When Michael Pollock asked me to tackle the subject of common mistakes to avoid in musical improv, hundreds popped up, so I waited four months or so. Once I’d paid off my Christmas mistakes and had gotten used to the world’s cutest puppy, I finally had some time to just sit with the laptop. So I posted a bunch of high school pictures on Facebook. After that, I dawdled, did some shows and ate a pizza. Finally, I got off my ass and focused on good sir Michael’s request and came up with this:
Around the city of Los Angeles, there are at least ten notable improv schools, plus tens of lesser known stages. Then, of course, there’s Chicago, New York, London, Austin, Amsterdam…lots of places to learn how to improvise. A good portion of these are populated with crazily talented musical improvisers, some of whom teach classes, workshops and/or sleep with their students in exchange for knowledge. Many of these schools do a fine job of teaching the basics of musical improv (I’d be remiss if I didn’t stress my opinion that Second City LA and IOWest have the best programs/teachers on the planet). Rather than attempt to sum up the basic mistakes that beginners make in readily available, inexpensive Wikipedia list form (robbing my friends and co-performers of their sweet teaching money), I’ve compiled a list of five mistakes that I, or my colleagues, used to make (A caveat: I’ve never made mistakes – just opportunities, but who wants to read about my awesomeness). I hope they help anyone who loves to make impromptu musical magic.
1. Don’t sell yourself short, you know as much as the next guy about music:
So you don’t have an extensive music school background. If someone asks you to switch to the fourth or crescendo, you stare at them with that dim face of yours. You know the one. That doesn’t mean you don’t know music. Whether you know showtunes, opera, jazz, fifties R&B, alt rock, punk, emo rock, songs by Elmo, styles ad nausea, you know some music. Otherwise, why on earth would you be reading this article? Cause of the amazing money to be made in Musical Improv? You are a funny one. But maybe you don’t remember to apply your library of knowledge to your onstage make-em ups. It’s time you did. Start by cheating. Pick a 50’s/60’s classic (Tracks of My Tears, Stand by Me, My Girl) and improvise words over the tune. Get a suggestion, and do your funny words using the song you know so well. Look at you – you just came up with multiple verses, perhaps a chorus, a bridge and a big finish (and yes, I know, the examples I listed all fade out, but you rocked out a big finish). Now obviously, to sing over Tracks of my Tears in a show would be rather lame, so don’t do it. Instead, use the comfort level you just attained to perform any improvised song in any style, knowing that you know enough about music to do your thing.
2. Get to know your accompanist:
Just because you’re well versed in MGM musicals doesn’t mean they are. Maybe they started playing piano because of a fascination with Van Halen’s Jump. Even Gene Kelly would have a hard time fitting into David Lee Roth’s leather pants. Your musician isn’t some a–hole sitting on the side of the stage in order to make you look/sound good. They’re a mind-blowingly talented individual who can manipulate 88 keys, 6 strings or a series of pots and pans into impromptu song whom the audience often underhears and overlooks. The better they are, the better you appear to be. Better yet, the better you work with each other, the better your show will be. So hang out with them. Find out what kinds of music they play when they’re not improvising. If they aren’t familiar with your comfortable styles, burn them a cd of songs you’d love to emulate. Get them to do the same in return. The more you experiment in rehearsal, the less you sound like you’re experimenting in performance. And don’t forget to give them the same credit you receive when the clapping starts. On your own, you’re just making up songs. Together, you’re making unforgettable evenings.
3. When in doubt, wait for it:
Let’s face it, some people have no rhythm. The problem is – they don’t always know who they are. The musician begins to play and the improviser just starts singing, often with no apparent relation to when the music began. The audience starts to cringe, as do the improvisers teammates, as the singer is apparently unaware that his song has nothing to do with the musician’s. Now the best of the improvising accompanists out there can adapt to rhythm-less singers and turn the beat around. But in beginner groups, the musician will often stay true to their original beat, as will the clueless improviser. The audience may not know why they don’t like it, they’ll just know they don’t. Think that’s you? Fear not – Here’s a test. It may be humbling, but get together with your accompanist and have them play a four measure vamp in 4/4 time- something basic such as a 1, minor 3rd, 4th, 5th progression (G, Em, C, D). For those steeped in music, that’s right – it’s Earth Angel. It’s also a million other songs if you apply a different rhythm and feel. Regardless, have the accompanist start playing those chords as a loop over and over. When you feel the natural beginning of the loop happening, start singing. Now stop. Look at the accompanist – are they frowning or smiling? Musician’s of all walks of life share the magic of unhappy face – the pained look on their face that lets the audience know that which sucks is the other guys fault. Is your musician trying to shift the blame clearly to you or is he smiling like all those people at the end of a Dog Whisperer episode? You want the latter. Keep practicing until you get it right – meaning that they tell you you’ve gotten it right. One follow-up regards clapping along with songs. So, you’ve got the audience going with a rollicking blues number and you want to clap along to heighten the feeling…clap on 2 & 4. Polkas, weird religious tent outings and large groups of pasty white people clap on 1 & 3, the first and third beats of a measure. You want to be hip. Clap on 2 &4. Don’t know what I mean? Ask your musician.
4.Don’t rap if you don’t know anything about rap (otherwise known as embrace your fears holding a bag full of weapons).
Let’s say you’re rocking out some short form improv. Maybe you’re playing Musical genres, Musical option or you ask for the audience for a style and they yell rap. Don’t think they will? You’re wrong. Someone always yells rap, or opera or Gregorian Chant. There’s a tendency in improvisers to always step up, regardless of fear level. What usually happens in rap is that one person cranks off a four line rhyme, two or three people beat box poorly and someone steals some lines from the Beastie Boys. Your musician may start a drum track on their keyboard or they might just flounder around with rhythmic pounding. There’s nothing wrong with any of those choices, they’re just signs of a group working in an area where they don’t share a common vernacular. If you want your group to grow in quality, get together and embrace your fears. Have listening parties. Don’t make it about what you like. Make it about what is commonplace and essential. Rap has many levels. Let’s face it, the beat box is essentially dead. Being the guy doing it places you late eighties. Many current hip-hop singles feature up to five rappers each taking their own verse. Add in a hype guy (the guy who helps finish sentences) , some soulful chorus, dare I say loop a sample or two…the point is, don’t perform what you think a style is based on your lack of knowledge – get familiar with all styles, especially those you don’t like. Tae kwon do fighters don’t show up to a Mixed Martial Arts tournament without learning some grappling…that’s right, end this thought with a really nerdy analogy.
Finally, something that translates to musical and non-musical improv alike – don’t play for the joke at the expense of the scene. The compliments you want at the end of a musical improv set include: Seriously, that wasn’t written? You should write that down! I can’t get that song about monkeys out of my head. I wish I had that show on CD. Can I belong to you? (and so forth). You know you missed the mark if they say things like: Your one verse about the things was really funny. Wow, you found a rhyme for orange. Hey, I think I can do what you guys do. Can I be in your group? What time’s rehearsal? I can’t make that, change it. Simply put, there’s nothing more impressive than a scene that seems like written material or a song that feels like a Broadway showstopper. It’s far better to get tingles out of an audience that giggles. If you play a song to its fullest potential, you’ll end up with giggles, tingles and tears.
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