To differentiate itself from the competition, the company's goal is to create an app that can link to future Fender digital products. An "identity layer" would recognize what the guitarist is playing and then recommend songs and guitar tab appropriate to his or her skill level and musical tastes. The app would hear the player attempting new songs, and could suggest new guitar strings, different tunings, or even a new effects pedal to achieve the desired sound. Pretty cool, huh?
And since the guitar tab available online is rarely perfectly accurate, the Fender app could save a person the time wasted on sub-par tab, including struggling with online tutorials. Where was all this great stuff when I was hashing away on my plinky acoustic back in the 70's?
I fought with that instrument in a sort of love/hate relationship. I cursed the high string action that threatened to sever some of my fingers. I knew nothing about guitars back then, and simply soldiered on. I cut myself repeatedly on the high E string trying to hold down weird barre chords. Eventually the callouses built up on my fingers and the flow of blood was minimized.
The early pop/rock tunes I tried out were mostly Beatles, from a big songbook I got one Christmas. The chord boxes were the most useful bits, while the song's melody written in musical notation was almost never applicable. I did pick out sections that jived, like the main riff to Day Tripper. That was one satisfying day. It was even better when I could play the riff smoothly, at the correct tempo, and within something that resembled a full song. Sort of.
During my college years, I learned parts of a lot of songs on that old acoustic. Rush, Triumph, Scorpions, and so on. My repertoire was growing somewhat, though that hard-to-navigate guitar held me back. When I finally bought my first electric, an ancient Kent 12-string (I played it as a 6-string), I enjoyed playing those songs more, but something was still missing. A little more ability and better equipment would have helped.
Man, how times have changed. Looking back, I have always felt that my travails on the guitar were part and parcel with the learning process. I never looked at it as time wasted; learning some theory, and developing finger speed, technique, and strength were all part of the deal. I never thought it was going to be easy. Yet even with all of these modern-day shortcuts, there is still a lot of wood-shedding to be done. That means time spent doing fretboard exercises and practising songs.
And back in the day, there was no guitar tab or online videos (no online, either!). No easy access to every song in the world. If I wanted to listen to a tune so I could learn it, I'd have to either buy it, borrow a record from a friend, or wait for it on the radio. And pretty much every guitarist learned from listening to the original recorded song.
These new-fangled Fender and Gibson toys would actually have helped me in some ways. Like I might have progressed faster on guitar. My road was a very long and slow one. I got a few tips from a friend in the beginning, but after that it was just me and my ears. I listened to songs, and figured them out on guitar. I played by ear. And I knew right from the start that I was never going to get it perfect that way, but that seemed to be the only way. After a while, I came to enjoy my versions of songs, and I didn't fuss over every little thing being perfect, to sound just like Jimmy Page or Alex Lifeson.
But I was limited in some respects, like in the guitar solo department. I never even attempted solos until I had played for almost fifteen years. By then, I was a decent rhythm guitarist, but since I cut short my theory education, I never learned proper scales, or at least no more than one (and I couldn't even tell you which one that was). Using that one scale, I added other notes I heard, and improvised some solos to favourite songs. This felt like a necessity at the time, because I was jamming regularly with friends, and we needed to play something that resembled a full song. The drummer, and the occasional bassist or rhythm guitarist, didn't seem to give a rat's ass how good my soloing was, so I just kept on.
With a newer guitar,a sharp-looking Phoenix Phantom "telecaster" copy, I felt better about my sound. I went through a couple of baby-sized amps until I found a beauty of a Fender, which sounded amazing and had the power to compete with my friend's drum kit. Then I threw in a chorus pedal and a Metal Zone distortion pedal for much more versatility. I was rockin'.
I felt reasonably confident with my reckless playing methods and at least had fun with the jamming. That went on for several years, playing a selection of our fave tunes, stuff like simpler songs by Metallica, Megadeth, Scorpions, Kim Mitchell, Rush, Lenny Kravitz, Kiss, and others. I remember one time when we really got groovin' on some song (it might have been Enter Sandman), some other people entered the room, and the next thing I knew, a little dance party had broken out. I felt a strange high that night... besides the Jagermeister surging through my veins. This was a musical high. That same feeling hit me once or twice since, while jamming with my drummer buddy. We always seemed to "click" when we played, whether approaching an actual song, or noodling and improvising. Both scenarios created some very cool moments, when we hit just the right notes at just the right time. Everything flowed beautifully, and Jagermeister wasn't always involved, so we knew this was real and not imagined.
Ever since I first held that crappy old plinker on my lap, I've felt that guitar was a part of my life. I played almost daily for many years, then a little less often when life became an adult life. I'd say I was pretty diligent for a little over twenty years. Then I sort of drifted away from rock music for a while, not entirely, but enough that I wasn't hearing new songs that I wanted to play on guitar. I was giving jazz, classical, electronic, and some dance music a chance. Broadening my horizons.
Occasionally I came back to the guitar, trying out the old and familiar tunes, but that ritual became boring for me. I sure as hell couldn't suddenly zip off some jazz or classical on the axe without more advanced training and a lot more practice. So I became even less interested.
Some years passed, then I came full circle again with my music listening. Not entirely dropping my new-found interests, but just easing back enough to make room for old favourite albums by guys like Judas Priest and Pink Floyd. Stuff like that. Yet my guitars (an acoustic and an electric) remained in their cases, gathering dust. Once in a long time, I'll haul out the acoustic and pluck away for a few minutes, maybe a half hour at best, then back it goes.
It's hard to describe how what was once such an all-consuming passion has dwindled to a thing that I only feel guilty about not doing. Why don't I play? If I had achieved a more solid grounding in theory, or at least some scales, I could probably learn some of those more challenging songs that now interest me, like the blistering Priest assaults or the sublime Floyd meanderings. But I don't have the chops. And I don't think I even have the interest in learning new things in order to get there. I have a lot of hobbies and past-times. I juggle them well enough, but have let the odd thing go to make room for something new. And guitar was one that fell to the back burner.
I doubt I'll ever forget how to play (it's like a bicycle, right?) but I do feel rusty whenever I do pick up the guitar. Not much speed now, and licks are a bit clumsy. Nothing a little practice couldn't fix, but my heart's not in it now.
If Fender can build me a motivation enhancer, then maybe I'll get back to the axe. For now, I'll just be a dedicated music listener.
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