Minnesota
by Jody Alis         

Inside the Heart of Bryan Bowers- The Formative Years
An Interview, by Vicki Ingle
In Part II of Bryan Bower’s story, we pick up at the point where he is telling us how he worked to develop his skills as a musician. 

Bryan:  I started to make progress (on the autoharp) because I was playin’ before I left the house.  I was playin’ as soon as I left the side of the newspaper building that was out on my route.  I was playin’ until I got to the next customer.  And, I played all day, I played my lunch hour away, I played the afternoon away.  I came home and did whatever I needed to do for my family.  And then I played in the evening, ‘till I fell asleep.
I had a closet, I had a huge closet, you know, fifty, seventy-five suits would have fit in.  And I put a light bulb in there, and I went in there and I went in there and I had a little chair and I’d sit in there and play, just in the closet, by myself.  I wasn’t tryin’ to play for my wife or son or anything.  I was just tryin’ to figure out how this thing worked. How I could hear this stuff in my head that I couldn’t play with my fingers.  And I was totally obsessed with it. 

Friends didn’t even know I was doin’ it until my wife finally told them I was nuts about this music, that I kept playing it and that I was in the closet like a crazy man and that she hated it, but then in spite of herself, she said it sounded really good and you should come hear sometimes.  They said, “You’re kiddin’.”  She said, “No,” so they came, and they heard, outside the (closet) door.  And then they immediately beat on the door and wanted me to come to the coffee house.  I said, “You’re nuts, get out of here.”  And I wouldn’t do it.  And they were after me all of the time, from then on, for awhile.  I forget how long; weeks, months, it was quite awhile I think.  Because I just didn’t want to do it, I didn’t see any point in it. 

But they finally got me to go to the coffee house and play.  When I did, I was so terrified to sit in front of people and play that I only opened my eyes to walk up the steps to the chair.  Then I sat down and closed my eyes and didn’t say a word and just started playin’.  And I played a couple songs and they clapped real loud and stuff and I got off the stage.  And I did that two or three times over the next couple of weeks.  They’d get me to get down there once a week or somethin’, you know.  And then finally one night I opened my eyes, after the applause, and I looked up and everyone was smilin’ and laughin’ and stuff. I thought, why am I so…  Why am I shuttin’ my eyes?  I don’t need to shut my eyes to these people.  They’re not… Its just, I’m just like playin’ this like I would play it for my friends in the livin’ room, you know.

And so, I just got real loose with talkin’ to people on stage and bein’ part of… bein’ part of…  I’m the show, but I’m also part of the crowd, man, ‘cause I got a lot of ruminations about life in general.  It’s not just the songs, it’s not just the instrumentals.  Although I’ve won awards for instrumentals and I’ve had people record my songs.  That’s only the nuts and bolts.  The fabric that holds it together is me, the human being and all the stories.  My take on life is illuminative, for me and hopefully for other people sometimes.  You know, I just see things in a different way and share that with people from the stage sometimes.

Vicki:  As you’re talking, one thing that strikes me and actually what occurred to me as I read the (magazine) articles was the sheer amount of hours that you put in with your instrument.  I don’t know what you do now.  But the piece I thought you could be helpful to some other musicians would be to talk about that a little bit, the time it takes to get to where you are, you know.

Bryan:  Well, you know, I had no training.  I didn’t have any lessons.  I didn’t have any vocal lessons, I didn’t have any instrumental lessons.  I was just trying to figure it out.  And I started noticin, early on, there were a couple huge breakthroughs.  I mean, first off, no matter how many hours I played and no matter how many fulfilling moments I had, I never seemed to be as good as I wished I was.  And, that’s true to this day even.  Although I’ve won all of these awards – I’m still learnin’.  But, the hours thing - I don’t even think of it in terms of hours.

Its like you get a tune and you want to learn how to play it, figure how to do it.  I was doin’ that…figurin’ how to take chord bars off I didn’t want to use very often and use the ones I did use, more often.  So I did that.  It gave me some room to play on the harp ‘cause I didn’t have so many chord bars in the way.  Then the tips of the chord bar holders were stickin’ up in the air…  I thought, gee, if I cut those off, I’d really have room.  So I cut them off and I did have more room.  And then I thought, hell, I got all these leftover notes that are not bein’ used…I can double them in.  Either a half-step high or a half-step low and make the chords I do have, fatter, more resonant…  I figured out that I didn’t have to stay in chromatic tuning anymore.  I could go to diatonic, sweet scale tuning, where I could flat the thirds, and make the sounds even fatter, richer, fuller and sweeter.   So I did that. 
And by that time I figured all that out and brought it out on the table, not knowin’ what I had done.  As I look back on it, I know now what I did.  But not knowin’ what I’d done, I just done this thing that led me down the path.  I kept hearin’ this sweet, sweet beautiful melody.  And so, that’s what I did with some of the things like that.  And, the consequence was, when I kinda…when they finally got me out the door, I was startin’ to get work right away.  People didn’t know what to make of it, but they knew it was something magic.
But I had played and played and played.  It was nothin’ for me to play 12, 14, 16, 18, 20 hours a day, seven days a week.  That went on for over a decade.  To this day, 40 years later, I still play probably a couple three hours a day.  And that’s whether I’m workin’ or not.  And, if I’m workin’ I play more.  ‘Cause I play during the day, even before I’m workin’, you know.  There was a breakthrough to realize the hours do add up….they add up really good in terms of your playin’ ability.  If you don’t keep count, but if you just play for the love of it and play for the love of the tune you’re learnin’ that moment, that day, that hour – man oh man, you know, that takes on a different life of its own.  The measurement of what’s goin’ on is not how many thousands of hours have I played.  The measurement is how many tunes do I know.  How many tunes do I know that I can really play, really great, in the right key, and go out and sing ‘em and play ‘em for people and havin’ ‘em be really enjoyin’ it.  How many tunes do I do?  That’s the measure, for me.

