Private lesson supposed to expand her horizons but frustrates her instead
LOS ANGELES – MAY 22, 2008 – Pop princess Avril Lavigne wanted to increase her marginal keyboard skills, so she enlisted the services of one of the top piano instructors in Los Angeles. She brought us along for her first – and only – lesson, which took place Thursday at The Music Emporium downtown before she set off on Saturday for the European leg of her Best Damn Tour.
Instructor Phil Marciano was a studio and session musician for 24 years before retiring and taking on a limited clientele for private lessons. He was waiting in his studio on the second floor of The Music Emporium when Lavigne showed up at 2 p.m. with a sheet music notebook and a six-pack of Moosehead beer.
Avril has “nice structure”
“I’ve heard some of your playing on your records,” Marciano told Lavigne. “You have nice structure for someone so young.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lavigne said and plopped down behind a Yamaha electric piano across from Marciano’s Baldwin baby grand.
“It means you have nice structure.”
“Oh, you mean my playing.” Lavigne laughed. “I thought you meant . . . well, never mind. So, what are you going to teach me?”
“I like to start new students off with a simple TV show theme, just to kind of see where they’re at and what glitches we’ll need to begin working on.”
“Great,” Lavigne said and twisted open a beer.
“There really is no drinking in the studio,” Marciano said.
“Oh, it’s okay, I’m twenty-two. I mean twenty-three.” She stopped and counted on her fingers. “I’m over twenty-one.”
Marciano sat down at his piano.
“So what kind of TV show?” Lavigne said. “Like Sex in the City? Grey’s Anatomy? Something racy like Cops?”
“No,” Marciano said. “The Bob Newhart Show. The theme is called ‘The Home to Emily.’”
“What the fuck?”
Avril not happy with musical selection
Marciano moved right into it. “There are four parts to the song,” he said. “There’s the intro, and all that is is this nineteen-seventies thing where you go between D, E, G, and D, F, G. Like this.” He played the opening chords.
“Nineteen-seventies?” Lavigne said, perplexed.
“It was right before the nineteen-eighties,” Marciano said.
“Well, duh, I can fucking count backwards.”
“And you only do that once,” Marciano went on. “And you can put G in the bass there. You only do that once, because the drums kick in – do-do-do-da-da. And then you play two chords: a C with an F eleventh, all right?
“F what?” Lavigne said, scribbling in her notebook.
“F eleventh. It’s an F, A, C, E, G in the right hand, or just F and G, C, E, G on top of a B flat, so it’s kind of a funky jazz chord.” Marciano banged out two chords. “And you can either be staccato there, or hold it, or do it however you want. I mean, make the song your own – we’re playing for fun, right?
Lavigne drank some beer. “Is that what this is?”
“Do you know the song?” Marciano asked her.
“I don’t even know who Bob Newhart is.”
Marciano laughed a little. “So you got that little intro . . .” He played the intro again. “Da-da-da-da-da.” He played the two chords again. “And then you gotta wait for a couple seconds, if you know the song, before you get into the actual chorus, which is comprised of going between a D flat and then it’s a . . oh, you know how you have an F sharp chord on top of an A flat? . . .” He played the chord. “Which resolves back to the D flat? What you’ll do is, you’ll go between that D flat, put that F sharp on top of the A flat, and then you’ll go to an E flat with an A flat on top of a B flat. So . . .”
He played two chords. Lavigne looked completely lost.
“This isn’t anything like ‘Slipped Away,’” she said. “I just use normal chords and shit on that.”
“Would you like to play me a little of it?” Marciano said.
“Well, no, not right now, cause my voice is still fucked up from laryngitis.”
“Okay, so you go . . .” Marciano played for several seconds. “And you know, if you know this song, that that resolves into something that’s a little bit slower. And, mind you, I’m not going to explain how to play the melody or anything, that’s . . . listen to the song, you’ll be able to pick it out.”
“I don’t have time to listen to the song,” Lavigne almost yelled. “I gotta go on tour Saturday. I just need to learn it!”
“Are you planning on playing it at your concerts?” Marciano asked.
“Oh, my God!” Lavigne shrieked. “I’m going to be playing in Europe and England – nobody over there knows that song. I don’t even think they have televisions.”
“Well, I have confidence, you can do it if you want to, all right?”
Lavigne finished her beer and reached for another one.
“Particularly,” Marciano said, “if you love the song and you want to learn how to play it, it’s going to be a snap.”
Lavigne snapped the top off a new beer.
Avril is baffled by the chord progressions
“But knowing the chords is really key here. You can either resolve from that part into the fourth part by using a C on top of a D . . .” He played a couple bars. “Cause then you’ll go into like a . . . I believe that’s a G major seventh, just a big, fat, rich chord. Or you can use like a funky chord off of an A flat in the bass . . . “ He demonstrated.
“Amazing,” Lavigne said and wiped a trail of beer off her chin with her sleeve.
“It’s really just basic,” Marciano said.
“No, I mean it’s amazing that I’m paying two hundred dollars an hour for something I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
Marciano continued. “Okay, so, again, once you get to that fourth part, you’re going to move between that G . . .” He played it. “To a C major seventh.” He played that. “And there’s a part in the melody in that where you actually make it like a C minor sixth.” He played it. “And then if you want to put the tag at the end, the little part where, you know, before they actually go into the show, that . . .” He did a little run. “All that is is C, B, G, E, A, but that A is the actual chord, and it’s just a big, fat A.” He pounded an A and demonstrated the run leading into it.
“The A is the white key between the second and third little black ones, right?” Lavigne said, proud that she was following at least that much.
“Essentially,” Marciano said.
“There is no way I can do that,” Lavigne said. “Can you teach me this Blackheart song on a guitar?”
“Newhart.”
“Can you teach me this Newhart song on a guitar?”
“The best way to learn this is going to be to play along with it,” Marciano said. “I mean, if you can just jot down the chords as I’ve mentioned them and then go listen to the song, you’ll pick it up. And here is my lame attempt at playing ‘The Home to Emily.’ It might not be so lame, but it’s not that great, either. I just put it together today. So, here we go.”
He played the whole song. It was poppy and fluid. Lavigne was about to pull her hair out. When he finished, she stood up.
“Thank you, Mr. Newhart, for that lesson . . .”
“Marciano,” Marciano said.
Lavigne screamed: “Thank you, Mr. MARCIANO, for that lesson, but I gotta get out of here before I fucking lose my mind!” With that she picked up her six-pack and her notebook and ran for the door.
“Stars are so temperamental,” Marciano said when she was gone. “But she’s young, she’ll come around.”
When asked how it was that he accepted her as a student when she clearly isn’t advanced enough for his level of instruction, Marciano said, “Money. She thinks she’s paying me two hundred an hour. Her record company guaranteed me five thousand for the first lesson and fifteen hundred per lesson from then on if she actually got something out of the first one.”
Marciano closed the lid on his piano. “At least I made an easy five grand. The music business is a good game, if you get in with the right people.”
(Editor’s note: Thanks to soonerryan2000 on YouTube for most of “Marciano’s” dialogue. Ryan played this song beautifully and taught it beautifully, although we were all about as confused as Avril in trying to learn it. Check it out, see what you think. We think Ryan is a STAR!)
