Some memories of my musical progress just came back to me. Probably (almost definetly) my three fondest ones:
First one, my second year of playing music. I was about 10 and in school, we sort of had a voluntary class of music for one hour each week. I played bass, and was showing to be good at it. My teacher at one point said that I was probably born with a bass, but I saw that as a way for him to increase my spirit. One day after everyone had gone, he taught me the bassline of Diving Duck Blues, and the next week, I had got it. Playing it that time, I had some serious adrenalin in my body, I just simply couldn't believe the sounds I made, hearing them on the amplifier. Shaking and ecstatic, I left. That day, me and music just clicked.
Second one was one year later, at my new school with my new guitar teacher. My mother had bought me an electric guitar that summer, and I had picked up the pentatonic scale from a relative. After learning tunes such as Cocaine and the solo of Paranoid, I got to do one of my own to a blues in A. My first solo. Again, I left the place shaken, realising that I could use the scales to improvise. I spent that year by my guitar, finding new ways and new tones, fitting them together like legos.
The third one beats the rest. After elementary-school, I joined a music-oriented program. I hooked up with some music-people there, and on the second year, we went on a study-trip with the school. My ensemble were into progressive blues that year, and I played guitar in it. We were going to a neighbouring town to play a "friendly competition" against their musical program. Of course, there was nothing friendly about it. A sign that they had even said "the ultimate showdown", and they were eager to impress. First that night, they went with their groups. They sucked. The first metal-head on stage let out a "are you ready to ROCK?!" or something like that, dropping the microphone to the ground mid-sentence. They were very basic to sum it up, and then WE got to play. Our ensemble were the first up, and I guess that everyone in my class saw me as somewhat of a wild-card. I was shaking going TO the stage, with loads to prove since all eyes were fixed on me, and since we by no circumstances were to lose to them. Any fuckups, and we wouldn't properly set the tone (pun unintentional) for the rest of us.
I felt that I could barely control my hands as I started to play, but everything just turned out perfect. At the solo, I started to numb out. Even my palate was numbing out, but I was shredding beyond belief! With accuracy and feeling! As if my logical side had given in to all the adrenalin, handing over the controls to my instincts and that the core of me was just observing and giving input. Everything worked out perfectly, and afterwards, I had to sit down for about thirty minutes just collecting what I had experienced.
Everyone got drunk that night at the celebration of our victory, and I was the king, instead of just everyday annoying... Probably the best day of my life.
Truly warm feelings. I've got to play some music. And so should You!
