Lunch With The Fat Man | 1, 2, 3

"Unlocking the Subconscious Doors Blocking Your jam sessions. Or: Your Name in This Space $25. Contact the Fat Man"

Hi. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable on the couch there. So, you haven't had a good jam in a while, eh? Well since you can't tell Dr. Fat Man how you feel, I will tell you, and you will feel better soon. Right? Right.

There was a time in your life when informal, disorganized jamming was a natural, cathartic, fun process. Maybe it was the very thing you lived for and were great at, and you didn't need advice from anyone, even the Fat Man, to know how it was done. It seemed simple enough -- get everyone you knew together in the garage, maybe get a little high, plug into the one amp, turn it up all the way, and annoy Mom. But since the band got together, or perhaps, since the band fell apart, it's just been too hard to get a good jam together. It's been hard to get a good group of people in one room, and when you have, it's been a musical and emotional disaster. Something's wrong, and you think you might have lost something; an innocence, or a handle on your youth or your music, a great group of friends, or some mysterious rock and roll energy that only comes to each player for a short part of his life, and then disappears like the Armadillo. Depressed? Good. You 're getting smart.

When you learn something important, it almost always feels like you've lost something important -- like innocence, or energy, or a working model of the world. Learn to look for that feeling of loss -- learn to pay attention to it and love it, because it's a sign that you're changing your view of the world to accommodate new information. You don't lose your youth by experiencing these feelings. You extend your adolescence by continuing to accept new input and be open to new outlooks even though they upset your old ones. Now as your producer and doctor, I command you to gather up these depressions, these losses and shattered innocences, laugh in their faces, and thank God that they're signs that your mind is alive and changing. Now then, what was it that you learned that stopped your jamming, and what further can you learn to start it up again, better than before?

Maybe you realized that some of your jamming friends were jerks. It's not only possible, but likely, considering the strange attraction the musical world has on jerks. But there are plenty of people out there who can jam who aren't socially crippled. Maybe you realized that Mom and your neighbors aren't quite the enemy you liked to think of them as. Good --There are more worthy foes. And any jam where you don't get paid is a strike against commercialized music and the decentralization of the entertainment tastes of the world. Maybe you realized that music is better as an art than as a weapon. Seems good to me. Volume, anyway, is a pretty lousy weapon compared to effective lyrics and revolutionary music. Maybe you realized that professional musicians such as yourself have to be serious about music, and jamming inconsistent with that mindset. You're half right, but don't clam up and stop learning there. Jamming can be an exercise to insure that you don't sellout your musical tastes and roots.

Doing "Music For Money" always requires that you compromise some of your musical values. There is some real give and take every time you consider pleasing the audience. Every time you make a set list, or dress up for the stage, or don't stop in the middle of a song to work out a riff, you're making a decision that effects your music in a way that would never happen if you were playing completely for yourself. This is good -- it's called professionalism. Jamming is the way to remember and anchor yourself to your favorite musical ideas so that, through all of these compromises, your own musical tastes and loves will always shine through.

These rules for jamming have worked out well for the Fat Man and the Tuesday Night Gods of Music, a weekly jam that's gone on for about seven years:

RULES FOR THE JAM (tell these to the people you invite)

1. You can't take it seriously.
   
2. A six pack of beer helps.
   

SUGGESTIONS FOR JAMMERS (think about these yourself)

1. Jam on songs rather than chord progressions, since all songs contain chord progressions, you can break up those long instrumental jams with words and endings.
   
2. Suggest jamming on songs that you know and love, or that someone else knows and loves. This insures that at least someone is touching his roots and loving the music.
   
3. Don't insist on playing the songs "right". Since the songs are only being used as a way to play whatever style, beat, form, and key seems most natural, Medleys are great -- I've always wanted to do "Stir It Up" into "Here Comes The Sun," since the chords are the same, and you can pivot on the common lyric, "…Little Darling…”
   
4. The only thing to think about when you play is LISTENING to everyone else. No matter how bad the players, a groove will come from somewhere, and you can lock into that source. If the groove doesn't come after a song or so, you can stop listening and set a groove yourself. They'll follow you.
   
5. Bring a couple of lyric/chord sheets, in triplicate, of songs you like, just in case nobody knows any songs.
   
6. Be encouraging. Never howl like a hound if someone sings badly. If someone is blaring badly, ask him sheepishly to turn down. If he doesn't mind, you can jam with him and if he does, he won't show up to your next jam anyway, no hard feelings. Remember, in order to deserve to play with people better than yourself, you have to be willing to play with people worse than yourself. I always turn down a little when Horowitz comes over to jam, and he doesn't seem to mind me.
   

Oops -- times up. Feel better? Great. My secretary will book your next appointment.

Next page | "Sour Power: The Power Of Negative Thinking"
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