Image: "Sagi-no-ike Heikuro fighting gaint snake" by Utagawa Kuniyoshi
When I stopped touring with my metal band in my mid-20s, I was looking to replace the intense physical activity of life on the road with something healthier.
Jiujitsu or Brazilian jiujitsu emerged as the most compelling option for me.
And I wasn’t unique. There’s no shortage of metal musicians who have gotten hooked on jiujitsu — Maynard James Keenan from Tool, Dave Mustaine from Megadeth, and Matt Heafy from Trivium, to name just a few.
The parallels between music and jiujitsu aren’t immediately obvious, yet the amount of musicians that also practice this martial art suggests these art forms must share significant common ground.
Yes, jiujitsu will force you to be disciplined.
Yes, it might make you look better naked.
Yes, it's a "game of chess with dire physical consequences" — something you’ve undoubtedly heard if you've listened to any amount of a Joe Rogan podcast.
I won't bore you with those.
Instead, I want to offer a musical jiujitsu perspective, or let's call it Tune-Jitsu — lessons from the mats and what musicians can learn from jiujitsu about practice, improvisation, and songwriting.
Master Fundamentals Before Flashy Techniques
Shiny object syndrome is real.
I experienced it with music for years — always trying to learn another flashy guitar lick or adding a ton of songs to my jazz repertoire.
When I started jiujitsu, I fell into similar traps. I was trying fancy moves from instructional videos or (God forbid) Instagram reels the morning before class, only to fail at them miserably when it actually mattered.
Image: Helio and Carlos Gracie
Exploring novel things is fun. No judgment here. But what helped me most in jiujitsu (and music) was exploring DEEPLY into fundamental moves that work the highest percentage of the time.
You see it at the highest levels of jiujitsu with a world champion like Roger Gracie winning more competitions than anyone else by executing the most fundamental moves against the best people in the world.
As a musician, I improved the most when I started asking questions like this:
How well do I actually know a simple major or minor scale?
Do I know it everywhere on my instrument?
Can I write a melody so simple and clear that it strips away all the unnecessary instrumentation and gets to the essence of the emotion I’m trying to convey?
It wasn't until I tried flashy moves in jiujitsu that I saw how futile pursuing new things all the time was.
By training one move in jiujitsu deeply, let's say a front headlock, I not only submitted more people with that specific technique, but I also discovered it was a gateway to other positions. Even a failed front headlock can lead to back attacks, leg attacks, or takedowns I would have never seen without really studying this one move.
In music, knowing the major scale leads to better use of that scale, but also an enhanced ability to understand exotic and advanced scales, and a better foundation for melody that leads to better songwriting and improvisation.
Use Resistance As Your Guide, Not Your Enemy
The word "jiujitsu" translates into "the gentle art" — which seems crazy when you watch a match where both athletes are trying to either strangle each other unconscious or snap each other’s limbs in half.
The "gentleness" comes from a fundamental belief that is at the core of jiujitsu and most martial arts:
A smaller, "gentler" opponent who knows jiujitsu can overcome a larger, stronger opponent who doesn't.
Image: "Tengan Isobyôe and Yajin Ran" by Utagawa Kuniyoshi
Anyone who's spent time in a jiujitsu gym has seen smaller black belts completely destroy the heaviest white belts, or knowledgeable women embarrass men twice their size.
Why?
Because they KNOW what to do.
That knowledge involves anticipating how an opponent will resist and using it to your advantage.
It's not about "trying harder" and if that fails, "quit."
Resistance becomes an opportunity, not a roadblock.
As a musician, the biggest application of this principle I made was when working on the technique of changing guitar chords. It inspired my "Chord Change Code" and forms the technical foundation of my upcoming book on music.
It's true for most techniques we practice in music — they all have resistance we must grapple with.
Resistance as an opportunity also improved my songwriting process.
I'd get stuck on a song idea thinking if I just pushed through, I'd reach songwriting paradise. Jiujitsu taught me to pivot quicker.
Maybe the resistance means the tempo is wrong, or I'm in the wrong key (either too high for my voice, making me sound like I'm strangling a cat, or limiting what I can play creatively on guitar).
Instead of forging ahead, use resistance as an opportunity to explore other solutions.
Change the key.
Change the tempo.
Change the lyric if it feels awkward to sing.
Don’t just keep hammering away at the song and don't get so emotionally attached to the song being a certain way.
It would be just as stupid as thinking that an experienced black belt smashing you in some anatomically diverse position in jiujitsu is suddenly going to let you escape just because you're really passionate about getting out.
Try another way, dude!
