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Double Bass The Talent Code, and concepts related to it

@Hiddy, Chris, Ed et.al

I will prolly read this book. However, from what I'm picking up in this discussion, the book seems like it's promoting a more efficient pedagogical approach, or possibly attempting to answer what is the best way to learn something. However, again, just me spitballin here, sooner or later there's lots of personal work that has to be done in order to achieve any substantial results and like Ed alluded to (paraphrase) Some guys are just blessed in ways many of us mere mortals are not!
 
Hopefully this is on topic -- and yeah, I better read the book:

A "gift" is something that gets somebody from Point A to Point B lots faster than most people. But once a gifted person reaches their Point B they have to work just as hard as anybody else to reach Point C. This supports two conclusions:

1. Itzhak Perlman's Point B is a place I might never get to in my life no matter how hard I work. Same with Gary Karr, Michael Brecker, whomever. But they went to work after they got to Point B.

2. Conversely, hard work can allow hard workers to catch up to gifted people who coast. I have seen people who as teenagers couldn't carry a tune in a paper bag work their ass off and nail auditions and become employed symphony musicians. Maybe they don't get as far as Itzhak Perlman but they got farther than some gifted people who coasted.

"Talent is cheap and many talents treat themselves cheaply." -- Bill Evans, in his forward to Gil Goldstein's "The Jazz Composer's Companion."
 
As I'm sure DURRL can attest, Jamie thinks he's a reincarnation of Bird.

Yep, right down to the initials. Little CP went to the camps one year and blew everybody's mind.

All to say, sometimes when folks like Chris and Kenny talk about music, it's kind of like fish talking about swimming in water. They were born with an innate sense of water and how to move through it and don't really understand why the rest of us don't just "know" these things the way they do.

Very well put.

To me the true value of TB is this type of thread. This where the art happens and how it happens (not whether you use the same strings as Dave Holland).
The whole concept that somehow there is a shortcut to knowing is the crux. Knowing is the sum of everything you put in BUT the intention of that effort is the key. Time spent (be it 10,000 hours or whatever) is still a given, but in and of itself, has virtually nothing to do with it. I really appreciate having this resource (TB) to help me on the path and threads like this are what inspires me to keep striving to understand this language and how our instrument fits in it.

I totally agree, and this is why I'm still on the site after all these years even when a lot of great people who used to be here a lot (or just more) have largely left. There are some things like this that are fun to talk about with other players who have similar goals. Stuff like this is what drew me to this place from day one. Keep it coming!

@Hiddy, Chris, Ed et.al

I will prolly read this book. However, from what I'm picking up in this discussion, the book seems like it's promoting a more efficient pedagogical approach, or possibly attempting to answer what is the best way to learn something. However, again, just me spitballin here, sooner or later there's lots of personal work that has to be done in order to achieve any substantial results and like Ed alluded to (paraphrase) Some guys are just blessed in ways many of us mere mortals are not!

That may or may not be, and the truth is that we'll never know the final answer to that. BUT, the whole nature/nurture thing is what the book is about, and even if you don't agree with the percentage assigned to "nurture" that the author obviously espouses, there is no denying that nurture is a large part of all equations of this type; that said, the book is really about how to learn more efficiently, which makes it incredibly interesting and useful to me, especially at this point in my life when time seems like the most valuable thing there is or could ever be. :)
 
Hopefully this is on topic -- and yeah, I better read the book:

A "gift" is something that gets somebody from Point A to Point B lots faster than most people. But once a gifted person reaches their Point B they have to work just as hard as anybody else to reach Point C. This supports two conclusions:

1. Itzhak Perlman's Point B is a place I might never get to in my life no matter how hard I work. Same with Gary Karr, Michael Brecker, whomever. But they went to work after they got to Point B.

2. Conversely, hard work can allow hard workers to catch up to gifted people who coast. I have seen people who as teenagers couldn't carry a tune in a paper bag work their ass off and nail auditions and become employed symphony musicians. Maybe they don't get as far as Itzhak Perlman but they got farther than some gifted people who coasted.

