Multiple Grammy-winning and -nominated guitarist/composer/producer/label owner Steve Vai first hit the scene as Frank Zappa’s transcriber, stunt guitarist, and “little Italian virtuoso.” His meteoric rise continued when he replaced Yngwie Malmsteen in Alcatrazz, joined David Lee Roth’s solo project, recorded and toured with Whitesnake, and, along the way, released groundbreaking albums of his own, such as Passion and Warfare, among many other successes. He is also well known for his innovative signature Ibanez guitars. I had a chance to sit down with Steve for a lengthy discussion during Sweetwater’s GearFest 2019. Check out the excerpts below and be sure to watch the complete interview.
Given that you’re so virtuosic on guitar, does that affect the music you compose?
When you compose, you have to keep in mind what the possibilities are for the other instruments. In the classical world, there are certain expectations from a musician to be able to perform. It’s very bad form to compose something that doesn’t sit well on an instrument. What I learned is that you’re not impressing anybody by writing something that’s impossible to play. It’s the same with the guitar.
Listening to you warm up, I hear a lot of ambiguous chords —sus 4, 11ths, #11ths. What’s the attraction for you, with those types of chords?
I’ve always had an affinity for the abstract. I kind of just noodle. I just let my ear take it wherever it’s going to go. Yeah, there are certain tendencies I have. Oddly enough, I base everything off of the blues scale. But you’d never know it —it’s all over the place. I try not to think so much.
As a soloist, when you then see those chords, are you thinking modes, chord tones, scales…?
It’s according to what’s coming up, who else is playing. But a chord is a chord. I’m not so much an experimental jazz-type player. Like if you have a major chord that you hear, obviously there’s a lot of notes that you can play with, and you can do that with all sorts of chord structures. But I don’t do that on the fly. The guitar is not mapped out in my mind that way. I’ve resisted going that deep into scales —in the early days, sure, I practiced scales. But the theory where “I know what that chord is, so I can play this scale,” I don’t do that. You lose your connection with the melody that’s organically coming out of you.
What I try to do more, and what I encourage, is really listening. It’s great to know the theory and have it become second nature. But your ears are your greatest, your best friends when you’re playing. What do I mean by that? Well, there [are] two ways to listen. One way is you’re listening —you’re very present in the moment of the performance. You’re listening to the other musicians; you’re keyed into what they’re doing. You’re just listening intensely. When you do that, there’s no room for thoughts that will derail you from being connected. That’s when you really can respond.
The other listening —it’s hard to explain —you’re listening for a melody to tell you what to play. It’s fun because you’re present with it. The notes just kind of fall into themselves. You don’t have to do anything; it kind of does it on its own. That’s what I work on.
You mention those “thoughts in your head,” which are often negative. How do you deal with that so you can get into the listening space?
It’s a recognition of your own ego. It can be a very difficult thing to do. The mental noise that’s going on —it’s just conditioned thinking. It’s the way we were brought up. So to create clarity and to get in touch with your unique creative voice, recognize that uniqueness. You have to create an opening for that. You need courage. Because sometimes, your unique voice —it shouldn’t fit in. It might not be what everybody else might be doing. The way to do it is to have the desire to do it. You have to want to find your own unique creative potential. That has to be a burning desire. The rest will just follow. It has to.
When it starts following, then you might start to recognize the obstacles to your unique creative talent. But those obstacles are not in the outside world like most people think. “I can’t be uniquely creative if I don’t have this gear or that amount of money or this person doesn’t sign me to this…” This is all nonsense. The ability to block your creative potential—it’s only you that can do that. It’s usually due to insecurity and fear. You just have to recognize that these thoughts are destructive to your creative health, but you have to be able to recognize that. Then you have a choice to not buy into that. That’s where the opening happens.
Is that what separates a great musician from the rest of us?
Yes. When you’re standing in a room with Frank Zappa, the man had no limitations. As far as his creativity, there’s no “no.” It’s just, “Okay, let’s do it.” I see that with a lot of people I work with. Anybody I’ve ever known who’s come up with anything fresh and new and unique and interesting has been very confident in their vision, with no excuses and no prejudice. Everybody’s capable of this.