10 Top Guitarists Pay Tribute to Mick Goodrick

I’ve known Mick Goodrick since summer of 1969 when I was 17 and Mick was 24.  I’d never encountered such a musician before, and at that young age, I was totally in awe.

I was pretty much a blues player at the time and Mick opened a curtain to an entire world of music that I didn’t know existed.  And I had no idea that coming anywhere near Mick’s level of musical creativity and understanding was even possible.  That feeling of awe never left me.

I studied with him on and off for the next four years.  During part of that time I was playing with a pleasantly weird theatrical rock band, Orchestra Luna.  He loved the band and came to see us several times.  At his first encounter, during a break he spent some time dispensing philosophical nuggets to each band member individually.  They were all blown away and most wouldn’t even tell me what he said, probably out of fear of diminishing the impact.

Our bassist, Scott Chambers, however, did share that Mick noticed how his bass, which had a flat shiny face, reflected the stage lighting interestingly.  He suggested that Scott could use that, selectively pointing the light at certain audience members to direct their attention.  Mick was very perceptive about details like that, and very interested in having control, not so much over others, just himself.  He explored meditation techniques and ways of directing his attention, and these disciplines were evident in his manner on stage, and certainly in his playing.

We started gigging together in 1979, in duo and quartet settings.  A great privilege it was to perform on stage with my mentor, and a heck of a lot of fun.  The Kurland Agency found our duo to be useful as an opening act – two guys with guitars and little amps who could set up in under a minute.  Playing music with Mick was always enlightening, inspiring, playfully challenging, and sometimes hilarious.  He would go anywhere – with you, or encouraging you to go with him, nothing to prove, no ego whatsoever.

He was a truly fun-loving musician, often getting a kick out of something he played and then developing it in fascinating and bizarre ways.  I remember at one duo gig we did, Mick managed to squeeze the Close Encounters motif into every solo he played.

A particularly wonderful time was when we had a three night stand at a nice venue in Portland, Maine.  They had a house for us to stay in, and we spent the days walking all around that lovely town, enjoying the shops, some really good food, and yapping nonstop about pretty much everything, and the conversations continued through the music each night.  A version of All the Things You Are from that gig is on our duo album.  (Also interesting was that he borrowed Phoebe’s car for the gig – the only time I ever recall him driving.)

There are a lot of Mickisms out there, just ask anyone who knew him, and of course his literary masterpiece The Advancing Guitarist is full of them.  One of my favorite Mick Goodrick quotes was in a published interview where he said, “Many people come to me hoping to make music their life.  I’d rather help them make their life music.”  Thank you, Mick.

“Have you heard of MATH?”

I remember the day Mick Goodrick looked me dead in the eye and asked the question. It was the beginning of a conversation that would completely change my trajectory as a musician.

At the time I met Mick, I was about 21. Too cocky and set in my own angsty attitude to fully understand what I was getting myself into, I had demanded from Jim Kelly (an amazing educator, and my first assigned private guitar teacher at Berklee) a recommendation to study with Mick. I had passed the rating requirements coming into school and so Jim happily made the recommendation after being sure to ask, “are you absolutely sure you are ready for that?”

I wasn’t. But that wasn’t going to stop me from stepping into Mr. Goodchord’s presence.

Sure, I was familiar with his music. I had listened to and loved his work with Gary Burton for years. But I had only scratched the very surface, as at that point I was only listening, not analyzing or visualizing or (most importantly) CREATING anything on the level.

Our first lesson he gave me the jazz standard “I’ll Remember You” and said, “let’s play this in 5” (meaning 5 beats per measure. Odd time signatures were a mystery to me at the time, so this threw me immediately.) He politely sent me on my way and told me what to practice.

Needless to say, by our next lesson I couldn’t have practiced enough. Not only was I an incessant noodler when I picked up my instrument, but the concept of NOT 3/4 or 4/4 was absolutely messing with my brain. Not to say I didn’t put in the time or effort. But I was not yet ABLE to properly conceive what to do. Jim Kelly’s question, “are you absolutely sure you are ready for that?” rang in my head in the days leading up to that 2nd lesson.

I showed up. Scared, unprepared and shaking I started to play. He told me to be “fearless” which I didn’t yet know how to do, so he demonstrated. To which I responded with “HOW? HOW DO YOU DO THAT?!” Mick then took to the chalkboard.

“It’s math, Josh. Have you heard of MATH?!” and proceeded to write a long equation on the board. I’m quite sure he saw the fear on my face in that moment, and that’s when he gave me two of his books, “Factorial Rhythm” and Volume 1 his “Chord Almanacs” which he signed, “Yours in harmony”.

He then told me to read up at my own pace, and ask any question about that material anytime, including his email and office hours. And to make sure I put in “THE TIME”. He also informed me that these texts would not just be for the semester, but for life. That I would be able to open the books at ANY time I felt my playing becoming redundant and glean something new, because even though he wrote these books, HE HIMSELF was still learning from these very concepts.

The rest of our time together was a complete whirlwind. I wasn’t ready for it. Probably still not! But the fact is that SO many guitarist along with myself have been forever changed by Mick’s philosophy. Personally, he taught me to think before I play. To form a proper statement and play it loudly, with intention. To not just be another scale player or chord strummed or loudest in the room, but a true thinking human who can express ideas WITH a guitar. A concept which I’ve found to be my favorite lesson, and which I’ll continue to pass on here as he always said it to me:

“We play the guitar with our BRAINS, not with our hands!”