"Talent is cheap and many talents treat themselves cheaply." -- Bill Evans, in his forward to Gil Goldstein's "The Jazz Composer's Companion."

^^^ Said better than I could. Thanks, Sam!
 
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...All to say, sometimes when folks like Chris and Kenny talk about music, it's kind of like fish talking about swimming in water. They were born with an innate sense of water and how to move through it and don't really understand why the rest of us don't just "know" these things the way they do.

Being aware of what you don't understand is a huge deal. There is plenty that I'm aware of and that I can appreciate without really understanding it directly. Mostly because hearing those who do, sounds both beautiful and meaningful to my ear. It's like listening to someone talk about something they love or the sound of the wind in the pines or a babbling brook, etc. It just sounds right.
 
Thanks to Chris for bringing this topic to the boards for greater discussion.

At this stage in my learning career, I am most interested in the "ignition" aspect of TTC. I have read the book a while back when Chris first brought it up on one of the Misc threads, and am re-reading it now as it so happens.

My first concern was one of physiology, in that it seemed to clearly state that the ability to produce strong pathways or myelin conduits (my words, not the book's) diminish over time. It promotes the idea that the formative years are the strongest for developing skills to the great levels the gifted young musicians/athletes cited in the book achieve.

I have come to the instrument quite late in life by those terms, and suspect that even my experience on Electric Bass that lead up to taking on DB, did not necessarily include "deep practice" so that I feel that I am constantly re-learning how to play either instrument. It's like a reset button occurs every time I shift my focus from one instrument to the other. (Or one class to the next e.g. Western Tonal Harmony vs. Brazilian Ensemble, etc.)

However, even when I am overrun with classes at school, never-ending tasks in my non-profit performing arts day job, gigs, and over all exhaustion, I have noticed that receiving encouragement/nurturing and coaching from a mentor of some sort can be temporarily energizing.

I am unable to afford stable private instruction at the moment, so I try to get into this type of feedback loop on the occasional lesson or workshop.

My school brought in a Jazz Improvisation and Composition Workshop with Joel Harrison and "Spirit House" feat. Paul Hanson, Cuong Vu, Kermit Driscoll and Brian Blade to speak and perform. The week or two after that episode was extremely productive and focused.

The question I am trying to answer for myself is how to "ignite" *myself* consistently. Especially with my chronic lack of sleep and opportunities for practice time. The other component is, how to practice most efficiently to retain the information and technical skills, while advancing to the next plateau.
 
My first concern was one of physiology, in that it seemed to clearly state that the ability to produce strong pathways or myelin conduits (my words, not the book's) diminish over time. It promotes the idea that the formative years are the strongest for developing skills to the great levels the gifted young musicians/athletes cited in the book achieve.

That is no doubt true, but this can be said for so much of life. We have a physical prime after which our powers gradually diminish; and in this sense, "physical" includes our mental hardware. Past a certain point, nothing is as flexible as is once was, and progress comes slower. On the other hand, if we are lucky, we do keep living after our physical primes. This being the case, to me this means I have two choices: I can either give up on learning (or be pessimistic about it) because I'm not as good at it as I once was, or I can learn to improve the way I go about it in order to maximize the potential that is still there. The concepts in TTC (I feel) are helping me to find ways to do the latter.

I spent most of yesterday attending/playing at the funeral of a friend who was younger than I am. His wife asked me to play some music at the service, some on bass, but also some solo classical piano. The bass part was easy, but the Mozart (piano) called for a skill I never fully developed, even back in college. When I first started practicing the movement this past weekend, I was in a bit of a panic about being able to scrape off enough rust to learn the music. I used many of the TTC concepts in working up that music this week, and did a passable job of it. The things that really helped weren't anything that any smart musician practicing for a performance always does - super slow practice, analyzing which passages need the most work and practicing them 10 times more than the easier bits, choreographing the physical movements in slow motion away from the instrument while mentally singing the result, etc. - but somehow the knowledge of what was happening inside the hardware in my brain made all of it seem a lot more purposeful, if that makes any sense. In addition, the setting made me realize that even though I might never achieve great heights as a pianist (or as X_________ fill in your own blank), it's a beautiful gift just to be involved in the process of learning anything no matter what the outcome.

