Why It Matters: From Quitter to Creator — How tech is saving piano learners
ROLI CPO Tom Ford shares his journey with piano learning, and shows us how innovative technology changed his musical world
Almost everyone quits piano. Seriously. You might have quit, your cousin probably quit. And for decades, I thought I was no different. Not because I did not love music, but because learning felt like walking through mud: slow, heavy, and frustrating. Studies show that as many as 80% of students discontinue their lessons after three years. Fewer than one in twenty continue beyond high school.
Lots of people start learning an instrument full of excitement or because their parents think it is a good idea. Then, somewhere along the way, it all fizzles out. Maybe the sheet music never made sense, maybe progress was painfully slow, or maybe life just got in the way. Some people even reach an advanced level and then stop practicing. Their fingers feel rusty, the music they used to play feels distant, and the joy is gone. I know this feeling well. I have seen it in friends, family, and in myself.
Growing up without lessons
As a kid, I envied my classmates who were offered to take music lessons by their parents. I thought they must be so happy, having access to an instrument and a teacher. Of course, I quickly learned that what was a dream for me was a nightmare for some of them. They hated lessons and practice. I even naively offered my best friend Claus the chance to take piano lessons for him, because he hated them and I wanted nothing more than to play. I quickly realized that it does not work that way, but the desire to sit at a piano and make music stayed with me, even without lessons or guidance.
My earliest piano memories are of me sneaking into my great-aunt's house after school and banging on her out-of-tune piano. After being an audience of one for her rendition of “Für Elise,” I was finally granted access to her instrument. I loved her for her kindness and generosity and secretly hoped she was hard of hearing so she would not judge my clumsy attempts at navigating the black and white keys, figuring out chords, and cobbling together simple melodies. Over time, I could play pretty well by ear and make melodies that sounded okay, but sheet music remained a foreign language full of hieroglyphs. Music theory? I knew just enough to get into trouble.
Then one day, completely by accident, I found a cassette tape on the street. I was instantly hypnotized by the shockingly unusual sounds and listened to it on repeat. Only much later did I discover that I had stumbled upon a copy of Kraftwerk’s Computer World. I sat glued to the speakers, marveling at the electronic textures and wondering how this robot band from Düsseldorf had made such magic. That cassette opened a whole world of music I had never known existed. Even without lessons, I realized that music could be playful, experimental, and deeply personal. I saved up my pocket money to buy a CASIO SK-1, a tiny miracle of a sampling keyboard, which I would soon modify with technical tweaks to push its capabilities even further.
Becoming a creator
As I got older, I saved up for hardware synths, effects units, and groove boxes. I wanted to sound like my electronic music idols, experiment and eventually create my own style. At the time, software could not compete with the richness and flexibility of real hardware. So my small student dorm room saw a bunch of machines and tangled cables moving in with me over time. Each piece of gear felt like a passport into a wider universe of sound. I’d spend hours learning their quirks and limitations, falling in love with the imperfections of analog.
Then life carried me across continents, and DAWs and software synths finally caught up, sounding real enough that I could ditch most of my old gear. Over time, I let go of most hardware, keeping just my beloved Roland W-30 and Yamaha DX7-IID tucked away in my parents’ storage, and got down to the essentials: a laptop and headphones. With FruityLoops and Reason, I could craft fun sounds, and my entire studio fit into a single backpack.
My pocket studio felt minimalist, portable, endlessly capable. And for a while, that felt liberating. I could make music anywhere. But over time, something was missing. I missed the tactile joy, the physical dance with an instrument. Music, for me, isn’t just sound. It’s gestures and touch.
So recently I’ve been rebuilding. I still use powerful software, but now I’ve surrounded it with hardware synths, keyboards, and groove boxes — a hybrid setup. And in the process, I’ve rediscovered the playfulness that first pulled me into music. Twisting a filter knob, tapping out rhythms on pads, blending old machines with new plugins — it feels alive again.
Back to the keys: Adult Learner Edition
Despite the exhilaration I felt through the experimental nature of electronically produced music, for me, something was still missing: I wanted to truly learn the piano. Of course, I knew that you don’t need classical training to be a music creator. DAWs encourage experimentation and celebrate happy accidents. But I didn't want to just tinker, create sounds, and program beats; I wanted to actually sit down and play. That had always been the dream.
I found Lorenzo, an Italian teacher, and began online lessons from San Francisco. Later, I continued from Berlin, then London: hundreds of lessons, all remote. My younger self would have thought that impossible. It wasn’t easy. My hands were stiffer, my brain slower to adapt. Exercises took twice as long, and pieces I once imagined breezing through now felt impossibly hard. Many times, I wanted to quit. But Lorenzo was patient, and technology gave me access I’d never had before. For the first time, I had both structure and freedom.
Learning piano as an adult is nothing like my improvised childhood experiments. Progress is slower, sometimes frustrating, but also strangely satisfying in ways my younger self could never have appreciated. At my lowest point, I even called a close friend, Masato (a professional pianist in Tokyo) ready to vent about how impossibly hard piano felt. I expected sympathy, maybe a pep talk. Instead, he offered an insight that completely reshaped how I think about learning. But I’ll come back to that later.
