 I used to hate music. Alright, that’s a slight exaggeration. But it’s true I dreaded going to piano lessons as a kid. (But to be fair, I dreaded going to any kind of lessons as a kid. I’ve always been the “I’ll do it myself” kind of girl.) Still, you’d assume someone aiming to become a musician loved music from the start, right? Well, my relationship with music hasn’t been “romantic” in the sense that it wasn’t love at first sight - it’s actually been more of a battle. I started piano lessons when I was seven, and as I said, I dreaded it. My parents forced me to go, I rarely payed attention, and I’m pretty sure it took at least 5 years for me to finish “Alfred’s Basic Piano Course Lesson Book”. (I thought it was as boring as it sounds but looking back, it was a great book.) Every week I had homework - usually eight bars of “Old McDonald Had A Farm” or something similar - and most weeks I avoided it. Even though I had a really cool teacher who I looked up to (still do), I was stubborn enough to do the bare minimum.
And then Guitar Hero was released. Stop laughing. My interest in music sparked when Guitar Hero was released. Growing up I listened to lots of Creed, which I loved, but I was beginning to recognize my own taste in music. I was actually learning about myself through playing this video game. Even though I knew it was just a dumb game, my nine-year-old self felt it was real. Heck, my imagination convinced me I was performing with Guns ‘N Roses, Nirvana, and Red Hot Chili Peppers at a young age! The crowd loved me too. They loved me even more on the expert mode. Fast forward a few years: I’m twelve, my favorite band is Skillet. I loved Skillet. My friend and I even dressed up as Korey Cooper and Jen Ledger for Halloween one year. (Yes I dragged her into it, and no I’m not showing pictures.) At this point, I was no longer taking piano lessons, but I’ve reached the point of enjoying it enough that I practiced everyday. However, I didn’t want to only piano for forever. No, I wanted to learn drums. The problem was that my family was in the process of moving, we didn’t have space for a drum set, and we couldn’t afford to buy one anyhow. Guitar was out of the question since it wasn’t original enough, so bass it was. I still couldn’t pay for my own, but I have grandparents. My grandpa bought me my first bass at a garage sale and it’s still the same one I use today - five years later. It’s green, it’s got a long crack on the back of the neck, and for a long time it made crackly noises when I plugged it into my amp. (I just got that fixed last week.) But I loved it that way. I practiced five to sometimes ten hours a day, sometimes I forgot to eat. I showed off my blisters to my friends (called them my “trophies”) and the headaches I got were the most amazing headaches I could’ve asked for. Everything was great, I was excited, and I was passionate. But it was really only the beginning. I had no idea what kind of difficulties were down the road. To be continued...
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