I have come to the instrument quite late in life by those terms...

Me too. :)

...I feel that I am constantly re-learning how to play either instrument.

I feel the same. But I think it has always been and will always be this way for learning anything. Learning gains depth with experience, and I think this is true no matter how good at it you are. I'll never forget meeting Kenny Barron about 5 years ago and asking him why he was choosing to play so much solo piano of late. His answer was that after listening to a solo piano record he had made, he felt that he wasn't a very good solo piano player so he decided to book a lot more solo gigs in order to get better. This blew my mind, because on hearing that very same record when it came out, I had started to consider him one of the worlds greatest solo piano players. Talk about inspiration!

However, even when I am overrun with classes at school, never-ending tasks in my non-profit performing arts day job, gigs, and over all exhaustion, I have noticed that receiving encouragement/nurturing and coaching from a mentor of some sort can be temporarily energizing.

See above. If that didn't ignite me, then I would have had to check and see if I was made of asbestos. Totally agree with your point.



The question I am trying to answer for myself is how to "ignite" *myself* consistently. Especially with my chronic lack of sleep and opportunities for practice time. The other component is, how to practice most efficiently to retain the information and technical skills, while advancing to the next plateau.

Ignition is important, but as you say, life gets in the way. The second part - practicing more efficiently - is where the TC concepts seem to be really helping. In my estimation, if you are practicing as consistently as life allows, then you are already "ignited", and it comes down to haw to maximize the time that you do get to spend in the shed. Yesterday kind of brought that home to me as well for other reasons.
 
I think the only thing that keeps me hungry to practice is doing it for some other reason than it's own sake, or that it's "for your own good". Yes there's endless amounts of things I need to learn, but nothing kills the fire faster than to having to consistently work on something that you're not passionate about. Yes, we're all passionate about music, but for instance, I know I need to work on being able to play advanced scales. I don't know lydian dominant inside out, have facility for playing multiple tumbao patterns, odd meters, etc. Yes those things are important and you can't/shouldn't always work on things you like, but you also have feed your curiosity.

I think one of the best things I did for myself was to stop taking "stable private instruction". Not because it's not good but because I'm chasing my curiosity 90% of the time now. I don't burn out anymore. I still go in for an occasional checkup, take clinics/classes, but I don't need a teacher to validate what I"m studying anymore. That's what Talkbass is for! :p Well at least til run into a problem I can't figure out and need outside opinion from a local teach. Certainly, I think it's hard when you're strapped into a music program with a particular curriculum they're making you learn. It's harder to avoid the non-Master Coaches in that environment. If I knew I thrived in that environment, I'd take the same path.

As for time constraints, I'm gravitating more and more away from the instrument and more toward mental practice. Visualization, taking things apart in my mind, singing, stuff I don't need the instrument for. I just had a very busy winter (ski season, 2 ensembles, work, etc) and was still able to make progress with minimal practice with instrument in hand. There's no hiding that I'm a cube jockey by day.

I take breaks during the day to drop into that "deep practice" state outside of the 'shed. As everybody likes to point out, if you can't hear it in your head, you certainly can't play it. If I'm lucky, I might be able to squeeze out an extra 30-45 min a day of deep practice without the instrument. The book reinforces this idea when Coyle brings up the example Russian tennis academy that produced Sharapova. How they don't even practice with a ball and concentrate on form and visualization. Visualization is huge in the ski racing/competition world. If you can visualize, you certainly can auralize. Auralization/Visualization is also huge with helping me to chunk new information. Stepping back, I think 90% of what I do for practice is learning how to chunk things together, breaking things apart and learning how to re-chunk them in a different configuration. Chunking is your friend.
 
I'm roughly half way through the book now.

