He told me once, oh, it's getting to be 20 years ago now, "If it ain't in time, it's nothing."
He was talking about playing drums, but it's good advice for lots of things--of course, I thought it was outrageous nonsense at the time. And most of the time, playing music, close enough is good enough (or so I think--perhaps those who've heard me play think different. . .) When you're playing with a group, the time you play is the time, so it can be flexible--and sloppy, yes--but it's about playing together, not (necessarily) making the time between each beat uniform.
Or my timing is completely fucked.
That's what it seemed like last night, in the shed, trying to play along with the click track. I don't even know if I was dragging or rushing. Who knew that all it would take to make this natty skinsman go from thinking he was Hot Shit to feeling like he doesn't know how to play music at all was a couple dozen half-beats.
Shoulda taken my dad's advice and learned to practice with a metronome.