I started a street band in 1992 as a Community Music project. That band has gradually transformed itself into Wonderbrass, a community big band based in South Wales with around 30 active members.
The majority of players are people who developed an often impressive level of musicianship in their teens but let their musical activities lapse as they decided it wouldn’t be a career for them. And then, one day, they remembered how much fun music was and wanted to have some, or all, of that back in their lives.
It is meeting people who fit the above description, alongside other musicians who I’d call late starters – people who take up an instrument, or maybe just a new or different instrument, in adulthood – that has taught me about the joy of making music together.
Co-researching with people who make music for the hell of it (I did my PhD on community music-making and composing inclusive music) has led me to the following advice for any musical returners or late starters.
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Why else would you bother? There’s the challenge of reconstructing the skills you had the first time round or setting yourself a goal of reaching and passing a certain instrumental grade level. But so many of my fellow music students who were performance specialists were stressed out by the process of practice and recitals – it didn’t look like much fun to this observer. So, this time try to enjoy the ride and let that be your goal, whether you’re playing solo or as part of a group.
That being said, there’s a lot of fun and eudaimonia (a Greek term for living life well) to be gained from joining and making music with a group. Researchers such as Charles Keil and Steven Feld, Thomas Turturino and GD. Smith have shown the bonding potential of a group of people “grooving” together in a musical sense.
Just locking into a rhythmic pattern, generating collective momentum and giving yourself up to that endeavour can create such a sense of connectedness and wellbeing. Its also the engine of so many other collective celebrations: carnival, worship, parties, to name just a few. And so, the connections you make go well beyond your fellow musicians.
If you’re worried about what to expect before you go along, some groups, like Wonderbrass, provide learning resources and access to some of their written music, so you can get a feel for their style at home first.
There are groups out there for many different styles of playing. So why not join what’s available near you, even if it’s not what you previously thought of as “your thing”.
Steel pan, gamelan, samba percussion, community choirs – these are just some of the community music groups near me in Cardiff. So why not try what’s available near you and broaden your musical horizons.
You might not think a flute belongs in a New Orleans street band, or a sax in an orchestra, but you could just bring something new to the mix. A new musical genre might be a better challenge than working hard to get where you were at age 17.
A lot of people who have been educated to play western classical music, from scores and sometimes on borrowed instruments, feel alienated from the music they end up playing, even if they play it really well. This was often the cause of the kind of stress I witnessed in university – the striving to get nearer to the perfect performance of the canonic, set-in-stone, classical masterpiece.
It’s an impossible goal (and the best classical players have realised this). Other cultures don’t have this.
Most other musical cultures have some room for improvisation and self-expression within them, and not just individually but often collectively so. My research with Wonderbrass has taught me that improvisation adds value to musical participation.
It is something of you (singular and plural) inside the music. You could even go the whole hog and find a group that just improvises.
Finally, and this is a phrase I often use to get people to try something musically that scares them, “no-one will die – what’s the worst that can happen?” You might find something you want to work on. Yes, collective music making still benefits from alone-time and individual practice. But in a supportive environment the risk taking can be a journey of discovery.
And, like a child, you will self-critique and get better at what you are trying to do. So jump off the cliff, take that free fall of musical improvisation or public performance, and your parachute will get you down safely.
Robert Smith does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
