February 5th 2016
Today I went to a gig. Alice’s dad’s band’s gig. I don’t think all of those apostrophes should’ve been there.
This gig was in a pub which involved the breaking of my so-far alcohol free year, which I’m honestly not too fussed about.
I was once again left enthralled by the skill required to play guitar. I watched in awe as the guitarists plucked and changed chords and pitch and tone with a combination of fingers and feet. And I wondered how on earth they could remember two whole sets worth of notes/lyrics, and it’s just practice really. It’s just practice. You practice until it becomes second nature to you, until you don’t have to try to remember the next note because your hands are already in position. And it’s just practice, and some talent.
People much smarter than me have had the Natural Talent vs Hard Work debate, and no one really knows the answer. Was Hendrix born to be the worlds best guitarist or did he work for it? Was the Bend in Beckhams crosses a natural gift or a product of hard work? Does Adele sing like that because of birthright or effort?
Who knows. I don’t.
To be honest, I weigh towards the side of hard work. There needs to be a sprinkle of talent but the rest is practice, work rate, effort. I know as hard as I try I would never be a good singer because I haven’t got the voice. Could I be a pro footballer? Probably not. A pro writer? Maybe.
Until tomorrow, anything is possible with a bit of hard work.