It’s all intervals

It was summer of 1967, in Montréal. I'd been hanging out with a flute player from Boston called Danny and we were playing music in the park on top of Mt Royal. He played along with everything I could throw at him. I'd been playing my guitar for 6 years at that stage, and while I was pretty good at it, I still had no idea what it was I was playing. My good ear for music made it easy for me to find the notes and chords I was looking for, but I had no idea how it all fit together. I certainly had no idea how Danny was able to play along and get it right all the time. So I asked him how he was doing it. His answer still rings clear as a bell today: "It's all intervals", he told me. Even though at the time it meant nothing to me, it was one of the biggest lessons I ever learned.

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