The gift of playing an instrument.
A love letter to the bass guitar and the man who inspired me to play it.
photo by Neven Mrgan, Flickr.
My music-enthusiast father was determined to find the perfect instrument for each of his children. In my case, I literally stumbled upon it. While many forced their children to play classical or acoustic, something about finding his quarter-century-old Fender jazz bass guitar in a corner of our basement at age ten resonated with me. I plucked a sturdy string and felt its deep reverberation in my hand, leading me to recognize the sound as fundamental to many of the songs my dad played with his band or in the car during our commutes. The bass, a deep navy blue, had a The Smiths sticker on its back, yellowing and covered in dust. From that moment, I knew I wanted to play bass like my dad.
Initially, when I held the massive instrument, its weight overwhelmed my small frame, and its traditional right-side orientation challenged my left-handedness. I would not give up. My dad was a patient teacher, and we spent hours discussing the history of his music and dissecting the tablature of multiple songs. Beyond listening deeply to the bands he adores, which included Nirvana, Pavement, and Vampire Weekend, I developed my own taste for Bjork and SZA. In this way, I expanded my exploration of bass beyond formal training and began to fully embody the joy of playing an instrument. In middle school, following the lineage of female bassists, including Kim Gordon, Kim Deal, and Tina Weymouth, I launched and played for a band named Zodiac, and we performed live around New York for a couple of years. I really enjoy the creativity fostered by a group dynamic. This distinction provided a new warmth cultivated by music, as it motivated me to go deeper into my practice, understanding the significance of my role within the band.
Since the pandemic and starting college away from home, my consistent playing has wavered, but the gratitude I feel for these experiences with my father grows each day. Without my father and my long-term dedication to bass guitar, I would never have formed such a strong emotive response to the power of music. My love for music is inherently rooted in his influence, and it continues to motivate me to go to concerts the day of and dive into albums the minute they release at midnight. Although his dream of a family band composed of my three younger brothers and I never fully came into existence, I am able to foster so many relationships, both casual and professional, through shared favorite artists and songs. And whenever I am back home, I’ll pick up my father’s bass at any hour to play the tab to a song–and without fail, it’ll bring a smile to my face.
edited by Alex Oder.
photo by Neven Mrgan, Flickr.