The idea of chunking is something I thought most musicians did naturally to learn songs - especially by ear. I'm always doing it in the book I'm working out of right now - that is learn part A, then B...then combine. I kind of have to because while I can read just fine, I don't site read fast enough to blast through sheets.

One thing I have tried (and only in the last week) is dropping the metronome down to 40bpm and repeating the same etudes I've been working on at much higher tempos previously. I was surprised at how sloppy I was at first - especially shifting. It seemed backwards. I hadn't practiced anything that slow since I felt I'd moved past certain tempos in my practice material. The whole concept gave me a new perspective on skill building routines.
 
I think the advantage of slowing things down is that it forces you to really be able to modulate what you're doing at a fine-grained level. There's more room for error when things are slow. That's a great exercise.

One thing I don't like about the book is that he goes through many examples, but glosses it over when it comes to actual learning methodology. I suppose he's just a writer and not an educator so he's not so into that aspect. One pet peeve is the focus on myelin. Yes it's important and that's what makes things happen, but from a practical standpoint as Drew points out, you have zero control over how that myelin physically gets developed. All you can do is try to find the best approach that works for you and pray for the best.

Anyways, chunking is a basic idea but I think you can expand on it in a big way. Of course, once you have the ability to sing a melody in your head, you can start chunking the fingers for that melody along it. Ok, still a basic idea. Don't just stop there. Now what about adding arpeggios? Guide tones? Inverted arps? You can keep going on and on and on: counter point, parallel lines, chord extensions, etc etc.

I think the common pedagogy is to practice it in a vacuum save for the chord changes. I've never encountered any teacher in the flesh that espoused switching arbitrarily from playing a melody into a study concept and back. No mention of trying to give new concepts a sense of context. It's usually just play the concept against the changes - and nothing else. Once the bulkhead door is closed, forget it - that stuff never comes out. OTOH, Why not link the melody to these concepts? There's no reason why you shouldn't link one building block with another. In a mental model, it only makes sense. By all means, it still takes time to link the material together; this is still a lot of work.

But I think that's why DURRLs handout to his students about singing melodies while walking kicked off something really big for me. To the point now where melody is king and leads to a lot of great possibilities. Take a step back and that's kin of what Joe Solomon's approach is working through. Taking one head, practicing slowly (deep practice), working at it from multiple angles.

Add to that the act of transposing to any key - they really gets you the ability to modulate what you've learned to every aspect of the neck and every key. The priority still is also to be able to modulate a tune in your head. How "All The Things" sounds in C sounds differently to me than it does in G - and to be able to conjure up all those permutations in your head makes a big difference.

I think also the approach in which many of the other Tristano students (Konitz, Warne Marsh) also echoes of the book. Cracking open "Primacy of the Ear" and reading bits of it where I am now screams of deep practice.
 
I just finished TTC. Overall the message is good but the end starts to get redundant and laborious at times. I just started reading the first couple pages of Book Of Talent. IMO the two books could've probably been merged together. The other thing is that books like this - they have a little bit more of a rah rah cheerleader approach. Makes me a bit wary as I tend to trust things that are a little bit more objective and discuss where their premise may not work. But I doubt if he would sell as many copies if Coyle did that. Certainly, it's not an academic work.

For all intents and purposes, there isn't that much practical information in the first book. A lot of it is common sense. Learn things slower and you will have better command over any subject. Conversely, the opposite of it is attempting to learn quickly and glossing over the details. Of course slower is better: slow and steady wins the race. And learning efficiently is learning efficiently; I don't need to know about myelin to know that a methodology is effective.

For me I think any new perspectives mostly revolve around affirming that visualization works very well and a new approach towards being "tested". That performers being put in competitive situations often tend to perform better in the long run. Obviously that not a new idea but to practice things in the shed that raises the risks and difficulty level especially since its a safe environment to make mistakes.

For example: when reviewing tunes, I'll allow myself only one attempt at playing it again. Maybe head in/1 chorus walking/one chorus solo/head out. No chorus after chorus of playing it til the mistakes go away. Same thing goes with transposition on the spot or changing it to a different meter, tempo, or feel. Imagine I'm doing it in front of an audience under the same pressure. If mistakes are make, so be it. Then once it's over, stop and look at where I made repetitive errors, quickly correct, maybe play it once more and then move on to the next tune. It's probably better to get accustomed to the pressure while in the shed.
 
