This article is written by Toru Hoshino, founder of Line on Bass online bass school.
I want to try jazz. But how?
That was where I was at 26 — a part-time worker, a pink-haired rocker.
↑ That’s me back then. This is the story of the very long, very roundabout road I took — from the moment I first thought “I want to try jazz” to the moment I finally played at my first recital.
Contents
From “I’m Curious” to Signing Up for Lessons
A Conversation at the Rehearsal Studio (With the Lady at the Front Desk)
“Hey, I want to try playing jazz.”
“Then come to the session we run here. You can play blues, right?”
“Probably… (what’s blues?) Sure, I’ll come.”
A Few Days Later — I Go to the Session
I watched people playing blues and my jaw dropped. When one of them turned to me and asked “Want to join?”, my answer was immediate: “Oh no no no no no, I couldn’t!”
I declined. My girlfriend at the time was there with me. That was not a good look.
A Few Weeks Later — Back at the Studio
I worked up the nerve again. “I want to try jazz…”
The studio lady looked at me. “You keep saying that, but you didn’t actually come back to the session. That’s not how you’re going to learn jazz.”
A Few Days After That — I Actually Go to the Session (This Time Alone)
I watched the blues players again. Thought to myself: This is beyond me. And gave up again.
I kept going back and forth like this for about ten months, making basically zero progress.
I considered myself an action-oriented person — but looking back, I had three specific things holding me back:
- I couldn’t picture myself actually playing jazz
- Fear of going to a session, messing up, and getting yelled at
- No one in my circle knew anything about music outside punk rock, so I had nobody to ask
What finally broke the loop was one simple comment from that studio lady:
“Why don’t you take bass lessons?”
The idea of taking lessons had never crossed my mind. In the end, I still took another two months to actually show up for a trial lesson — partly because even though I barely understood the difference between major and minor, I had this stubborn belief that I didn’t need to be taught anything.
Total time from “I want to try jazz” to sitting down for a trial lesson: almost a full year.
My First Ever Music Lesson
I searched “jazz bass lessons” near where I lived and found a music school in Shinjuku. I booked a trial lesson and went.
The teacher asked: “What bands are you into?”
“Uh… Rancid, Laughin’ Nose…”
(Laughin’ Nose — a legendary Japanese punk band)
The look on the teacher’s face was priceless.
“Actually, what I’m going for with my band is more of an Ego-Wrappin’ kind of sound. I just can’t figure out how to construct bass lines…”
“Okay, got it. Just play something for me — anything.”
I played. “Da-da-da-da-da…”
“One thing about your pick technique — try holding it like this.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s different.”
Eight years of playing, and the very first piece of technique feedback I ever received was about how I was holding my pick. I’d done a national tour in a punk band. I was a walking ball of self-confidence. But in that moment I thought: maybe something can change here.
I walked straight to the front desk: “I’m signing up.”
The person at the front desk was very attractive. I did not ask for her number. I decided to focus on music.
From the School to My First Performance
Having a teacher meant someone who could look at where I actually was — technically and musically — and recommend the right songs and practice methods for my level.
Theory was hard at first and I struggled. But when the teacher pointed me toward a beginner jazz session course, I discovered other people were struggling with the same things I was. People from their teens to their 50s and 60s, all kinds of backgrounds, seriously wrestling with a single song and how to use its notes. We had discussions, went out for drinks, made friends.
At the same time I started to really enjoy practicing. Six months after joining the school, I got to play at my first public recital.
It cost ¥5,000 to participate. I played one song — “Straight, No Chaser” by Thelonious Monk, just the theme and walking bass, three choruses. That was it. But it was the first time I’d ever performed a non-punk-rock song in front of people, and it felt like a huge leap forward in my life.
You Don’t Need a Music Degree to Play Jazz
If I had bitten the bullet and gone straight to lessons instead of spending all those months going back and forth with the studio lady, I would have made it to that first recital a full year earlier.
Part of what held me back was a genuine belief that jazz required a music school background. Jazz seemed:
- Incomprehensible in its note choices
- Overwhelmingly theoretical
- Music for a different kind of person than me
None of that was true. It was just a fixed mindset raising the bar to an impossible height.
When people think “I’d like to try an instrument,” most of them spend way too long in the “thinking about it” phase — and that’s usually what leads to giving up.
Jazz, classical, hard rock, progressive — anything takes time to get comfortable with. Building a community of fellow players takes even longer. But plenty of people without music degrees play jazz. Plenty of working adults perform at jazz gigs regularly. It gets harder before it gets easier — but when it clicks, it gets a lot more fun.
If you’re curious, just go for it.
And if you’re still feeling uncertain, feel free to reach out anytime.
Want Personalized Feedback on Your Playing?
This is exactly the kind of thing that’s hard to fix alone — and where having a teacher makes all the difference.
At Line on Bass, I offer an online lesson service where you send me a video of your playing, and I give you specific, detailed feedback — every single day if you want.
Students from around the world are using this to fix exactly these kinds of issues and steadily improve their jazz bass skills.