This segment dovetails from the previous installment on mistakes.

Have you ever strutted your stuff, showing off, with a kind of "Look at me, I'm great and I know it!" kind of attitude, all ego and puffed out chest bravado? Sure you have. Who hasn't in some way at some point in something they really believe they're 'king of the hill'?

There's this movie called "Crossroads", made in 1986, about an old, "authentic" Blues guy in a rest home who is befriended by a young kid who idolizes him. Long story short, the old Blues guy, who is a harmonica player, has an appointment at the Crossroads (of the song fame), wherein at a young age he made a deal with the Devil and now has to pay the debt - which, of course, is his soul.

Now, apart from the cheesy dialogue in much of the film, and the really trite "love" story angle, there is some really nice playing by Ry Cooder (dubbing for the kid) and Steve Vai. But it is the last act of the movie that is the focus here. After a bunch of adventures and other filler (though including some really good sound track music in the shanties and road houses - all too brief a listening experience), the old guy finally gets to the Crossroad and meets up with the Devil, who has come to collect what's his.

Well, they argue and it turns out the kid is going to be the old Blues guy's proxy in a battle on the Killin' Floor (or Cuttin' Session) of a shanty saloon. Enter Steve Vai as "Jack", the guitar player, the Devil's 'agent', and the man that our young kid has to go up against. The scene opens with Jack flailing away some really mean licks with his band and everyone in the joint is rockin' out to his jams. The kid walks in with the old Blues guy and they set up to play.

Jack rips some heavy licks to open the fight. The kid responds with some rather weak stuff. Jack cuts loose with another barrage of mean riffs. The kid, noticeably shaken, realizing that his soul, too, is at stake, steels himself and starts to meet the challenge. Back and forth, until the kid knows he's licked if he doesn't figure something out. So the kid reaches deep and begins to lay downs some serious Classical passage (Paganini's 5th Caprice) - something he'd been practicing, but until this moment didn't realize how important what he'd been learning really had become.

Jack looks at him, a little rattled now, and starts to try to beat the kid at his own game. He chokes, gathers himself again and starts up and chokes again. He's really shaken now because he can't pony up. He got too comfortable as the king in his 'house'; he had ceased to practice and increase knowledge and retain abilities he once possessed. The kid has bested him and he is humiliated in the place where he reigned supreme (for how long we don't know, but the inference is that it has been a long time). The king is dead, long live the king.

So what is this all about? It's about how showing off and comfort are a poor substitute for hard work and study that will pay off in more ways than learning a few things and then relying upon these few things to carry you. So you don't study as much because you're having too much fun showing off. Showing off satisfies the ego, to a point, but doesn't cut it when it comes time to demonstrate real understanding, ability and... yes, talent.

But talent will get you only so far.

If you don't study, your talent is squandered behind your few cool tricks, licks and other things that show how incomplete your ability really is. Why? Because ultimately, with limited knowledge, you will begin to repeat yourself over and over again. "Variations on a theme", or 'restating' only results in a very limited stretching of know how. If you won't study, you'll struggle to find any new stuff because you aren't learning the things that will open the doors to that very stuff you want to discover. So, showing off may be fun for a moment, but it's candy and it will soon make you sick, so to speak, if you indulge too much in its sweet exercise.

Many show offs are really quite good players; they've done their homework, practiced hours a day, learned really complex materials and techniques and can play a whole lot of stuff. It's their ego that is insufferable. That, and their insistance that we must indulge them their penchant, their need to be heard....even when we've heard enough - especially when they are proved to be inferior musicians.

Here are a few examples of show off behaviour - whether from good or poor players...

The Jam Session show off.

This is the guy who shows up to any jam session he can get into. He has great gear, too. Sometimes this guy can be really obnoxious by having his amp too loud (I need that volume to get the tone I'm after), crowding the jam by not sitting out and letting other players step into their turn (insecurity, knowing other players are better), playing over another person's solo, cutting in and 'joining' the fray (but twin harmonies are cool...yeah, true, but only if you understand how they actually work - he doesn't). Lynyrd Skynrd does this, right? Sure, but...

