From the beginning to the birth of Just Gracey

Harris’ Q&A

 
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What are all the instruments you have? 
I have six acoustic guitars (Brownie, Napoleon, The Gary Sammich, Roselynne, Robin Hood, & Jesabelle—my newest and most treasured, Gibson J-45), two electric guitars (Ringo & the mini squire), an old Fender Mustang bass guitar named Oscar, five ukuleles (Teddy Roosevelt & Natalie are my favorites; Katulu is a soprano; the baritone, and my newest Kala brand concert uke don’t have names yet), my 12-String acoustic named Isabelle, two wooden cajons—or box drums—my first one was built by my dad and I and it does not have a name, the second with Walnut face plate is one we call R2-D2; there’s also the Casio keyboard, an old Roland electric organ, and of course the ever groovy melodica. Lastly, Neville, my beloved maple banjo who replaced ol’ Benjamin—plus a Hagrid handful of percussive tots, some handmade.

•What was your first instrument? Tell us about your journey with music.

That Squire Stratocaster Mini; black with a white pick guard. Pretty much one of the coolest, most iconic looking guitars—although of course it was far from anything fancy. I got it for Christmas, the year I wanted to play electric guitar; sitting by the fireplace with a little amp and a dozen picks! I just wanted to rock like Drake Bell.

I took my first two months of lessons at a local instructional studio in Madison—very exciting! I would bring my “Teach Yourself to Play Guitar” booklet, and my instructor would go through the exercises with me, checking off one page at a time.

My friend John played too, and he taught me a few intros to songs I had seen on guitar hero: “One” by Metallica, “Rock You Like a Hurricane” by Scorpions, and “Iron Man” by Ozzy Osborne. I quit taking lessons and these were my go-to’s for a few years. I didn’t play often, but approaching 10 years old, I knew everyone would think I was cool if they found out that I could play electric guitar. All I really had were those three riffs and a page of chord shapes, until this guy Skyeler McGuire moved into my neighborhood, just three doors down. (See what I did there?)

Skyeler was a year older, not only in age but also in music. For my twelfth birthday I had asked for an acoustic guitar, so I started taking my new Greg Bennett (named Gary Sammich, because that’s what I thought it was called for the longest time) over to Skyeler’s, and he would teach me some chords. If he hadn’t have moved in, I could have easily quit playing. I lost a great deal of interest and motivation in those two years prior.

The summer of seventh grade rolled around in 2011, and my mother decided to enter into a songwriting festival in Nashville, Tennessee. She came from an Oklahoman family of musicians (country and bluegrass), but she primarily wrote lyrics for songs, only having played Saxophone in high school.
Grandpa lived in Decatur, AL at this time, which made it easy for them to collaborate. They came up with three songs to be performed at the festival. Noticing my revived interest in guitar, my mother asked if I would be willing to learn the songs and perform them with her. Yikes! I had never actually played for people before! It was a big deal. I had an absent knowledge of theory and an untrained ear, and grandpa didn’t have time to teach me the songs. I needed a teacher.

At this time, my mother was working as a registrar at a community college called ITT Technical Institute. Her boss was an exceptionally kind, retired-navy, motorcycle-riding, guitar-teaching handyman; we scheduled a lesson.

It was quite awkward for me at first. I had met this man before, but never knew him as anything other than “mom’s boss”, still she told me nothing but good things about him. One of the first questions he asked was “so, how many chords do you know?” To which I confidently replied, “almost all of them.”
He chuckled, “Well then I’ve got my work cut out for me because there are thousands upon thousands of chords! That’s very impressive.” (I was under the impression that the 14 major and minor chord shapes I had seen in my booklet were all that existed. Quite embarrassing when I discovered those were just some of the “main ones”.) I liked this guy, though. The lesson went well, and I was back for more. He listened to the songs and learned them by ear, then showed me the chords. (I thought nothing of it at the time, but what a powerful skill that was…I had no clue to the extent that he would later equip me—he gave me my six-string wings, and I could not be more thankful for Patrick Bryant.) Three weeks passed, and it was time to go to Nashville.

The first venue was an Irish Pub with an outdoor patio. My mother and I were both quite nervous. The air was hot and humid; a loud fan humming in the corner; someone was smoking a cigarette, and everyone sat staring at us between bites of food and swigs of beer.

I adjusted myself on the creaky stool they provided for me, and poised to play, I must have heard my mother whisper “are you ready?” five times in my ear. Here we go…okay….alright now….okay…..alright. Aaaaaaaand PLUCK I started in with the riff. Country. Foot-tappin’ with lots of slides. My guitar sliced through the room, right over the noisey fan and into the silence. It seemed like an eternity of concentration, and then there was her voice right beside me. Low, folky, and lots of twang. Okay this is happening! We are playing the song! Just don’t forget what to play next! Verse, chorus, repeat, bridge, chorus, finish! A small applause! We’ve done it (almost!).

Okay, here we go again.
Slow it down, this one is nice and easy. My confidence back up, I began with another catchy riff, and the song went along fine. Then gradually I became aware of my left leg bouncing up and down. I’m not even nervous anymore! Why is this happening? It felt like every ounce of fresh adrenaline had just been pumped into my calf. This is so embarrassing! Now they think I’m nervous! Musicians are supposed to be calm and cool! They always are!

(I realize now how silly that was! I still get nervous, and I’ve been performing consistently for four years; but that’s nothing. Even Adele gets the jitters before every show. And she’s ADELE!)

Day two of the festival: we played at a much more comfortable, indoor spot on Music Row known as The Tin Roof. The room was lively, air conditioned, and well lit. Even a group of our friends were there; they made the trip to Nashville just to support us! We were so grateful. It was all smooth sailing; first song, second, and the third. Rewarding applause! Then it was over. Short and sweet, and we felt very accomplished.
We also really liked this team we had become for the weekend, so we tried writing a few songs in the weeks that followed, and it stuck. “Just Gracey” was born, but it just didn’t have a name yet.