Listening well

Back in the day I spent about a dozen years in the music business. As I was thinking about the topic of listening, a couple of experiences from that world leapt out of the recesses of my mind and said, “Tell them about me.” So I will.

The first took place in a recording studio in Southern California on the campus of Citrus College. One of our artists recorded an album there, and we went down from Northern California to be part of that. The recording engineer was Tim Jaquette, and he was incredibly good. No doubt he still is.

He brought in a couple of musicians to record on this project, and one of them was a drummer called Stevie D. He explained that his last name was DiStanislao, but no one could pronounce it so he just went by Stevie D.

I was fascinated to see how Tim set up the studio to record the vocals, the instruments, and especially the drums. I learned that Tim had a wall (literally) of microphones, and he wanted the mics that would “listen” to the drums in the right way. In fact, he recorded all five parts of the drum set individually and considered adding one or two overhead microphones to that.

When I asked Stevie D about it, he said he thought that would be fine for an album. Then he told me he had recently finished a gig working for Roland, recording the sounds they would use in their new electronic drum kit!

Yep, the sounds coming out of their electronic drums weren’t created on a computer, they were recorded and played back. That meant Stevie had to record every possible sound you could make with a drum, much of which depends on velocity (how hard you hit it) and placement (where you hit it).

For many of us, we hear drums as loud or soft. But if you learn to listen to drums, what they add to a song can be incredible.

A jazz pianist

Because of what I was doing in music, my friend Jeff asked me to join with him and his friend Sheri to start a not-for-profit company that would help other non-profits raise money by putting on back-yard concerts. I did, and all these years later Heart of Silicon Valley is still going.

One of our earliest “this artist is going places” had just turned 16 when he agreed to do a concert for us. He was (and still is) a jazz pianist named Taylor Eigsti. He arrived early for the event, and of course we organizers were there. I sat down at the piano with him, and as he got the feel of this particular piano we talked about pianos, about his friend and mentor Dave Brubeck, and about songs.

I told Taylor I was a lyricist, and suggested we write a song together. He said that would be fun, but wanted me to know that (at that time, anyway) “I never hear the words” being sung in a vocal number, “only the notes being sung.”

Today he is a Grammy Award winner (and nominated for one this year), and has performed all over the world in the best venues with the best artists. Some of them sing words. I wonder if he hears them now.

Learning to listen to words

If Taylor doesn’t hear the words, he is not alone.

Far too many people don’t hear the lyrics in songs, and if they do hear them they have little to no idea what they are saying. Sadly, that often happens in churches. The lyrics for many of the modern day worship songs are, I think, poorly chosen and poorly crafted. The heart is there, but the mind is missing.

Still, even with great lyrics there are people who are simply wired for music. How can they learn to listen to words? The same way I — who am wired for words — can learn to listen to the music. I have to focus.

My default, like yours, is to tune in on what I want to hear and tune out the parts that don’t appeal to me. That is just as true in conversations I have as it is in songs I listen to in the car. Are you talking to me about golf or good or God? I’m probably listening carefully. Are you talking about space travel or duck hunting or pickleball? I’m probably listening, but not as carefully.

Does that make me just a little bit selfish? Yes.

Because, you see, the topic may or may not be one that is on my list of listenable topics, but it is the person speaking I should be interested in.

The key in learning to listen

Be interested.

It is as simple as that. Imagine that you play golf and your spouse doesn’t. (If you don’t have a spouse, imagine you do.) You go out and play a great round of golf, shooting your personal best with the highlight of making an eagle on a par 5.

Busted!!! You non-golfers are tuning out a little, and I get it.

But is your non-golfer spouse — imaginary or real — going to put up with yet another golf story? Yes, if that spouse is interested in you.

No matter the topic, when people stop listening to us we believe they are not interested in us. Because that is how it feels. You know, because you’ve felt it, so why would you do that to someone else?

There is a lot of advice out there about developing listening skills, putting away your phone while you’re in a conversation, and so on. It’s all fine and helpful.

But the real secret to listening well is to care about the person who is talking, and behave like it.

Do you want to do good today? Be interested in everyone who speaks to you, whether that’s a family member or a stranger, and listen when they talk.

Do good by listening well. It’s in you!