I'm surprised you finished it. Did you really read it cover to cover, test it all out in real life, absorb and get solid results? How could that be?

Take the best you find right away from these self help styled manifestos, leave the rest. Skim it, and put it down. Go back in a few months and see if the method really applies. treat it as study material, not gospel. I think the book is prolly good for getting psyched for new challenges or endeavors, to maintain placement or control in challenging work environment, maybe even to help with substance abuse recovery..I don't doubt that there is some pieces of valuable wisdom and common sense put forth..

I told my teacher to buzz off when he adamantly required "The Inner Game of Music" for serious study and continuation in his private study program. What a POS that book is. He was going through the second of what would be turn out to be 4 divorces at the time..before he died....whatever..he was a brilliant musician but a terrible example for living to his students..

Hard as that was to turn away from him, it turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made, at least as a musician.
 
I finished the book this weekend. I have to admit, it got so repetitive that it was hard to finish. It felt like I was reading an opinion article in a magazine 10 times over. That's probably due in part to the fact that he's trying to appeal the book to so many groups - music, arts, sports, etc.

Having said that, I did find a few things early on in the book that I highlighted to incorporate into my practice time. If anything, reading books like these can help one refocus or break out of stale practice habits.

The neuroscience theories behind it don't interest me nearly as much as finding out how the best in the world focus their practice routines to get better.
 
I just finished TTC. Overall the message is good but the end starts to get redundant and laborious at times. I just started reading the first couple pages of Book Of Talent. IMO the two books could've probably been merged together. The other thing is that books like this - they have a little bit more of a rah rah cheerleader approach. Makes me a bit wary as I tend to trust things that are a little bit more objective and discuss where their premise may not work. But I doubt if he would sell as many copies if Coyle did that. Certainly, it's not an academic work.

For all intents and purposes, there isn't that much practical information in the first book. A lot of it is common sense. Learn things slower and you will have better command over any subject. Conversely, the opposite of it is attempting to learn quickly and glossing over the details. Of course slower is better: slow and steady wins the race. And learning efficiently is learning efficiently; I don't need to know about myelin to know that a methodology is effective.

I know what you mean and agree. Most of these types of books do this, especially the repetitive bit. For me, the big things I take away are that learning any skill involves the same brain processes; that what goes on in "talent hotbeds" should be paid attention to as something is clearly working; more attention on "chunking" is important; and last, that so many of the people most people consider "freakishly talented" actually got where they ended up by working their tails off at an early age.

As for the myelin part, I find it comforts me and gives me something to shoot for to know that I'm actually building and insulating neural pathways when I practice. Dunno why, but it does.

For me I think any new perspectives mostly revolve around affirming that visualization works very well and a new approach towards being "tested". That performers being put in competitive situations often tend to perform better in the long run. Obviously that not a new idea but to practice things in the shed that raises the risks and difficulty level especially since its a safe environment to make mistakes.

Also agree. I've also found that there's a "right brain/left brain" switch that I can throw when practicing that feels useful in the shed. I throw the switch with my eyes (right brain=closed, left brain=open) when practicing, but like your "visualization" example above, I consider "visualizing" to be a hybrid of the two - seeing but not seeing; performing but not performing. I think the latter is a good way to make us take things more seriously in the practice room, especially toward the later, more "finished" portion of the practice time.


These days on piano, the most useful thing is hierarchical: I know what my best/worst keys are, and I now start with the worst and spend the most time there. I have to do something twice without mistakes before I can move on to the next thing, and in the "bad" keys, this takes a while. By the time I get to the better ones, it's like rolling downhill.

