Music Talk: My own Villain Origin Story

So, I write about music, as you know. Mostly, I write about the local music scene in Gettysburg, and have reviewed several of the local musicians, and some of their albums. Aside from joking about it, I rarely talk about my own musical attempts.

And that’s appropriate. Because there’s not a lot to say. You can decide for yourself if I can write, but I can tell you with some authority that I’m not much of a musician, though I’ve dabbled a lot.

I picked up a guitar first, in the way a lot of people in my generation did. You had some friends in high school that played and even tried to put together a band or two. So, you saved up and eventually got a used guitar and perhaps got a book from the library or had one of your friends show you a few chords and the intro riff to “another one bites the dust”, or “smoke on the water”.

That’s about as far as I got back then. Though I certainly had the hair for it, and I went to a lot of concerts, I didn’t do much with learning to play. I was more interested in reading a lot and learning to write back then, while I was busy having no idea at all what I wanted to do after high school.

It wasn’t until almost 10 years later, after my Sonny Rollins moment I described in a previous article, that I decided to actually try to make music myself.

So I bought a used tenor saxaphone.  I don’t know why I didn’t just spend a tenth as much and buy a guitar, which I had some experience with. I just dove in.

So I learned to read music, and how to hold the mouthpiece in my mouth and blow into it so the notes came out. Then I learned how to press the buttons and levers to make the different notes come out the other end of the horn. I went at it for a few months then gradually got sidetracked with other things. I still sounded a little wonky with some very comical tweets and honks coming out, so eventually, it ended up on its stand and gathered dust.

Interestingly, I decided to sell it, so I brought it to a local music store to see what they’d give me for it. It turned out there were about 10 things wrong with it, so I like to think that’s why I struggled with it as much as I did…who knows? But I did know some music theory and now I could read music. In the interim time, I’d also taught myself woodworking. It occurred to me when a friend asked me to fix a large ding in the body of his Stratocaster, that I could actually fix electric guitars, and what the hell, maybe I could even play it. Seemed a lot easier than playing a sax (it is and it isn’t, it turns out).

So I bought a used Telecaster. The greatest invention of the twentieth century.

I got further along with guitar than I did with the sax, mostly because I was working on them and even building them at that point, so I always had guitars around. I never really was consistent, and I wanted to try all kinds of things (fingerpicking, strumming, weird jazz chords, or simple folk stuff). I did a little of everything and so never got very good at anything.

I even bought a keyboard because my friend, Tony Messano, certainly seemed to know what he was doing on that. Really, though, I wanted to dive a little deeper in music theory and it’s a LOT easier to figure that out when all the notes are just laid out there in front of you.

It didn’t mean I ended up playing piano well, either. Tony encouraged me to try singing too…which, looking back, I’m pretty sure he was screwing with me.

I like singing, but I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who likes it when I do it. I’ve wrecked a few of Hopeless Semantics sets by busting out when they play a certain Harry Chapin song, and some of you out there are survivors of my rare open mic performances. I believe there are support groups available.

So…full disclosure. I know a good deal ABOUT music… have listened to a ton of it, live and recorded. I can fix pretty much anything on an electric guitar, and most things on an acoustic if I have the right tools. But, actually playing music…?

Well, let’s see. I will call it the Rob Scale. one to ten… one being, I think I’ve seen a music instrument in a picture once, and I’m told they make noise… ten being Rob Leib might book you to play a gentle Thursday at Ploughman.

I’m furthest along on guitar…maybe a 4. 5 if I practice for a couple months straight (which I never do). Piano, I’m a 2. I know it makes noise when I poke at it… and I have barely reached the point where I can get my left hand to do something different than my right hand at the same time. Singing…well, I’ll let Mike Slusser tell you that, he being one of my most prominent victims. He even performed with me at the open mic once…clearly he’s trying to do good deeds that are painful in order to get into heaven. (I’ve even had the chance to sing with the aforementioned Rob at open mic,  and even sang “night they drove old dixie down” with Ben Wenk on stage once, in front of a crowd. It will most likely be the crowning highlight of my entire musical career, and if so, I’m ok with that.)

That leaves the Tenor sax. I haven’t rated myself on that because, well, much to my lovely companion’s shock, and the horror of my dog…I bought one and started on it again. I don’t know why. Maybe it was Sonny’s passing, or maybe because I’ve been listening to a lot of jazz lately while I’m writing… but I’m giving it another go. Somewhere, Paul Austerlitz is feeling uncomfortable, as if there is a disturbance in the force… my apologies.

I also still have a keyboard, and an embarrassing number of guitars.

Bottom line is, I love music, even though I’m certainly not a musician, per se. I spend a lot more time writing, and I think I’m a little better at that, but I’ll leave you to decide. It would be easier for you to decide if you check out my substack (tomdudra.substack.com…incoming shamless plug). I’d love to see you there. I talk about history and it’s supportive of a novel that I’m trying to write while I’m busy not practicing music. I have a newsletter like you’re supposed to on substack, and I put up short stories and may start putting up chunks of the novel eventually. I have a decent amount of readers, but not a ton of subscribers (its free, did I mention?).

Flatted Fifth merch available, too….just saying.

That all said, do what you want. I hope you’ll read it and like it because I want you to read and like everything I write, but what do I know?

Last thing I’ll say is, I have some fun making jokes about myself and about musicians that I write about…but every one of the people I’ve written about is incredibly talented and, unlike me, they dug the ditch and pulled up the skills that I never spent the time honing. Maybe I’ll get competent with my horn or even with a guitar one day (less likely with the singing, Gods help me) It’s like they say… those who can’t teach? Well, those who can’t…and also happen to be disagreeable assholes and so, can’t really teach either… they become writers.

Yesterday was Jeff Beck’s birthday. We need the Yardbird back on the board at Ploughman. Go in there, listen to the music played there, drink the wonderful ciders, and pester Ben and Gabe to get the Yardbird back.

Don’t pester Courtney, though. I’m afraid of Courtney.