I was a kid, and I’m sure my parents could find it if I really had the urge to do push colored buttons on demand.
While I waited for my bundle to arrive, I saw the add-ons in the PlayStation store – after your initial investment, you can continue to shell out as much as you can afford, as the song library apparently is still growing on a weekly basis. This is both a criticism and a compliment – once I get through the program’s included offerings, I’ll be adding that Smashing Pumpkins bundle to my collection. There’s no need to rush into buying the add-ons, however, as the program comes packed with a selection ranging from The Who and Rush to Artic Monkeys and The Shins. After going straight to the Ramones my first time out to give the program a spin, I’ve been mostly just playing the “recommended” song at the top of the list, whether or not I’m familiar with it. Initially this annoyed me, as I was looking at my accuracy score, and irritated when my score would be relatively low on a song I’d never heard before; now, I see this as a primary advantage of the program, as it forces me outside of my comfort zone.
Getting Started
All right, you get the program, start it up (I had to run an update first – 2014 is the version, which means you’ll surely get to shell out for a new version soon if you go for it), plug in your RealTone cable and calibrate your instrument. I actually went through several guitars (my original intent was to use the program to improve my guitar chops) and basses before settling on my Spector bass. At first, I thought my problem might have been my instruments (I’ve upgraded and wired many of them myself, and while they sound fine through an amp, I generally look in the mirror first when looking for the source of a problem); the Spector is stock, and it seems to work pretty well. Now I’m torn between thinking there might be occasional shorts in the RealTone cable itself, or perhaps more likely, there will just be occasional glitches when you try to use an analog instrument as a digital controller.
The first thing you have to do is set up your focus – Lead Guitar, Rhythm Guitar, or Bass. I started with Lead Guitar, tried Bass, switched again to Rhythm Guitar and back to Lead Guitar, and finally settled back on Bass. It’s a lot of steps, but the point is that the switch is easy to make. The negative is that you also choose your initial difficulty level, but the program then gauges your performance and adjusts accordingly. Great, right? I chose “Novice” for Lead Guitar, but while changing instruments is easy, I couldn’t find anywhere in the menu to change the difficulty – so when I switched to Bass, the level was below my comfort zone, but after doing a few bass exercises, the difficulty was well above my comfort zone on guitar. If you know what you want to use Rocksmith for and stick with it, this won’t be a big deal.
Starting to Play
What you really want to do, though, is play – and Rocksmith offers plenty of ways to do this. Once you’ve set up your track and difficulty, and tune your instrument, you get into the main program menu. Your options are:
There’s also a multiplayer mode, but I’m the only one using it on my system – and honestly, if you have another musician to play with, Rocksmith probably isn’t your best playing choice. I haven’t used “Nonstop Play” yet, but it appears to just be a timed practice, with the program playing songs the entire time.
“Learn a Song” is the starting point, both in the menu, and really, in using the program as a whole. As I stated earlier, the basic song library is pretty impressive, and while you might have to purchase add-on songs to get what you’re really after, you’ll probably find something you like to get started.
My first impression is not a good one. I can read music, understand a fair amount of theory, and I’m no snob when it comes to tab – tab is a great way to learn songs quickly. The primary Rocksmith interface is something different altogether. As the song or riff plays, a four-line pattern flows across the screen – and being accustomed to years of looking at bass tab, that was my initial impression. My frustration grew quickly when I learned that the lines represented a section of the fretboard, with the string represented by a color. In all aspects of the game, this is still a problem for me – I learned to play bass with the standard EADG, not the current Red/Yellow/Blue/Orange, so I typically get an error the first time I jump strings while staying on the same fret. The notation also comes toward you as the song plays, making it difficult to see clearly what’s coming up in the song (I’ve played plenty of songs that I’ve never heard before), especially if there’s an open string, indicated by a bar stretching across the notation – and effectively blocking what’s behind it.
If I adjust to the notation, however, the song trainer can actually be a useful practice tool. As I pointed out, the program adjusts its difficulty based on your performance – and this even happens in-song. If the song starts off basic, the program will add additional riffs and techniques, and will even enter “Master” mode, taking away the notation and allowing you to play the song by ear. On the other hand, when I’ve played a song that I’ve never heard before and get a little lost, the program in essence dumbs it down until I build up proficiency.
I’ve only used “Session Mode” a couple of times, but the more I get into the program, the more I suspect this will be one of my favorite tools. You can load a drummer and support instruments and just jam – no score, no funky notation, just a beat and accompaniment to whatever jam you make up. The “Tone Designer” (also on the main menu) gives both options and advice about how to use effects to create your perfect tone, with licensed effects and amps from Marshall, Orange, and Eden; use your tones in Session Mode, and you can get the benefit of thousands of dollars in equipment for the price of the program.
