Hey Guitarists,

It's not just you. 

Over the last 20+ years of playing, teaching, and obsessing over guitar, I’ve come to believe there’s one challenge that sits quietly at the center of it all—something that makes mastering guitar uniquely difficult. And it’s not sweep picking, jazz changes, or even motivation.

It’s maintenance debt.

Let me explain.

Talent, Then Traction

One of my favorite things to do is trace a guitarist’s evolution. Not just their sound—but their whole journey. What they sounded like early on. What they sound like now. How much they kept, how much they let go.

Last year I revisited B.B. King’s earliest recordings and followed his career up through the 2000s. I’ve done the same with players like Tom Quayle and Paul Gilbert. The pattern is striking. In the early years, their talent is everywhere—different genres, different techniques, massive vocabularies of licks.

But over time, they shed things. They simplify. Not because they’re getting lazy, but because they’re getting focused.

And I think I understand why.

What Maintenance Debt Feels Like

Let’s say someone spends six months mastering classical guitar. Great. Then they spend the next six months mastering thrash metal. That’s a full year of focused work. But after six months away from classical guitar, those skills soften. Sloppy slides, missed fingerings, lost clarity.

At that point, they have to maintain one skill while growing another.

It becomes a constant trade-off. Each new strength creates a new obligation. A new weight to carry.

The more styles and techniques you master, the more you have to juggle—and the more time it takes just to keep from regressing.

That’s maintenance debt. The cost of trying to keep everything alive.

It’s not only about time—it’s about mental energy. Switching between ten different things for five minutes each feels productive on paper, but in reality, it’s exhausting. It kills flow. It drains focus.

What I Did (And What I See)

I’ve been there. I tried to do everything—classical, jazz, metal, fingerstyle, tapping. I even glued on fake nails to experiment with classical tone on electric guitar.

But the more I tried to maintain, the more scattered everything became.

What I’ve seen—both in myself and in other players—is this: the great ones find their core. Not as a limitation, but as a foundation. They discover what truly moves them, and they build from there.

For me, that’s solo guitar and legato. Those are the skills I feel at home in. Practicing those things doesn’t feel like maintenance—it feels like music. And when I want to touch sweep picking or two-hand tapping, I do. But I don’t try to be everything at once.

Find What’s Yours

If you’re in the middle of your own musical identity crisis—know this: You don’t have to do everything. You don’t have to carry the weight of every genre or technique you’ve ever touched.

You just need to dig deep and figure out what really moves you. Not what sounds impressive. Not what your teachers said you should like. But what lights you up.

And once you find that center… everything else can revolve around it.

Life Long Guitarist Program

The Life Long Guitarist Program is still currently closed to new members. But if you’re in that stage where you’re trying to build a path around what matters most, the Life Long Guitarist Program was built for you.

We build a custom 12-week plan around your goals, musical preferences, and unique playing style.

The next round opens on May 29th.

If you’re ready to simplify, clarify, and finally make consistent progress, join the waitlist here and I’ll let you know the moment it opens.

Talk soon,

Andre