How you deal with this guy at a Jam Session is let him hang himself. If you are a better player, be subtle about it. Wait your turn, then pull out your best stuff that you know you can do cold. Don't try to over-improvise your way into shutting them down. You have to play something you can do in your sleep for the given modality the song is in, whether minor or major in its construction. If he has even half a clue, after you demonostrate superior ability, he will quiet down or make an excuse that he has to cut out early, remembering some important appointment elsewhere.

That said, though, sometimes it is just better to not confront these people because it can be a caustic experience. They could blow up right there on the spot, being quick tempered (extremely insecure) and, sadly in some cases, start trashing gear. How you deal with these people is to simply make sure they don't get wind of the next jam session. You lock them out. And if they show up uninvited, you politely tell them that this is a "closed" session. They'll protest a little, but stand your ground. They'll back down and go away, even hurling insults about how they'll never invite you or come over ever again, that you're all a bunch of hacks and amateurs anyway...

If you are this guy, even if you don't think you are, once you discover this, pull back and embrace humility. Don't be so anxious to be heard. Better to be invited to step up and take a solo than to insist upon taking one, right? Then go to the guy who shut you down and first compliment their playing, then ask them if they teach - or who their teacher is. Then actually take some lessons and learn.

When I go to a jam session, I bring appropriate gear and I just voluntarily comp on rhythm most of the time. If I am motioned to to take a solo, then I play an appropriate solo to the tune or progression. I don't overplay. If what I play turns out to be really great, then it is because that is how it turned out, not because I am trying to show off. I am more interested in helping others have a great jam session. If I stay on rhythm all day, I'm cool with that - and I don't overplay my rhythm parts either (I learned that lesson a very long, long time ago).

Sometimes, I'll even sit in on bass or drums, because I have been playing these instruments for years and years. I'm just not as good on them as I am on guitar. So I'm sure to play very utilitarian drum parts. I can't show off! On bass, I simply play what the song needs and work with the drummer to keep a steady beat going.

The Studio Session show off.

This is a tough one. The reason is that if they've been hired to play a part, they may actually be really good. Really good show offs are just plain ego maniacs. There really isn't much you can do here except tolerate them. The producer may know they're arrogant, too. But until or unless they can find someone as good (maybe you?) and who can cover the material with the same panache and style and whatever else this idiot has going for them, but without the accompanying ego problems, you'll be seeing them in a lot of sessions.

Time is money in the studio. You have to be able to perform at will and learn material in minutes, even be able to sight read. This ego maniac can do this, or if he can't read, he can follow direction quickly and achieve the same results (if not the note for note score) that satisfies the producer's needs. Egos are tolerated in the studio if the results are consistent and reliable. It's just a sad reality we hope to vanquish over time.

When I'm in the studio, I respond to the producer, or the guy running the session (which may be the producer or the engineer). I make sure I understand what they're looking for if there's no written part. I create a simple chart sometimes of the chord progression and maybe even lay down the whole arrangement and make crib notes on where solos belong and maybe make chord changes (which I'll pass by the producer to make sure it falls within the scope of the sonic picture he is looking for). All suggestions I make, I know may be rejected. I try not to make too many, only what I believe may be important to mention.

The Sitting In show off.

This guy comes to the club (often with his instrument in tow), hoping to sit in with the band. He knows a ton of stuff in the styles he can play and usually goes to like minded clubs. During a break, he'll swagger up to the stage and talk with the band leader about maybe sitting in during the next set. A quick glance at the song list and he calls out the tunes he knows, two or three, that would work for him.

When someone requests to sit in, it is an unknown, unless you know the guy or know about them. Some clubs do not allow this (though they might have a jam night - sometimes hosted by that week's band). I've done this and really get a little uncomfortable with it - my gear is my life and the last thing I need is someone getting on stage and trashing my livelihood. If you have to do this, require the club to sign a note saying they will fix any gear that gets trashed. If they refuse, then you tell them you cannot accept the liability. Sometimes you can have a clause in your contract excepting you from doing the jam night thing if they won't cover damages.

Usually, when letting people sit in, we want to make them look good. So we give them the guitar solo (if guitar player), feature them on their instrument in some way (bass, drums, keys) that will draw attention to them - for good or ill. And we will always get their name, announce that they're sitting in on a couple tunes, and then afterward, announce their name and call for some applause. This has the effect of a) letting people know a really good player or, b) exposing a really bad player.

