Part of the Process

The chords, the bass movement, the general harmony. At least enough to know what I’m playing over. Once you have that, the notes stop being guesses. You’re not just searching—you’re narrowing things down.

From there, it’s usually small sections. Sometimes very small. A phrase, a couple notes… sometimes just finding one note and building from it. Playing along with the recording is part of the process. It helps you feel where things sit.

But it comes with a catch.

When you’re playing along, you’re also covering things up. Subtle pitch differences, little details in phrasing—they can disappear. And once you think you’ve got something, your brain has a way of locking onto that version and hearing it that way whether it’s right or not.

So part of the job is staying honest.

I’ve found that stepping away helps more than pushing through. Come back later—hours, days, sometimes longer—and you hear it differently. Almost always, something reveals itself. A note, a nuance, a better way to play it.

Tempo is another test.

If I can’t get something up to speed—clean, smooth, and without fighting it—there’s usually something wrong. A fingering, a position, a string choice, or even the note itself. The artist played it, so it’s playable. If it’s not working, I probably haven’t found the right way yet.

There are other things that can throw you off too.

Sometimes what you hear isn’t actually being played. Delay, effects, overdubs—they can make it sound like more notes than there really are. You have to decide whether to recreate that, or just represent it in a way that works.

And I’m not above using help.

Tabs, videos, books—anything that gets me closer. It never hurts to see another perspective. But I still trust my ears in the end. Those are just tools.

Of course, there are times you just can’t play something exactly—not yet, or not in the moment. That’s where you make it work. Keep the strong notes, the ones that define the part, and fill in the rest in a way you can handle.

It’s better to play something solid than to struggle through something that falls apart.

One thing that matters more than people think—practice the way you perform. If you stand when you play, practice standing. Small differences in position can turn into big differences when it counts.

And don’t forget—your hands are your own. What works for someone else might not work for you. Find your way to it.

Over time, things do settle in. You come back to something and it feels easier, like your brain kept working on it while you weren’t.

Because it probably did.

That’s just part of the process.