Practicing

Nate and Ben of Iska Dhaaf chat with Sam Miller about their latest album: “I think writing about dark things is healthy. Our first album had themes about drone warfare and disconnection. The new EP is more about communication and wanting to be close to others, even though we often fall short.”

I asked all the members of Chicharra, a band I’m in, to come up with three questions for another player. And it’s like they’ve been giving interviews their whole lives. Their curiosity about the nuances of how music is made, how the other people in our band-fam experience practice and performance, was so spot-on. I loved hearing them talk shop.

You can study music theory until your right brain bleeds but that still does not mean you can write a song, or that the song will be “good.” To start writing, you need to keep playing.

Over time, our choices start to form a theme, an overarching message to the world about us and what we stand for. I think about it like a motto on a coat of arms, or the mission of an artistic ministry. What does our work stand for?

Our advice for aspiring musicians and artists: 1) Trust your instincts and find a project where you can put some of that trust in the people you play with. It’s like magic. 2) Hold yourself and your collaborators to the “Don’t be a Dick” Golden Rule. 3) Surround yourself with kind people who inspire you.

Moments of discovery come when you are tuned-in and not thinking about your own performance. This can come naturally after playing with a band over time, but it’s also easy to become worn out from the repetition of playing the same songs over and over again.

When my band would get together for practice and our guitar player would use more than one pedal we would point and laugh and say things like, “Get a load of him! He thinks he’s in Oktober People!”

My boyfriend has recently started a band with his friends. Unfortunately it is heavy metal. Not only do the practices disrupt our home life but they recently had their first show and I kinda hated it. What should I do? Tell him and hurt his feelings, or keep lying to him?

One human artist with all the feelings and occasional depression and anxiety cannot—CONSISTENTLY—do all of those things in 12 hours. What you CAN do is figure out how to use your time without burning yourself out. You will get done what you can get done and let the rest go. This is the only way to break the cycle.

I would see local bands or touring bands where two members were dating, or even just a duet consisting of a couple, and I would think about what that might be like to drive around the country, just me and my partner…driving, playing, loving, driving, eating, playing, fucking…maybe sleeping at some point.

If you don’t believe in yourself, no one else will either. Do your work with conviction and authenticity, and what is more, be true to your word. You don’t have to be a perfectionist, you just have to do what you say you are going to do.

Use that part of your brain which destroys methods and rebels against how other people do things. Do whatever you want. Bang on it. Slap it. The important thing is that you FEEL it and you stop worrying about playing the damn thing.

I didn’t tell any of my friends about this ghostwriting project because of the embarrassment that, for pennies, I sold my soul to a get-rich-quick paleo bunghole.

I tirelessly played with that drum set, not only from sitting on the throne with sticks banging away, but exploring every nook and cranny of the instrument with screwdrivers, drum keys and WD-40 in hand.

Practice a lot and make it fun. If it seems like work, you are screwed. If you practice for hours on end without having fun, then what is the point?

I have always been a fairly spur of the moment person. With how busy my schedule has become, however, scheduling is now absolutely essential.