🎸 Middle-Aged Guitarist Series 30: The Day You Can't Hear the Sound

Silence and the Guitarist's Psyche

■ The "World of Silence" that visits the moment you pick up the guitar in the morning

Even for a middle-aged guitarist with decades of experience, there are days when it suddenly happens.

Yes, the days when you think,
“Wait, where did my ears go today?”
as a day.

Even when I pick, the sound doesn't “come in.”
It's not that my hearing is bad;
it's a day when my brain has unilaterally posted a sign saying “I'm taking a holiday today.” as a day.

This phenomenon is officially called the “Middle-Aged Guitarist's Silent Day.”
(I just named it now.)

■ On days when you can't hear the sound, for some reason the guitar feels “30% heavier”

I know when I can't play.
It's because the moment I hold the guitar, my lower back refuses.

The moment I put the strap over my shoulder,
it insists, “Hold on a second! My muscles are on strike today!”

When I press the strings, my fingers say,
“Don't dump work on me so suddenly?”

I'm surprised every time,
thinking, “Was the guitar always this heavy?”

I call this the “Weight Increase Phenomenon During Silence.”
(There is no scientific basis, but it definitely exists.)

■ Even if you consult your family, they will never understand

Me:
“Today, the guitar sound just isn't coming in...”

Family:
“Huh? The sound is coming out, isn't it?”

No, that's not it, that's not what I mean.
The engine of my heart on this side just won't start.

Since it doesn't get across and is difficult to explain,
in the end, I am always treated like this.

“It's just one of those days where the old man is saying weird things again.”

......It's okay to have days like that.

■ On days when you can't hear the sound, for some reason “only the noise of daily life is clear”

Even though the guitar sound won't come in,
everyday sounds seem strangely vivid.

The hum of the refrigerator motor,
the shaking of the washing machine,
the sound of dog claws clicking on the floor,
my family's voice saying, 'Could you clean up?'

For some reason, it's all high-resolution quality.

The only thing I can't hear is,
the guitar itself.

I call this the 'prank of the music god'.

■ And yet, it's only on days like this that a 'great phrase' comes down

Thinking I won't play today because the sound isn't coming in...
for some reason, a good melody suddenly wells up.

While washing dishes,
'Chug, chug-a, chug... Oh? This is good!'

While walking the dog,
'Tan, ta-ta, ta-ta... Huh? Why today of all days?'

And I rush to grab my guitar.
...But,
the sound still won't come in.

God, are you teasing me today?

■ The 'mood of the sound' returns the next day

Strangely enough,
the day I can't hear the sound only lasts for one day.

When I play the guitar the next morning,
the sound slips right back into the depths of my heart.

'Sorry about yesterday, I just went for a little walk,'
the sound seems to say, calm and gentle.

That's when I'm convinced.

'The sound isn't running away,
it's just taking a breather and coming back.'

■ Summary: Silence is also a 'sound' for a middle-aged guitarist

The day you can't hear the sound,
while it seems like a guitarist's natural enemy, is actually an ally.

・Body maintenance
・Mental tidying
・Detox from the clutter of life
・Preparation period for the next phrase

There are sounds that only grow in silence.
That is why I don't mind the days when I can't hear the sound.

The middle-aged guitarist has an epiphany again today.

“A day when you can't hear the sound is
a 'quiet lesson' for your own sound to deepen.”

(Though, I really wish I could do something about this lower back pain.)