Embrace Kaizen: The Philosophy of Small Steps
Sometimes in jiujitsu, you're completely fucked.
There's nothing you can do except "tap out" and start over. Moments like this make you feel stuck and like you’re never going to beat anyone in training ever again.
Similarly, I've felt stuck in songwriting. Sometimes I spend weeks or even months working on something that just doesn't feel right or finished.
In both jiujitsu and music, the philosophy of Kaizen is important to remember in moments like these.
It’s a Japanese compound word that translates to “good change” or “improvement” but it’s come to represent a philosophical principle of “continuous improvement.”
Image: Kaizen in kanji
My tip for songwriters that want to embrace Kaizen:
Keep a songwriting notebook.
At the end of each session, write down the specific things you worked on and did to improve the song.
Then, listen to the song and write down two or three small things you hear that could be improved the next time you work on it.
The reality is that “finish the song” or “make the song amazing” isn’t going to amount to much and will probably stress you out too much to be helpful.
However — “add a guitar melody to the second half of the verse” or “fix the last line of the pre-chorus lyric to make it flow better into the chorus” are not only actionable — they are manageable and keep you moving forward instead of being overwhelmed by ambitious outcomes.
This is the whole point of Kaizen.
As a teacher, I also see this with students all the time.
They feel guilty every week about how little they've practiced or improved.
When I hear this, I always ask:
"Was it better than zero?"
If yes, congratulate yourself.
The easiest thing is to quit, making zero progress or worse, regress.
To become good at songwriting, improvising, or playing your favorite songs, focus on tiny progress every day — regardless of whether you see results.
And at the risk of my writing inspiring some beige-colored Bed, Bath, & Beyond wall decor:
If you plant something in a garden, you might not see day-by-day changes.
Trust that with daily care, it's absolutely growing.
One day, it will bear fruit.
Just don't stop watering or pluck it out of the ground because you can't see it!
Make Practice Real - Because Reality Is Messy
The nature of practice is artificial.
It is much easier to do something alone in your room than in a real world situation.
Insert sexually explicit analogy here.
In music as in jiujitsu (or in my love life/lack thereof) I’ve repeatedly noticed that the practice we commit to doing alone doesn’t always translate to good outcomes onstage or in the studio.
I can practice the same guitar solo over and over, only to have my fingers completely fall apart when trying it live.
In jiujitsu, we first drill techniques with a passive partner. But when it’s time to “roll” in live sparring, that passive partner becomes a fully resisting opponent, and suddenly that same move that I was consistently nailing becomes impossible to execute.
Image: Me training at Renzo Gracie's in Austin, TX 2024
You have to introduce progressively challenging real world “stress tests” to whatever you're practicing.
Here are some of my favorite ways, from simplest to more complex:
Tap your foot while you play - I explore this in my article “How To Develop Good Rhythm: From Rhythm Killers To Killer Rhythm.” If you can’t do this, your practice definitely isn’t ‘real’ enough.
Play for family/friends - They’ll be polite and supportive, but you’ll be surprised how nervous you still get. This stimulates a low-pressure performance condition.
Take lessons and play for your teacher - A good teacher will be supportive, but listen with a discerning, critical ear. This is one of the main benefits I provide my own students, and one of the main reasons I still take lessons myself.
Have a conversation while playing - This doesn’t have to be a podcast-level discussion about the nature of reality. Simply talk to your friend about what you had for lunch while keeping your fingers moving. This proves you can play while distracted, which is crucial for performing live where there will be no shortage of distractions.
Perform for a small crowd - Sometimes the only way to truly learn is through real-world experience. Failing onstage can teach you more in one night than months of practice. Use small stages to prepare for the big ones that count, or to simply supercharge the time you’re spending on your very noble goal of learning music.
Conclusion: The Martial Art of Music
Music and jiujitsu might seem worlds apart, but they share fundamental truths about mastery.
Perhaps the most important lesson jiujitsu taught me about music is this:
There's no substitute for mat time.
You can watch all the YouTube videos, read all the theory books, and collect all the fancy gear you want, but until you're actually rolling (or playing), you're not really learning.
It's like the difference between watching UFC and actually getting choked out by a 145-pound woman who's been training for five years.
One gives you the illusion of knowledge; the other gives you actual skill.
So whether you're working on a new song, trying to master a technique, or just trying to get better at your instrument, think like a jiujitsu practitioner:
Focus on fundamentals
Use resistance as information
Make consistent tiny improvements
Practice in ways that prepare you for the real thing
And if all else fails, try not to get submitted.
Image: Me training at Allstar Jiujitsu in Lombard, IL 2023
