When I first became interested in music, it was like being presented with enormous sonic structures full of moving parts that I was desperate to understand. And it didn’t really matter if I was listening to Mahler, Stravinsky, Coltrane, or Bill Evans. My mind was just blown. I wanted to know everything about everything. And the thought of learning about it seemed overwhelming.
Perhaps the first question I had about music (from a somewhat naive viewpoint) was: how does it actually work? At the same time it was bound up with all kinds of other questions: Why does a composer or improviser choose particular notes? How do all these sounds blend together? Why is any piece conceived the way it is? What underlies these processes?
In retrospect, I feel like there were really two questions I was grappling with. The first asked how music worked. The second asked what I should practice and learn to develop this understanding. After many years of studying different aspects of music, the purpose of this article is to outline some thoughts on what has helped most.
I have broken this article into seven practice tips. Here are the first three important takeaways about effective music practice:
Reflect on the different kinds of skills you might want to develop. Do you want virtuosic mastery on an instrument, or to play a broad repertoire? Do you want solitary study or ensemble experience? Or are you interested in composing, conducting, or writing music for media? Your directions may evolve over time, and that is fine.
When I first studied music formally, piano lessons were a great starting point. This led naturally to theory, four-part harmony, counterpoint, harmonic analysis, and writing exercises. Studying scores, orchestration, and transposing instruments was initially difficult, but it deepened my understanding.
Eventually, jazz changed my perspective, influencing instrument choice and approaches to harmony, rhythm, and melody. Each element of my study contributed valuable insights—Chopin informed voice leading, Lee Konitz inspired melody, Charlie Parker and Gary Peacock shaped my understanding of rhythm.
Exposure to varied repertoire is essential. Studying classical piano repertoire (Bach, Mozart, Brahms, Scarlatti, Bartok) developed tonal and formal understanding. Exploring French orchestral music, Shostakovich, and jazz expanded harmonic and rhythmic horizons. Listening actively—studying scores, counting bars, comparing interpretations—is crucial.
Even albums with complex rhythms, like Chris Potter’s Circuits, require focused listening to grasp time signatures and syncopation. Active participation enhances understanding and musical insight, making listening a vital part of practice.
Understanding music evolves with experience. Consciousness develops a sense of which notes are appropriate, often beyond verbal explanation. Learning becomes about a way of being. Pay attention to yourself as a teacher acquiring knowledge, but also seek guidance from exceptional teachers.
Over the years, amazing teachers like Carl Orr and Dave Smith provided deep insights into jazz guitar, improvisation, harmony, and precision. Their guidance shaped my musical understanding, demonstrating the value of mentorship alongside self-directed learning.
Ok, that is enough for these first tips! Let’s move on to the next set.
When I first began to get serious in my study of music, I always approached it as if it had some kind of solution. I kept examining musical structures as if they were answers to a question I could not quite pin down.
Thinking back, it was almost like doing math, but music and math are fundamentally different. While they attract similar personalities who like routine and systematic learning, music is ultimately about sound and taste rather than calculation.
I spent months studying Bach’s keyboard works, analyzing inventions and fugues. Initially, I asked all the wrong questions: why did Bach use an Eb here? Why did the modulation happen this way? Eventually I realized that words couldn’t answer these questions. Bach’s choices were guided by sound, talent, and musical context. The key was internalizing how he heard music.
I started playing one part of a fugue while singing another, immersing my ears in the music to feel tension and resolution. This changed my musical sensibilities and transformed the way I hear and play.
Thinking and theorizing about music can be helpful, but listening must remain central. Your ears guide note choices more than rules or theory. For jazz, transcription is vital: slow down recordings, write out the notes, memorize them, and play along. Singing and playing along embeds listening into practice, deepening technique, time, melody, and harmony.
At university, our harmony and counterpoint teacher emphasized that rules were secondary. Instead, we sang Bach Cantatas extensively, developing a deep internal sense of dissonance, resolution, and harmonic movement. Practice should feel like becoming music itself.
Choosing what to work on is difficult because it relates to what will make you a better musician. Natural talent can make some people play anything effortlessly, but most of us must study strategically. Practice should focus on things that help connect with music and energize you.
When learning improvisation, focus on specific skills: hearing chord progressions, recognizing II-V-I movements, and exploring different interpretations of standards. Memorize versions, play them, and embed them in aural memory.
Not all practice methods translate universally. Singing twelve-tone rows improved my ear for them but not other areas. Certain repertoire helped my technique more than others. Experiment and adjust practice to suit your needs, focusing on methods that genuinely deepen musical understanding.
Ok, that is enough for these middle tips! Let’s finish with the final ones.
One of my favourite books about music is The Advancing Guitarist by Mick Goodrick. It pushes you to be creative in your practice while demanding deep study and hard work. Goodrick reflects on playing music and its evolution in a musical journey, saying, “A concert in Dayton on April 12, 1975 only happens once!”
He is pointing out that even though you internalise and understand your practice, the outcome only happens once and cannot be repeated. There is no point attaching too much importance to past performances.
Sometimes you play well or compose easily and attach yourself to that experience. Next time, things may feel harder, and your mind questions what has changed. Often, playing without worrying about results leads to the best performances.
The solution is to approach practice and composition where you are at each day. Accept the variability — some days are easy, some hard — and remember how amazing the human mind is at creating patterns with sound. Focus on being in the process rather than the result.
This tip is about maintaining longevity in your attachment to music. Music is an incredible way to move energy between people — a form of communication beyond words and semantics.
I have studied music for around 40 years, and I realized that music matters only when shared. It is a connection between entities in constant change, where boundaries between self and other dissolve. In this sense, music is other people.
And that brings me full circle to how music works. For me at least. Time for you to go do some practice!