The Right Notes

Strength Training, Jazz, and the Death of Complexity

“It’s not the notes you play, it’s the notes you don’t play.” -Miles Davis

The Space Between Notes

I was listening to an old interview between Mark Rippetoe and Marty Gallagher and one point hit me harder than most of the complicated training discussions people obsess over today.

They were talking about how novice lifters often end up with the most complicated training of anyone in the gym.

At first that sounds backwards. Beginners are supposed to keep things simple, right?

But that is exactly the point.

Beginners need simplicity because they are not yet strong enough, skilled enough, or experienced enough to benefit from complexity. Advanced lifters also end up training with simplicity, but for completely different reasons. They have already gone through the maze. They know what matters and what does not. They understand that most of the noise is just noise.

Somewhere in the middle is where people get lost.

That is where the spreadsheet addiction starts. That is where lifters begin treating training like day trading. Every session becomes an optimization problem. Velocity trackers. Readiness scores. Twelve specialty bars. Thirty-seven variations. Constant novelty disguised as intelligence.

Marty used a jazz musician analogy that I loved.

The novice musician wants to play as many notes as possible, as fast as possible. They want everybody in the room to know they can move their fingers. They want to impress. It is performance without restraint.

The experienced musician understands something deeper. The magic is often in the space between the notes. Timing. Rhythm. Feel. Choosing the right note instead of every possible note.

Training works the same way.

The beginner thinks more exercises equals more progress. More intensity, circuits, hacks, and information. Every workout has to feel like a movie training montage or they think nothing happened.

But experienced lifters know something that takes years to fully understand.

Results usually come from doing a few important things brutally well for a brutally long time.

A hard set of squats done consistently for five years will build more strength than an endless parade of “muscle confusion.” A simple walk every day will outperform the perfect wearable-driven recovery protocol that gets abandoned in three weeks. Most people do not need more complexity. They need more repetitions of the basics.

This is true outside the gym too.

Young fighters throw everything with maximum effort. Experienced fighters conserve energy and land clean shots. New writers try to cram every idea into every sentence. Experienced writers know what to leave out. New coaches talk constantly because silence feels uncomfortable. Experienced coaches know when one sentence is enough.

The internet rewards noise, though. Simplicity does not sell very well. “Do the basics consistently for ten years” is not an exciting thumbnail. Nobody wants to hear that the answer might be squats, deadlifts, sleep, walking, healthy food, patience, and shutting up long enough to listen to your body.

People want secret knowledge.

The problem is that complexity often becomes a substitute for effort.

If you are constantly redesigning the program, buying new equipment, switching methodologies, or searching for the perfect split, you never have to confront the uncomfortable truth that progress usually comes from consistency and hard work done without applause.

Advanced lifters eventually circle back to this.

They stop trying to prove how much they know and start focusing on what actually works. They appreciate the space between the notes. They stop trying to play faster than everyone else and start learning rhythm. Jim Wendler summed it up beautifully when he wrote that an experienced lifter is one who can get stronger while doing less.

The irony is that true mastery often looks boring from the outside. A few heavy lifts, long walks, whole foods, and an early bedtime repeated for years.

Like a great jazz musician, the advanced lifter understands that restraint is not limitation; it’s control.

I hope you enjoyed this article and until next time, stay strong and healthy!