A Writer’s Embrace Of The Bass
Great writers are always something else.
Winter break of my junior year, I decided I needed something to take me away from the notebook or keyboard after being a self-proclaimed writer since I was 10 years old. Something that would expand my creative palate in an exciting and completely unpredictable way. Something that wasn’t writing; something more than a hobby, but less than a career.
Flannery O’Connor put it best in her book Mystery and Manners, in which she expands on this idea by talking about painting:
I know a good many fiction writers who paint, not because they’re any good at painting, but because it helps their writing. It forces them to look at things. Fiction writing is very seldom a matter of saying things; it is a matter of showing things…Any discipline can help your writing: logic, mathematics, theology, and of course and particularly drawing. Anything that helps you to see, anything that makes you look.
What would my “something else” be? I didn’t have a clue on where to start until one night during this winter break, my boyfriend of two years, Seth, invited me along to a jam session at his friend Colin’s house. I agreed, and we went. While they played, I sat at the drum set behind them, marveling at Seth while he charismatically played his favorite Grateful Dead songs; “Fire On the Mountain,” “Help on the Way / Slipknot!” and “Morning Dew.” After about an hour of watching them play, Seth asked me if I wanted to hop on the bass and play with them. I have no formal experience playing any sort of string instrument, but to my own surprise, I say yes.
I began to play with them, and almost instantly, I felt a sensation I hadn’t felt since the years I spent learning piano at a young age from a woman named Miss Nina Raposo at her home in Westport, Massachusetts. I gained the ability to play almost any song by ear, and over time, I developed a knack for true rhythm.
Having a bass in my hands was a burst of excitement and passion I never thought I’d feel. The more I played, the better I felt. The cooler I felt. I played the bass on their rendition of Pink Floyd’s “Breathe (In The Air),” and watched as they both were in awe, shocked at how I was even able to keep up with their tempo on my first try.
Colin said, “Holy shit, Nina. How did you do that so fast? If I didn’t know you, I’d have thought you’d been playing the bass for months. You should seriously consider taking up the bass. A knack for a rhythm like that doesn’t happen often.” Seth and I looked at each other, giggling and smiling, because we knew this would be the start of something great.
Soon after that night, Seth gave me his black bass guitar with a beautiful leather strap with smiling suns on it. He was over the moon. He said, “You should write music,” as if my skills are interchangeable. There’s pressure in “should.” Is there a difference between writing an essay and writing a song? A, B, C, D — Do, Re, Mi. Words tumble out of my fingertips as if they were pre-packaged and sealed. I’m committed to writing as a way of life, so why not try a new medium?
I’ve been playing bass for a month now, and I’m absolutely loving it. I’ve learned how to play classic songs with killer bass riffs. Some of my favorites have been “Seven Nation Army” by The White Stripes, “Stand By Me” by Ben E. King, “Psycho Killer” by The Talking Heads, “Some” by Steve Lacy and “Another One Bites The Dust” by Queen.
I didn’t expect taking up an instrument to change my identity as a writer at all. But as I play more often, the connections between music and writing have begun to emerge. Playing the bass has opened my mind to a new way for me to manifest my creativity. Music and writing have always gone hand in hand in my mind, never failing to gloriously complement each other in melody and harmony. Every sentence is a song on paper.
The parallels between music and writing are increasingly apparent to me, from the shared vocabulary of rhythm and composition to the nuanced artistry of crafting a narrative arc. Just as a musician carefully selects each note to evoke a particular emotion, so too does a writer as they weave words together to evoke vivid imagery and an emotional response.
The vocabulary is the same: rhythm, composition, sentences and periods (small structures within a musical form), exposition, development, and finale. This isn’t even mentioning the similarities in stylistic eras, such as the Romantic era or the Modernist era. As my bass skills have improved, so too has my writing, and just one month later I now recommend that any aspiring writer take up music.
Music, regardless of style or genre, relies on steady rhythms and beats. I’d argue it’s impossible to play music and not strengthen your rhythmic sensibilities. When writing and reading, I’ve begun to notice that passages can take on their own special rhythm, not necessarily the strict meter of poetry, but rather a flowing musicality in which syllables are laid exactly where they should be.
Music is a story, but that’s not just in structure. Even without words, music tells tales of love and loss, of dreams realized and lives never lived. The more languages in which you can tell a story, the better; better for you, for others, and for the art itself. Both music and writing are arts of self-expression. In writing, this is obvious: words pour out from your mind to the page, and you can use words to say exactly what you’re thinking. But in music, you don’t have to be a composer to pour your soul into a piece. The expression is all about style; what you bring to the music, the memories and emotions that change your speed and your subtle shifts in dynamics.
As I reflect on my journey of discovering the bass guitar, I am struck by the profound impact it has had on my identity as both a writer and now, a musician. What began as a spontaneous decision during a jam session has blossomed into a passion that ignites my creativity in ways I never could have imagined.
In the words of Flannery O'Connor, “Anything that helps you to see, anything that makes you look.” Playing the bass has not only expanded my creative palate but has also sharpened my ability to understand and replicate the intricate rhythms and melodies in both my music and my writing. I extemporaneously stumbled upon a new language of expression, one that resonates with a kind of storytelling that is all my own, embedded in every note I play.
By embracing the bass, my new “something else” in addition to my identity as a writer, I’ve not only discovered a newfound sense of purpose and fulfillment, but have also confirmed my belief in the limitless power of artistic expression. As I continue to embark on this journey of self-discovery and creative exploration, I will forever be grateful for the transformative power of music and writing, and the positive impact it’s having on my life.