Of course, it takes a while for the drummer to warm up, and that makes it tough to find your groove. Since it plays off of you, it’s no metronome, and you have to focus to keep your time steady – which can be tough if you’re trying to do any kind of groove that’s not a straight 4/4.
The “Lessons” help you get started if you’ve never held a guitar or bass before, and can help you improve your technique even if you’ve been playing for years. Some lessons are just videos, but most start with a video portion demonstrating the technique, followed by a practice portion which asks you to listen to the example then play it yourself, and wraps up with a practice track which forces you to put it all together.
The “Guitarcade” is hit or miss, but may depend on your sound system. I have a decent TV, but don’t have home theater audio, which the game suggests when you boot it up; as a result, a game like “Gone Wailin’” (which asks you to play louder or softer to get bananas) basically turns into an exercise of “play the string hard or not-so-hard” since the actual dynamics don’t cut through the mix of the game music – which ruins what could be a very useful tool. Most of the “Guitarcade” games are set up to look like classic arcade games, and should be fun – I’m a big fan of the “String Skip Saloon,” where I shoot down tough hombres as they bust into the saloon by hitting the appropriate string, and “Duck ReDux” where I shoot ducks by hitting the appropriate fret. But most of the Guitarcade games seem to lack sensitivity, making gameplay frustrating – I’ve already mentioned the weakness with the audio which makes “Gone Wailin’” a good concept poorly executed, but “Ninja Slide N” fails to register when I’ve made my slide, even though I can hear it through the music – and sometimes shout at the TV as I play the required slide two or three times until the game kills me off. I’ve tried playing “Scale Warriors” a few times, but I remain lost on both how the game is supposed to play, and how it is supposed to teach me anything about scales; “Scale Racer” (which has you trying to outrun 5-0 by hitting the indicated degree scale while racing through traffic) does a little better job. Overall, though, the technique trainers in the Guitarcade seem to suffer from not registering the notes played, as if the developer didn’t spend as much time making sure this part of the program worked. It’s a shame, because it honestly has a lot of potential for skill development.
“Score Attack” is located inside the Guitarcade, and is where you take the “Learn a Song” from an accuracy rating to an actual video game score. You can choose to play the song Easy/Medium/Hard, starting with hitting root and accent notes at the beginning, to going through a complete transcription at the upper level. Once you go through the song on Hard without any strikes, you can attempt the Master level, where you play it from memory.
So, Tool or Toy?
I will continue to use Rocksmith 2014, probably because I’m stubborn; I anticipate a long “like/hate” relationship.
I think your enjoyment of the program probably depends on your experience before you use it. I didn’t own a video game console until about six months ago, but I’ve been playing bass longer than most of the PlayStation’s prime market has been alive; I suspect most people who are familiar with any kind of notation would be as confused as I get with the program’s primary interface – my neighbors are probably about ready to have me committed if they hear me shout at the TV again, “It’s the A string, not the yellow string!!! I play music, damn it!!!” On the other hand, if your experience was Guitar Hero, Rocksmith probably makes perfect sense, and your neighbors are happy for you as they hear you gleefully exclaim, “This is so awesome!!! I’m playing real music!!!”
And that’s not intended to be snobbish, it’s just that Rocksmith 2014 seems to be designed for people who are moving from a game like Guitar Hero to actually learning to play a guitar or bass – or for parents who have had that dusty guitar sitting around, and never picked it up until they saw a way to use the game console to pursue their own interests. Even the way the strings are displayed in the interface tends to throw me off when I start playing – and I went from bemused to amused when I realized that it was displaying it in what should be a mirror image for the user, again confusing since it looks so much like tab, but it makes perfect sense if you’re used to seeing the world through selfies. Because the interface is more video game than traditional music notation, I think a novice would have an easier learning curve than a more experienced player.
With Rocksmith bearing a date of 2014, I’m sure we’re about due for an updated program. While I acknowledge that Rocksmith will help me be a better bass player, I would NOT recommend anyone drop the full price on a new version unless the program lags in the lessons and technique trainers are improved. Learning music can be hard enough; you don’t need feedback telling you you’re doing it wrong when the main weakness is a program glitch.
Ultimately, I think Rocksmith is more tool than toy. It overemphasizes imitation, but in so doing, it forces you to perfect your techniques; despite my insane shouting that, “I play real music, not video games!”, part of the frustration is in knowing that the program doesn’t lie, and it’s catching some things I didn’t realize I need to work on.
