(Editor’s Note: Here’s one of Bruce’s efforts from a while back)
I have heard of ancient artisans who were so skilled in their craft, that when they completed one of their exquisite works, they deliberately added some tiny flaw, so as not to offend the gods.
I have heard people complain (it may have been me, actually) about music played so perfectly, with such precision, that it lacked any soul or fire. It’s hard to completely justify such a complaint, since how can you expect someone to play a little worse to make you happy? I think the point is, one of the things that makes art great is the tension – a sense of danger.
Personally, I’ve never had to worry about playing so flawlessly that I might offend anyone – gods or mere mortals. I did play a perfect gig one time – one time! And by golly, if someone didn’t come up to me says and say “I was watching you very carefully, and you played perfectly in that set!”. I was flattered of course, but I tried to agree, graciously. It was a little like bowling a perfect game.
But looking back on that set, I wonder if I would have been more effective if I took more risks and played with more fire or passion. That can backfire, and it often does.
Perfection – or even near perfection – is not how I roll, anyways. I think I’m protected from those lofty places by a special inborn gift I call “The MIstake Gene”.
The Mistake Gene was especially prevalent in sports, for me. Anytime there was a glimmer of grace or adroitness, the Mistake Gene would kick in and I would bobble or boot my way back to humility.
I didn’t notice it in music for a long time, because it too a long time for me to gain enough skill where I could reasonably expect to play mistake-free. But, eventually it reared its ugly head. The only solace I have is, as I’ve gotten better, the inevitable gaffes are less and less noticeable.
Perhaps it’s this way with the true pros – they’re NOT playing perfectly, but the places where they fall short are only in areas where the players themselves could notice – a missed emphasis or flourish somewhere, that goes undetected by the listening audience.
I think it all boils down to what you’re trying to accomplish. If playing perfectly is your goal, that seems too low an ambition to me. It’s mechanical in nature – you lined up the notes where they belonged – congratulations. Better, I think, is to make the goal to make the music soar, and move the listeners, band and audience alike. Make some hearts beat a little faster, and maybe touch them on an emotional level. The Mistake Gene can’t touch that effort.
