Why I Still Can’t Shred at 47 (And Why That’s Totally Okay)

I’ve been playing guitar since I was 18. Now, I’m closer to 50 than 20. That’s over three decades with a six-string slung over my shoulder. And no, I still can’t shred.

When someone hears that you’ve played guitar for 30 years, there’s an assumption that you must be able to peel off Eddie Van Halen licks in your sleep or bust out a note-for-note solo from “Eruption” before breakfast. But here’s the thing: I didn’t spend the last three decades chasing speed or technique. I spent them chasing songs.

This surprises a lot of people.

I played rhythm guitar in alternative rock bands during the ’90s. Back then, it wasn’t about blistering solos or technical wizardry. It was about raw emotion, fuzzy chords, and lyrics about heartbreak, growing up, and trying to make sense of the world. We strummed power chords with feeling. We wrote songs about love and girls and the kind of late-night thoughts that only made sense when they were amplified through a cranked-up amp.

Shredding wasn’t the goal. Connecting was.

And honestly? That hasn’t changed.

If you’re someone who’s been playing for years but still feels “behind” because you can’t solo like Steve Vai or Joe Satriani, let me tell you something: don’t worry about shredding. Play what you love. Play what makes you feel something. There is no scorecard. There is no finish line. If you can play a song that moves you—or better yet, a song that moves someone else—you’re doing it right.

Some of the most iconic songs of our time are built on simple chords and honest lyrics. You don’t need to be a virtuoso to write something meaningful. You don’t need lightning-fast fingers to make a room go quiet.

So if you’re closer to 50 than 20, and you’re still strumming your old Telecaster on the weekends, know this: your playing matters. Your voice matters. Keep writing. Keep playing. Keep making noise in your own way.

Because that’s what guitar is really about—not shredding, but expression.