Always Have a Piece: Why Repertoire Study Matters

When I think about my own practice routine as a musician and teacher, one thing stands out: I never practice scales and arpeggios in isolation. Don't get me wrong—technical work is essential. But it's the piece I'm working on that actually keeps me connected to why I'm practicing in the first place.

Here's my philosophy: always have at least one piece of repertoire that you're actively learning. Whether it takes three months or six months to really master it, this becomes your anchor. It's the piece that speaks to you, the one you keep coming back to because it means something.

For me, this might be a jazz standard on guitar to improve my improvisation skills, or an obscure electronic artists song arranged for piano. But it could just as easily be an electronic piece, a hip hop tune, or anything else that speaks to you. The genre doesn't matter. What matters is that it genuinely calls to you. Even if the original doesn't feature your instrument, you can adapt it. Find the melody, hunt down sheet music if you need it, or work by ear and train your listening skills in the process. That's all part of the learning. I'm constantly asking myself: what piece do I want to learn next? What music actually speaks to me, regardless of genre? Then I commit to the process of getting there—not rushing it, but living with it over months.

Here's why this matters alongside your technical work: scales and arpeggios build the foundation, sure. But a repertoire piece gives those exercises purpose. When you're learning a piece you genuinely care about, suddenly the finger patterns and muscle memory from your scales make sense. You're not just drilling—you're building toward something.

This approach works especially well if you're the kind of learner who thinks deeply about music, who wants to understand not just the mechanics but the feeling behind what you're playing. If you're quirky, creative, introspective—if you learn best when something genuinely resonates with you—then having that one piece to anchor your practice becomes everything.

So my advice is simple: don't let technical work be your whole practice. Find a piece that calls to you, whatever genre it is. Commit to three, four, six months with it. Work on it alongside your exercises. Let it shape your practice, your growth, your relationship with your instrument.

That's where the real music lives.