Slappity-Tappity

First, I think I need to acknowledge some kind of spiritual debt to Mike Doughty for the faux onomatopoeia in my title. It's supposed to represent the various clicks, clacks, thumps and pops those bass guitar videos I mentioned in a previous post sought to purvey to the young bassists of my time. All kinds of secret, mystical knowledge into the advanced world of bass wizardry was promised, if only the young student would dig deep inside themselves and glean its secrets.

I'm not bashing or discounting these videos, really. I owned a fair share of them, practiced my scales duly, and promptly realized that I'd probably never use them in the bands I've been in. Except for the occasional chordal backup in a song, this has been the case. More than often, I've plucked (and sometimes slapped) my part and saved the flashy stuff for practice or the annoyance of bandmates ("Hey, this is what your song would sound like if I played it like this? Doesn't this sound GREAT?!"). Since I don't see a solo album anytime soon ("SWEATY B MELTS YOUR FACE WITH SPEED!"), this is probably how the situation will remain.

I bring up this situation because, in the course of my work with IMN, I came across a guitarist (I assume) who was looking for a throwback to 1987's style. He bemoaned the fact that there were no more bassists left who could launch the fireworks necessary to complement his music, and he added that such folks were way more prevalent "back in the day." I wasn't in Indianapolis during said time frame, so I don't assume to discount the evidently huge pool of talent present when he first started playing. What I do take issue with is the claim that the talent has gone away.

At least from my perception, there's been a marked shift in musicians from performers to songwriting between the days of Warrant to now. Most magazines oriented towards the guitar and bass crowd advertised learning the fastest licks and increasing your speed to hypersonic levels (yes, I mean creating sound faster than sound - it's THAT FAST). One memorable bass ad even advertised a blistering 37-notes-per-second speed rate (I guess if that's more important to you than the actual notes being played, more power to you). Since then, though, there are more people in bands, and these bands don't require the aforementioned face-melting speed to get their songs across. That kind of music is still out there (Hey, look! Shrapnel Records, former home of Racer X and Tony MacAlpine is still around! I LOVED their ads in Guitar For The Practicing Musician!), but I believe (again, without empirical proof) that musicians are more targeted towards integrating their playing into a song.

Case in point for me is the music of artists like Seth Horan, Michael Manring, Steve Lawson, Gonzalo Silva, Trip Wamsley, and more. These folks feature exactly the technique my throwback-jersey-friend wanted, but they've bent it to serve their own songs. It's not a launching pad for their tapping rocket, it's the structure built by their technique.

This shouldn't be regarded as a tired entry into the "technique vs. feel" war fought for lo these many years. We've lost a lot of good soldiers in this conflict, and I'm not gonna lose you too, man! LIVE, DAMMIT! LIVE!!!

Sorry. What I meant to say was that there's room for both - just make some good music and we can slap and tap all day. Or I can play your root-fifth stuff, too. I'm okay with that.

I'm going to turn on the Q-tron and whammy pedal before long, though. Just so you know.