The Book of Five Strings has been the bass book I’ve wanted to write for the past 15 years, and as I indicated in my last post, will be the basis for most of my writing on this blog. Taken from Miyamoto Musashi’s The Book of Five Rings, my goal is for this to be a practical and philosophical resource for both aspiring and active bass players.
This isn’t about playing a 5-string bass; while I play 5- and even 6-string basses on occasion, in my mind a base bass is 4-strings. The “strings” which will be in the subject headings will serve to identify the category of the post right away:
First String – Earth String: About instruments and equipment, the solid, physical tools we use to make our music.
Second String – Water String: This heading will be about theory and playing techniques, the essential ingredients to making music, regardless of what genre of music you play.
Third String – Fire String: These posts will be about my inspirations, bass players and musicians who fuel my passion to pick up my inspiration and add my few bars to the symphony.
Fourth String – Air (Wind) String: Posts on the Air String will be dedicated to the music that floats through the airwaves – posts about playing in specific styles of music, or about specific songs or albums that bass players (or anyone interested in good bass playing) should be familiar with.
Fifth String – No (Empty) String: At times, these may be the most common posts – getting into my philosophy of bass and of music, our relationship to it, and how it connects us to the eternal and the universal.
I am a man of many reboots, and not in the sense of the life philosophy that “every day is a new beginning.” Sure it is, but that must involve a sense of responsibility – it does no good if you almost daily decide that you will “begin” tomorrow.
Today’s post is intended to be a new beginning, with all the responsibility that a new beginning carries. Looking back on this blog, I am shocked at how long it has been since I last posted, and disappointed in the tone of some of the posts. Both must change.
Music is my passion, and bass is where I make my music. While it is easy to tout a new beginning, the conditions are right for me to meet the responsibility: I am not only rebooting the blog, but in the past few months, I have started a reboot of my life, quitting a job which took much more from me than it ever gave, moving hundreds of miles for a new start in a new state, embracing old loves with new energy. My new day job is to keep my head in the clouds and report back my discoveries, but only the diligent reporting will allow me to keep that job.
The focus of my reboot will be my long intended Book of Five Strings, which I will detail more in my next post. But for now, bookmark this page and check back soon. This is the humble beginning of a glorious transformation.
(Note: I also write The Zen Bassist on Blogger; at this time, it is my intent that both blogs will carry the content. The Zen Bassist blog preceded this one, and I will post to both in an attempt to reach the audiences of both Blogger and WordPress.)
I like a nice length of leather when I’m slapping away on the bottom end . . . and thus ends my poor innuendo in honor of the “Fifty Shades of Grey” movie coming out next week. I really ought to actually read that book.
I’m not a paid endorser, I’m barely and rarely even a paid musician – so my endorsement comes from my actual usage. I used to think about as much about my straps as I do my strings – I avoided the cheapest offerings, but beyond that, I didn’t see that it mattered a whole lot. I would typically go for some poly-backed Planet Waves strap that had a cool design; I had a Planet Waves leather strap and a Levy’s suede strap for those times I wanted to class it up, but really didn’t give it much thought.
It was actually an acoustic guitar that inspired me to upgrade – that, and an insane buy at Guitar Center (which was possibly the first domino to fall, years ago, in the chain that led to their demise). I found this nice, thick, wide, soft leather strap for under $20, can’t remember the actual price, but I remember that I was expecting the price to ring up significantly higher when I checked out. The quality was noticeably superior to everything around it. The price turned out to be correct.
Thus was born my fascination with Franklin straps.
I think I’ve picked up a Franklin strap for every bass or guitar I’ve bought since then. I passed initially on the Franklin strap for a recent acquisition; the sunburst finish and loads of chrome had me thinking 70’s funk machine, so I picked up a decent black leather strap with a funky, western-style stitching (I think it’s a Levy’s); it’s a nice strap, but I was still just monitoring ebay auctions, and just today picked up another Franklin strap that will go with this bass; the honey strap with chocolate ends, and the floral print tooling, will complement my funk machine quite appropriately.
But it’s not just the style that appeals. First, the leather is soft. Like, baby’s bottom soft, or rabbit fur soft. It feels luxurious. I have a couple of cotton straps as well, and again – softest material in the guitar accessory world.
Not only does it feel nice to the touch, but it wins where it counts – it’s a dream to wear, especially for a bass player. Most of my Franklin straps are 3″ wide, and the leather is thick, yet supple. The thickness I feel absorbs some of the weight better, while the width better distributes it. Whether jamming or gigging, when I’m going to be playing for several hours, I know my fingers will probably wear out before my shoulder does. The more comfortable I am, the longer I can play.