So there was that.  That was a huge thing.  And then vocally, Louie Killen, the great sea shanty, sea shanty singer and ballad singer, from over in England - He came to me, years ago, he was drinkin’ in them days, he’s now no longer, he’s sober.  He came to me at a festival, one of the Canadian festivals, and started in with the, “Oh, I really love what you do, I love your singin’ and your playin’, the way you entertain and everything.” 
And then he took me aside from these people, away from other people, so they couldn’t hear him and he said, “But I want to tell you somethin’ Bryan, you could really stand to key-check your songs better.”  And I said, “What do you mean?”  He said, “Well, some of them you’re singin’ too high and you go up for the high note,” and he says, “I’m cringin’ cause I’m not sure you’re gonna make it.” And, he said, “If I’m cringin’, I’m not the only one that’s cringin’. Anybody’s got a set of ears is cringin’.  You’re not hearin’ that you’re too close to the edge of your break point and your high point of your voice.”  He said, “You need to key-check your songs better.” I said, “Ah, thanks.”  He said, “Not only that,” he said, “you think you got some Johnny Cash timber down low.”  He said, “You don’t have the timber.  You don’t have the big, heavy bass resonance, you know, you don’t have the timber to carry that.”  He said, “You sound ridiculous singin’ too low,” he said, “so, you need to up your bottom key some too.” I said, “Thanks again, Louie.”   And he said, “You’re welcome.”

So then, I went and I meticulously key-checked all my songs and found indeed he was right.   And, I altered every song I was doin’.  I went through my whole repertoire, current and past and whatever.  I started key-checkin’ each song meticulously.  I still do to this day.  And immediately, immediately – here’s the funny part – immediately, as soon as I started goin’ around after the new key-check, which was within a few days, everywhere I went, people were sayin’ (my friends, buyers, the people in the audience)  “god, your singin’ is better than ever…you’re singin’ so much better…boy, your voice has really gotten better.”  I’m like, yeah, thank you Louie Killen. 
And so, that went on for several years and I never saw Louie.   Then I saw him again, years later, and I told him a big thank you.  He looked blankly at me and said, “I never would have done that.”  And I said, “What are you talkin’ about?”  He said, “No, I never would have done that.  I’d never have the nerve to say anything to anybody like that,” he said.  “No, I don’t remember, I think you’re thinkin’ of somebody else.”  I said, “Louie Killan, I’m telling you it was you.”  I said, “You know, you were drinkin’ in them days.”  He said, “Yeah.”  I said, “You were drinkin’, you were pretty lit up.”  He says, “Oh, boy.”  And I said, “Well, I’m not holdin’ it against you, I’m thankin’ you to my dyin’ day, man.  You helped me with a huge thing.”  He said, “No, no, I still don’t believe it.”  He still don’t believe it to this day, Vicki.  But I’m gonna tell you I’ll swear on a stack of bibles, Louie Killan helped me huge, big time by telling me to get my ass in gear and get a key-check on every song I did…. 
You know, what was so classy about it, not only did he do it (I know he still says no, he didn’t), but not only did he give me the advice, he took me aside in private.  He did not tell me this in front of anybody where it could be construed that he was tryin’ to demean me or belittle me in front of my friends.  He gave it to me as a gift.  It reminded me of my dad’s old sayin’.  He had a sayin’, “Son, anybody will blow in your ear and tell you you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread, but it’s a true friend that will take you aside and tell you when you’re (expletive) up.”     

Vicki:  I was struck by this – People have called you the world’s greatest autoharp player…

Bryan:  I always cringe at that, I cringe at that, I cringe at that, I just cringe at that!  I mean, it just has to make every other autoharp player in the world feel like, boy, I’d like to smack him with a stick!  When I was on the “Real People” show, George Schlatter, the guy who created “Laugh-in,” the Goldie Hawn break-through TV show…my old manager knew him and told him about me and so he had me on the “Real People” show.  And they did the run-through and they introduced me as the world’s greatest autoharp player and I stopped them right there and said, “No, none of that, I don’t want that, that’s not the intro.  Say anything you want, but don’t call me the world’s greatest autoharp player.”  So, they looked at each other and laughed…and said, “Ok, here’s Bryan Bowers.”  I did the thing, the rehearsal, you know.  Then, that evening when the live show came on, and they introduced me, it was, “Here’s the world’s greatest autoharp player, Bryan Bowers.  And I was on stage, on national (expletive) TV.  So, what was I gonna do?  So, I did the song, but I was so pissed.  At the show later, at the little cocktail party later, post-show, George Schlatter was there and I saw him across the room and I’d had about three glasses of champaign.  I was still stewin’ about it.  And I got lit up and I glared at him and he looked at me and saw I was pissed and looked right through me, wouldn’t even make eye contact.  And, I finally stormed up to him and said, “That was a cheap shot, man.”  He just laughed it off and his assistant came over and said, “What’s the trouble here, let me help you out Mr. Bowers.”  The assistant came over and let me vent my wrath.  That was his job, to let me vent my wrath, I guess.  So anyway, later on, I got over myself and that’s the way it was on TV…something to that effect…world’s greatest autoharp player…