Do you need music theory to be a good musician?

For some, music theory is an incredibly terrifying aspect of playing the guitar; so overwhelming that we quit at the first mention of the major scale. For others, there is a belief that it is confining; a musical prison where we can only do what music professors and text books tell us what is and isn’t acceptable use of our beloved twelve notes. In essence, thinking it strips away all creativity. For the rest, theory is a tool that helps us understand and get to the deeper of core of playing the instrument we love. Let’s discuss from the point of view of both a guitarist, and as a songwriter.

For most of us, we didn’t pick up the guitar wanting to sit with theory text books. We wanted to play the music that excited us. Whether it be rock, funk, country, pop, metal, jazz, or any number of genres and styles that made us pick up the guitar in the first place. Me personally, I didn’t stare at the Guns N' Roses posters on my wall wondering if Slash could improvise confidently over ‘Giant Steps’. I didn’t think ‘can Kirk Hammett effortlessly navigate his way around a II V I progression in Db major?’. I just wanted to rock, and hopefully not look like a complete and utter nerd while I did it (looking back, I definitely did).

But then, something happened. I got into Steve Vai and Joe Satriani. They made theory cool! Hearing Joe Satriani talk about modes and the moods they create started to explain so many things that I thought were reserved for the rock and metal gods. He could explain what Metallica were doing from a compositional point of view that, for me, was very exciting. I could do it, too! I could write songs in the style of my heroes, and know what I was doing when it came to writing killer solos. Hearing that some of my favourite players actually took theory lessons made me see theory as something…cool. John Frusciante from Red Hot Chili Peppers knew more theory than it was cool to mention, Kirk Hammett took lessons from Joe Satriani, Eddie Van Halen took piano and theory lessons, Paul McCartney studied theory in order to take his songwriting to another level, and Sting was even a music teacher in a secondary school!

There have been many musical situations where music theory has been incredibly useful. Even though learning theory was a huge undertaking, even getting the basics was difficult for me at the time, the time saved getting me out of a musical pickle has been worth the effort. Even knowing whether to use the major pentatonic scale or minor pentatonic scale over a given chord progression has been the difference between me being asked back for a gig or not. Sometimes I will do sessions where the non diatonic chord progression is completely over the top and I’ve been asked to not only create a melody over it, but also harmonise that melody in different areas of the neck. Thank you, theory! Learning theory to that level definitely helped me be asked back to do more sessions for that particular producer. Theory, to me, has been a short cut that has allowed me to come up with parts in the time it takes to boil a kettle.

The common argument against learning music theory is that it kills creativity. In my opinion, it does the complete opposite. I understand where people come from with that argument. There’s something pure and organic about letting your ear and your fingers do the work; digging to find the magical notes and chords to your next great song. To be honest, once I scratched the surface with theory, I found it confining. I was of the mindset that there were seven chords in a key, and they’re the only ones I can use unless I change key, a thing even in itself would be theoretically asking a lot. There are only certain scales I can use with those chords, and I would run the risk of sounding generic and a watered down version of my favourite bands and songwriters. That belief was caused by not knowing how little theory I actually knew! I didn’t know I was just scratching the surface. What I saw as a musical prison was in fact just the broom cupboard of the castle that is music theory. The more I learned, the more options opened up to me as a writer, and the more my favourite bands' songs made sense. Whenever my ear and my fingers couldn’t find what was next, organically, I would turn on the theory brain to help me find what the next part or magic chord I was searching for could be. I haven’t had writer’s block since.

Having said all that, to this day, I am still envious of friends and students of mine who know little to no music theory, and can create wonderful songs and play effortlessly over jazz changes. It’s a skill I wish I could possess. From knowing no theory at all to years later writing a book on the subject, I felt that as I progressed on the instrument, the theory was essential. I am in awe of anyone who has the skills and talent do everything I do and more without any apparent knowledge of theory. When I ask them how they do it, I get two different answers:

1. They seem to know shapes and patterns that work for them, but they don’t know the names and terms for what they’re doing. Almost relating the notes and chords together in their own unique way. But nevertheless is, in essence, theory.
2. The second answer I get is ‘I don’t know’. These people are the people I admire the most. The ones whose ears are so good, that their ear simply guides them to what sounds best. A couple of students springs to mind. It didn’t matter what chords I threw at them, they could effortless navigate their way around some very heavy theoretical concepts, purely by ear alone. To me, that is pure talent.

Did The Beatles need theory to write great songs? Did Slash need theory to create some of the most iconic solos in rock? Did Ed Sheeran write ‘Castle on the Hill’ with Grade 8 theory knowledge? Would Steve Vai have created some of the best instrumental guitar music if he didn’t know what a minor pentatonic scale was? To me, despite the length of this blog, the discussion is somewhat pointless. I felt I needed theory to unlock doors, creatively. Like looking under the bonnet to see how a car works. Did I need to know how the engine worked before I got behind the wheel? No, but it helped if I ever ran into problems. The more songs and solos we learn, we will pick up theoretical concepts even if we don’t necessarily file it under ‘theory’ in our brain’s filing cabinet.

At the end of the day, try new things every day. If it sounds good, then it is good. If you want to know why it sounds good, go ahead and study the theory behind it. If you couldn’t care less, then don’t. One of my old guitar teachers always used to say, "there’s a reason it’s called music theory and not music fact”. Even if it theoretically works, it’s not always the right way to go. I always try to bear that in mind when discovering new avenues as a player and a writer. I suggest you do the same.