I was at a high school party, and a friend of a friend demonstrated that he could play the guitar solo from "Freebird" note for note. Technically impressive, especially for a beginning guitarist but, even at sixteen, I knew the great guitarist was the one who played the guitar solo from "Freebird" the first time. That is the lesson everyone should learn first when they pick up guitar: no matter how many solos you can learn, you demonstrate real talent when you start inventing them.
As I write those words, it occurs to me that it may actually have been the first time I've articulated what has become one of my prime standards for judging music: “Is it original?” I have long favored innovation over technical expertise, especially in guitarists. That's why I prefer Frank Zappa over Eddie Van Halen and the same reason I appreciate Tom Verlaine and Keith Levene over Steve Vai and Yngwie Malmsteen. Or, just to start the arguments, Hendrix over Clapton.
I also prefer bands which play original material to cover bands. I prefer bands which play a different set every night, and I prefer improvisation to carefully choreographed shows. To this day, I listen for people creating their own "Freebird,” not playing someone else's.
However, I recently read something which, while it doesn't change the views on virtuosity that I've upheld for years, does provide a different perspective. It was an interview with Al Kooper, who produced that first Lynyrd Skynyrd album (amongst his many, many other musical credits; if, somehow, you are not familiar with him, you should Google him immediately), in Tape Op magazine (yes I am such a music geek that I even read magazines written for sound engineers). Kooper said that Skynyrd never improvised their guitar solos. Ronnie Van Zandt, their lead guitarist, composed everything beforehand, and played them exactly the same every time. In fact, the famous dual guitar solo at the end of "Freebird" is actually Van Zandt playing the exact same solo twice; Kooper then tracked the two solos on top of each other.
This reveals a different attitude towards playing music, and towards that solo in particular. If Ronnie Van Zandt thought that solo should be played exactly the same, note for note, every time, then there was a value, beyond technical proficiency, in learning it that way. My friend was, in a way, paying tribute to Van Zandt's wishes, although I'm sure he was completely unaware of them at the time.
That may add an entirely different level of appreciation to the work of those guitarists like Van Zandt who meticulously construct their work over just letting it fly creatively but, in the end, it does nothing to change my ideas about originality and innovation. It just shows I have a very different attitude about music than Van Zandt had. Perhaps it also explains why I've never been a big Skynyrd fan; without knowing why, I may have just sensed this rigidity in their music. Not that I don't respect the determination and discipline it required, it's just not what I'm listening for.
Of course, it's not just Ronnie Van Zandt and Lynyrd Skynyrd. There are many, many other musicians who share their attitude. More power to them. But they are not the musicians I love, the musicians I keep listening to.
