Aura Lee is done. You played it. Some of you played it with your eyes closed. 😌 So now it's your turn to choose what's next. Four songs on the table. Two slow and pretty, two that are pure fun. 𝗔𝗺𝗮𝘇𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 — the one that makes a room go quiet. Simple enough to learn in a week, beautiful enough to keep playing for years. 𝗖𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗗 — the wedding one. Eight chords that repeat forever, which means once you have them, you have them. This is one of those popular pieces adults tell me they wish they could play. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗘𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗿 — ragtime. Bouncy, cheeky, impossible to play without smiling. If you want something that sounds like you're showing off, this is it. 𝗖𝗮𝗻 𝗖𝗮𝗻 — yes, that one. Loud, fast, ridiculous. Your neighbours will know exactly what you're doing. Same setup as always. Falling keys video, simplified arrangement, backing track, and we take it apart together in the classroom. Vote below. Voting closes 𝟯𝟬 𝗔𝘂𝗴𝘂𝘀𝘁, then I get to work. P.S. If you want a different format, or perhaps another workshop.. please let me know in the comments below. 😀

Two takes of the same eight measures of Aura Lee. 𝗦𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀, 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗿𝗵𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗺, 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗼. Version A is choppy. Every note sits there as its own separate sound with nothing connecting it to the next one. 𝗩𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗕 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴. Nothing changed except how I connected the notes. That's 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘰, and it's the difference between playing the right notes and playing music. This is the kind of thing we work on in Studio. Practice Room gets you the notes and the rhythm. Studio is where we go after the sound. 🎶 The full run-through is in Studio if you want to work through it. ✨

This is one of my younger students playing a jazz duet with me. My part is the one up in the higher register, and if you listen to it on its own, it's busy. It moves around, it lands in his gaps, and it sits right on top of the space where his ear wants to be. From where he's sitting, it's a lot to play through. 𝗛𝗲 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁. When you practise on your own, there's nothing in the room telling you where you are. You think you're steady, but you have no way of checking. You slow down slightly before a chord change and speed up slightly after it, and because nothing objects, it starts to feel normal. I hear it all the time with adult learners who have done the work and know the notes properly. The playing is accurate, but it still wanders, and they can't hear it happening because there's nothing to hear it against. 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝗜 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗮 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗼 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝘆. It doesn't matter whether it's me on the other end of the piano, a backing track, or the falling keys moving at tempo on the screen. The moment something else is sounding, you can feel exactly where you are. You know when you've rushed because suddenly you're early. You know when you've hesitated because you're behind. You stop guessing. That's the real reason I record accompaniments for the songs we do here and why I like using the falling keys video as a starting point. It isn't about pressure. It's about giving you a reference point, because you can't correct something you can't locate. It does feel uncomfortable at first. Most people's instinct when they hear another part is to listen to it and drift into it. Holding your own line while something else is happening around you is a skill, and it takes a bit of time. But once you have it, your playing settles in a way that practising alone will never give you. If you've only ever played by yourself, try playing Aura Lee in the Practice Room with the accompaniment track. (Rung 2)

I made lasagne for the first time last night and I need to publicly apologise to every restaurant I have ever side-eyed for their lasagne prices. Things nobody warned me about: 1. The meat sauce takes FOREVER. Not because it's hard, but because you have to sit there and let it cook down until it stops being soup. I kept thinking "surely that's enough now." 2. I made the mornay sauce from scratch. Butter, flour, milk, whisking like my life depended on it. 3. The cheese. THE CHEESE. I went through so much cheese that I had to stop and have a quiet moment about it. 4. Then you layer it all up and it disappears into one dish and the food disappears faster than I can say hemidemisemiquaver. Anyway. Charge whatever you want, restaurants. I get it now. What are you guys cooking or having over the weekend? 🍕 🍟 🍔 🍅 🍜

I've stopped thinking about practice as one thing. For years I taught it as though there was a session — a proper one, forty-five minutes, warm-up through cool-down — and anything less was a compromise. Which is fine if you're twelve and it's after school. It's useless if you're forty-three and it's 9pm and you've just got the kids down. 😴 So I've gathered everything into one place and organised it by the size of the day you're having. It's at the top of the classroom now — 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗧𝗼𝗼𝗹𝗸𝗶𝘁. 𝗦𝗶𝘅𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱𝘀. The One Minute Drill, which some of you already know. It's not there because it's the most useful thing on the shelf. It's there because it's the one you can't talk yourself out of. 𝗧𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘂𝘁𝗲𝘀. Today's Practice — open it at the piano on your phone and it walks you through a session one step at a time. You don't plan anything, you just follow it. There's a longer version too if you've got the time. 𝗙𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘂𝘁𝗲𝘀, 𝗻𝗼 𝗽𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗼. A short assessment that shows you which of the five shifts you've already made. Most people are further along than they think. 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰. Playing By Feel — four principles from a student who closed his eyes mid-song and finally sounded like himself. None of it is tied to a particular song. Use it with whatever you're working on. And tell me honestly: on a normal week, how long do you actually get at the piano?