There is an exception here, and I must point it out. If a young player (someone who hasn't been playing long) wants to sit in, ask them how long they've been playing and pick an appropriate tune to help them sound better than they may actually be, even one simpler than their ability indicates. You want them to shine. Be supportive, and be encouraging. They are insecure about their ability, but want a taste of the stage life. It's less about showing off than wanting to experience the life. Help them through it when playing the song, guiding them along if they need direction. And tell them how good they played afterward, even if they made mistakes.

If someone is really abusing the opportunity, overplaying, soloing too long, playing too loud, whatever, we grit our teeth and remember their name for the next time they ask to sit in. Not going to happen.

I've sat in on all kinds of sessions at clubs. But I never try to take over the show. Whether guitar, drums or bass, I simply want to join in and help make the evening more fun, adding a little variety to the evening. I've hosted these, too. And one time I had to take over the hosting because there was no organisation. Afterward, the 'owner' of the jam night at that club asked me if I wanted to become the stage director, orchestrating the session. I couldn't do it, but it was nice to be asked.

The Solo Player show off.

This happens more often at parties than in clubs or jam session. A guitar or piano is present at the function. People are sitting in on the instrument and sharing their abilities, some good, some okay, some not wonderful, but they're humble enough so it's okay. Then there's the guy who fancies himself "Mr. Entertainer", and you simply must let him perform. He isn't interested in sharing his abilities and songs. He's interested in taking over the night's festivities and imposing himself upon the built in audience.

The problem is, with a fair number of this kind of person, they tend to actually be very good. The deeper problem is, they don't know when to quit. After two or three songs, though people ask for more, they should graciously concede the instrument and let things move forward. Life doesn't revolve around them. Nope, they bow to the will of the people and regale them with another three, four or ten tunes, singing even louder than before, since simply everyone has to be drawn into their sphere.

True story here. I was at a party and was asked to perform. I was young and stupid. And I tried to outperform my abilities. And I was humiliated by the next player, who had his act together, had appropriate tunes to offer, and just tore me to shreds. Did I learn my lesson? Nope. A few years later, the same situation. But I was unaware of another player at the party.

So, once again, thinking I was the best player there, I went for it and tried to outplay myself. This other guy gets the guitar afterward and plays me under the table. Afterward, I found out he was part of a group I had admired a lot, who were truly professional on all levels (where I was still learning). After that second incident, I got real humble and quiet and only performed when asked and then, only as my abilities provided, chosing appropriate tunes for the occasion.

No matter the situation, unless we really are aware of who is in the room, we may not know how good a given player may be...until they start playing. Then it's too late. If we are showing off in ignorance of the fact a better player is sitting right next to us, we are just asking to be put in our place.

I've been the best player in the room, many times. I've been the worst player in the room, many, many times. The older I get, the better I am as a player, but also the more humble I am, the more reluctant (after a fashion) I am to demonstrate how good I really am. Because I've also been teaching for over 20 years, I have come to appreciate the abilities of new players and long time players. Sometimes long time players just aren't as good as you hope they'll be. Sometimes new players astound you.

I've stopped thinking that I must be the best player around. Even if I am, I really don't care any longer. I don't need to show off. I know how good I am. I know my limitations, too. And I know I get far more enjoyment out of helping other players sound better than they may actually be.

I've also noticed something very cool about long time players, particularly those who've played in all levels of professional venues, from crappy clubs to arena stages: they are some of the most patient, giving, supportive and humble players I know. They've paid their dues, over and over, and they've learned the lessons, over and over. And most agree that the best thing we old guys can do is live out our example of what we hope the up and coming musicians will become.

Music is a gift to be shared with anyone and everyone who will listen. And we do so humbly and thankful we have been granted this gift from above. And gifts are meant to be shared and passed on, too. If we show off anything, we show that it is better to give the spot light to someone else, knowing that we have already had our moments, and wait for the next time we are offered to stand in that spot. And when it does come around again, we are thankful that there are those who still want to hear what we say through our music. And when we've said our piece, we graciously hand the spot light back over, or pass it along to the next deserving soul.

And that's the best way to show off. Wouldn't you agree?