Deep Listening: Breathing with the Music - by Jason Yeager

Recently I asked a student to listen to a particular recording carefully, several times, before embarking upon the process of transcribing one portion of an improvised solo, a hallmark of a young improvising musician's self-study and growth. The student then asked me, "But how do I just listen? How do I study a recording? When I listen to music, it's usually in the background..."

I instantly recognized in this student a conundrum I also face.  I would love to sit still and pay attention to nothing but the music for an entire album, to say nothing of a single six- or eight-minute track. How often do I do this? And if I find the rewards of doing so satisfying, why don't I listen with single-pointed attention more often?

A simple response is that technology -- in the form of screens, too many screens! -- distracts us, and has the potential to engage our (ever-dominant) visual cortex while the most arresting and beautiful music plays in the background.  I think this is part of the answer, and I think the other part--for musicians at least--may be that we are too engaged in constantly judging: Is this good? Am I good? Is this better? What time is this in? What does that melodic line have to do with the underlying harmony? And if I can't answer these questions, is my musicianship lacking? These questions get in the way of being present with the sounds at hand, of fully experiencing the music we hear in the moment that we are hearing it.

Ran Blake has a wonderful book, Primacy of the Ear, that posits that the deepest learning in music occurs aurally. Music is a hearing art, and what we observe visually from a page can only approximate the depth of feeling, nuance, and soul that can be absorbed from a recording or live performance. There are spiritual components to an individual's or band's sound that cannot be fully conveyed through words, notation, or analysis (valuable though those other media of understanding may be).  Ran's outlook inspires me to first listen only for the sounds themselves, to sink into the physical sensations of the actual vibrations, and to try (as best I can) to suspend all analysis and judgment. However, the idea is to do this while also paying full attention.

So deep listening is a kind of meditation. Just as meditative practitioners focus on their breaths, and/or their bodies, as they sit and observe their own experience (mentally, physically, spiritually) without trying to change or judge it, perhaps too we can sit and breathe with the music we hear without trying to "tell stories" about what it is, what it isn't, or how great or inadequate we are as musicians.

I'd love to hear your thoughts/contributions in the comments section.

Thanks for reading!
-Jason