The only complaint I have is in the length. It’s a purely leather strap, and the adjustment is done by weaving the tail end on the end of the strap – but this can only do so much, there is no adjustable buckle like you find on other, cheaper straps. For style, I love it – but with a bass, the Franklin strap forces me to wear it slung low. Looks cooler, but does detract a bit from the comfort I described above.
So there’s my unsolicited, unpaid product pitch. Your strap does make a huge difference, and you can’t go wrong if you go Franklin.
Just a short blurb tonight, but wanted to share it tonight, while I’m still very much feeling it. I played on my upright for the first time in a couple weeks tonight, and I was horrendous trying to work through a jazz etude with the metronome. My timing was off, my sight reading was off . . . I was off. So I turned the metronome off.
In his book “Effortless Mastery,” Kenny Werner suggests that when working on a new piece, you have choices in playing all or sections, and playing in time or with perfection. It was a longer piece, with tricky timing issues, so playing “all” wasn’t in the cards. Playing “in time” wasn’t working all that great, either – probably in part because of the tricky timing issues involved. When I turned off the metronome, I managed to play perfectly.
While the metronome has its place (and a significant one), once freed of its persistent click, my playing was freed. I started to swing – on a piece that doesn’t really swing. It was magic.
I finished with the piece, and just jammed. And accidentally hit a harmonic. I remember when I first discovered harmonics – and maybe the happy accident sparked that original wonder. Maybe I was still on my magical high from my swinging triplets. I hit it again, this time deliberately. I played harmonics on other parts of the fretboard. It was joy. It was simple. It was magic. I loved just listening to tones, not with any idea of music, but just the tones themselves. I felt like a kid.
It’s nice to feel like a kid now and then, playing not with any purpose – but that’s what makes it “playing,” It was fun. It felt like play.
And that’s why we play.
Body of my NS Design NXT 5-string electric upright. I’m using it for jazz and classical bass studies, which brings a completely different dimension to my approach to the instrument. Guess that makes me an inter-dimensional bassist . . .
Fetishes, in the traditional/anthropological sense, are items from which people obtain spiritual or magical power. I often keep baseball/sports cards in my bass cases, to draw inspiration and power from a likeness of my heroes in other areas. As I start to learn the nuances of the upright electric double bass, I decided to draw on a new fetish.
Overlooking my practice area, right next to my little Beethoven figure and amid stacks of CD’s, the stern visage of Barry Bonds watches my every move.
Why Bonds?
Because Bonds (arguably was) (could have been) the greatest baseball player who ever lived. He could do it all: hit for average & power, was a great baserunner, an excellent fielder. He was one of the players who made you stop what you were doing when he came to bat, because something amazing might happen. Or he might just hit a dinger, which isn’t necessarily amazing, but it is a beautiful thing to watch.
Of course, despite arguably being the greatest baseball player who ever lived, Bonds is not in the Hall of Fame. Everyone knows the story, no need to repeat it here, there are plenty of places to find it if you aren’t familiar. In short, it is beyond a reasonable doubt that Bonds used steroids and/or other performance enhancing substances. The only real question is whether he knew he was doing it.
So why do I elect to have Bonds watch over my practice?
To remind me there are no shortcuts to true greatness.
This post needs to be done on this blog, and, well, I’m looking at the “Zero to Hero” blog challenge, and it recommended doing this. Since I’d already done an intro on my more personal blog, I decided I’d do one here.
“The Book of Five Strings” is meant to be my bass/music blog; it’s also the name of my bass book I started years ago, and one day will get back to. Music is my passion; in many ways, music is my religion. Music is the way I best connect to the universe. I wish I was better at it; heck, I wish I was as good at it as I used to be. Stupid ol’ life getting in the way.
If “Zero to Hero” is WordPress’s way to get us blogging, “The Book of Five Strings” is my own attempt to get back to being the bass player I used to be, and pushing forward to becoming the bass player I’ve always known I can be.
My playing is partially technical, but more spiritual. Obviously I’m influenced by Asian philosophy; the works of Chuang-Tzu changed my whole perspective on life, the works of Miyamoto Musashi not only provided the name for this blog, but introduced me to the entire samurai ethic (and a wealth of samurai cinema). I try to approach the bass by feeling the Way move through me, to use the instrument as an extension and expression of my own being, to take my playing as a way to better know 10,000 things about life.
I hope to reach others interested in infusing a spiritual element to their music, others who are looking to expand their playing. I hope to use this blog as my own method of accountability; if I’m going to write regularly about my playing, I have to be playing, I have to be thinking about my playing. I would love to gain readers on a similar quest, but if I keep myself on task, that accomplishes its own purpose.
My new bass project – an Ibanez SR-1200. I’ve only wanted one for about 15 years. It needs a little TLC, but will make a fine zen bass.
The Book of Five Strings 