I also like practicing a tune in each key right after i get done with the scale/arpeggio practice for that key. For example (this is piano stuff, but still):

For each key set the metronome at Q=100

- 2 hand scales in quarters, quarter triplets, 8ths, 8th triplets, 16ths; two octaves for the first three divisions, then 4 for the last two.
- Same for arpeggios.
- One hand shell and rootless voicings for a turnaround in that key, then 2 hand voicings.
- Add a turnaround pattern to the LH voicings; work it up slow, then double the speed by making the metronome clicks 2&4.
- Do the same for a tune, melody and solo.

On to next key...
 
Sorry, trying to be less verbose but not so succesful.

@8MORETOGO: Yeah, that last quarter of the book was very redundant. You could've stopped there so segued quickly into the 52 tips book at the Master Coaching section. I think the story about Tom Martinez was good but was very hard to get through after describing the KIPP school at length.

SEXYDURRLFRIEND said:
I have to do something twice without mistakes before I can move on to the next thing, and in the "bad" keys, this takes a while. By the time I get to the better ones, it's like rolling downhill.
When learning something new that's good, but I think there is a place to have mistakes and not have a chance for a do-over. I very much like the idea of making a mistake and not being able to take it back. I've been waiting until the next day for a second attempt, to see if I can redeem myself and avoid the mistake from the previous day. I would've stopped to understand where I went wrong prior to that but once a tune is learned, I think it's better to not keep repeating it until the mistakes are gone. I do better when that threat of screwing it up yet again is there and not being able to undo the problem.

Maybe I should rather say that if I can do something completely correct two days in a row, I can move on to the next tune (that I've been trying to play for the last couple of days). Embrace the mistake, understand the problem, then try again tomorrow.

Definitely one other tidbit in TTC is the re-affrimation that small games and exercises, played in a deep learning manner, can be extremely effective. I had a good friend go through improv comedy trained at a small chain of places called "Comedy Sports". http://www.comedysportz.com/

Through their training program she went from just ordinary person to a crazy-funny-life-of-party type. Guess what? It wasn't a innate talent, it was skills learned in a deep manner through master coaching and most of all small games that drills that completely rewired her brain and thinking. Watching the transformation over just a few weeks was amazing. We're talking Brazilian soccer school type of quality.

And just to push this idea I've brought up before, when I saw this Bobby McFerrin vid, I stole the the idea as a game.

No form, no chorus, no particular meter to adhere to. Something that could be played by yourself or with other people.

When playing it solitaire, I have to be able to correctly repeat the phrases I came up with - sometimes needing to slow it way down until it's been "learned". Lets say I start with a 2 bar phrase. Once the phrase has been "learned", come up with a complimentary 2 bar phrase and learn how to bounce back and forth between the two phrases. Then from there I have the option to come up with another 2 bar phrase, or better yet, come up with a 4 bar phrase that responds to the first two phrases, or abandon the entire structure and come up with a completely new phrase. Obviously the bigger challenge is to not let go of any of the previous phrases and keep trying to retain all of them.

Just a few sessions of this and it did wonders for my solo development. I can remember phrases and learn to assemble something that builds up rather than just noodle over a bunch of scales hoping somewhere a contour and a climax will present itself. There should be more of these types of games that can be played by yourself or with others. The bigger problem is having the respect of being a master coach or the respect to get others to try it with you.
 
The bigger problem is having the respect of being a master coach or the respect to get others to try it with you.

It isn't a problem if you have a natural talent for teaching, and truly want to share knowledge to help students progress. A good teacher will not tell you to foster an attitude that you must punish yourself for making mistakes. That is if they care about your development as a complete human being.

OTH, if the boot camp approach to study is your thing, you are going to do it no matter WHAT. You could be setting yourself up of deal with PTSD issues later on n your playing life...and that has a way of bleeding into the non musical aspects too.

I had the good fortune of some private sessions with Bobby McFerrin in SF right before he left town. A very natural and charitable teacher, at least he was at that time!
 
Not sure where you're coming from but nobody mentioned anything about boot camp or punishment for the mistakes. If you read the book it's about allowing mistakes to be made and fostering a good environment for learning. If you're reprogramming yourself it's cuz it's voluntary, not because you're in a boot camp situation.