Play comes first
When I found that Kraftwerk cassette on the street as a kid, it did more than inspire me. It made me want to create right away. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I was layering sounds, experimenting with rhythms, even modifying my toy synth to see how far I could push it. I wasn’t willing or able to invest years in classical training, and that turned out just right for me.
Modern learners are the same. They don’t just want to play notes; they want to make music they can share and celebrate from day one. TikTok and YouTube have made that possible, and it’s incredibly motivating.
I’ve always loved arcade games, RPGs, and puzzles. Hours would disappear without me noticing. When I returned to piano as an adult, I realized games and music share something powerful: both thrive on feedback, clear goals, and steady progression. Traditional piano rarely worked that way. You could practice a passage for half an hour, feel stuck, and only later realize you had improved. It’s discouraging when you crave proof of progress.
But when practice borrows from games, everything changes. Hitting the right note feels like scoring points. Cracking a rhythm feels like unlocking a level. You come back, not out of duty, but because it’s fun. The reward of play keeps you engaged while you quietly build real skill.
As a child, I had nothing more than my great aunt’s upright and a Casio. Today, the landscape is completely different. The first LUMI keyboard (now the ROLI Piano M) lit up the path for me, turning practice from guesswork into guidance. With ROLI Blocks, I could jam with synths like Equator, Cypher, and Strobe. The ROLI Learn app became my practice partner, filling in the gaps between lessons with feedback and motivation.
Now the AI-assisted ROLI Piano System is about to launch: a 49-key keyboard with full-size light-up keys, paired with Airwave, which sees my hands and fingers in real time and gives precise guidance as I play. It’s the instrument I wish I had all along. It makes practice playful, progress visible, and creativity natural. You get the fun and rewards of a game, but with the depth of real musicianship.
Practice turns into play. Learning turns into creating.
The insight that changed everything for me
And this brings me back to Masato, my pianist friend in Tokyo. When I was at one of my lowest points, frustrated and ready to give up, I called him. I expected comfort. What he told me instead shocked me.
To my biggest surprise, he told me he struggles too. I stared at him. How could he struggle? Did he just say that to make me feel better? After all, he belongs to the tiny group of people who “speak” music fluently. He makes the hardest pieces look effortless.
Then he shared a perspective that completely shifted how I think about learning piano: No matter your level, there is always a next challenge. Beginners wrestle with every note. Experts deliberately pick pieces that stretch them to the next level. It is like walking into a climbing gym. As a newbie, every wall feels impossible. As a pro, you pick the route that challenges you the most. Struggle is normal. Frustration is part of the process. And knowing that lifted a weight I did not even realize I was carrying.
And that is where technology changes everything. With guidance and feedback that shows progress, practice transforms. It doesn’t remove the challenge, it makes the journey smarter, more human, and more playful. Piano becomes a game you want to return to, every day.
“No matter your level, there is always a next challenge. Struggle is normal. Frustration is part of the process.“
A different ending
As a kid, I quit because I had no access, no feedback, no real support. As an adult, I nearly quit again because progress felt slow. Each time I returned, technology offered tools my younger self could never have imagined: remote teachers, light-guided keyboards, hybrid studios of software and hardware, and now AI-powered systems that watch and guide my hands as I play.
And maybe that’s the thread that ties it all together. Every time I thought I had to quit, too frustrated, too uprooted, too busy, technology opened a new door. From DAWs and emulated synths to online lessons, it gave me a way forward, both as a creator and as a learner. Technology made me a music maker and it shaped how I learn. It gave me access to lessons I could never have had, made practice playful, and brought back the dream of sitting at the piano and making music. Piano is no longer about struggling alone. It is about returning again and again, discovering what else is possible.
So yes, my setup today is a glorious mess: a blend of software and hardware, of old dreams and new possibilities. Piano practice is still humbling, often frustrating, but more rewarding than ever. And through it all, I’ve kept one dream alive—the dream I had as a kid: that one day, when I “grow up,” I’ll own a real acoustic piano. Because after everything technology has given me (access, inspiration, and tools beyond imagination) I still want the sound of wood and strings filling a room. That’s the perfect full circle: proof that technology didn’t replace the dream. It brought me close enough to finally make it real.
Until then, I have something even my childhood self could never have imagined. I can learn, create, and explore music with tools that make the journey human, inspiring, and joyful. Anyone can pick it up, no matter your age, background, or how many times you have given up. Start small, make mistakes, let smart tools guide you, and remember that sometimes the smallest, most unexpected discoveries, like the cassette tape I found as a kid, can change your life.
What's next?
In upcoming posts, I’ll debunk big myths about learning music and explore the future of music learning and creation.
Think You Can’t Learn Music? Science Says Otherwise will challenge the idea that great musicians are born, not made.
Will AI Be Your Next Piano Teacher? will show how AI and emerging tech are turning practice into play and putting creation in everyone’s hands.
If you thought learning piano was slow, frustrating, or only for the naturally gifted, these posts will change your perspective.
About Tom Ford
Dr. Tom Ford is Chief Product Officer at ROLI, where he leads product strategy and innovation at the intersection of music and technology. With a Ph.D. in Artificial Intelligence and over 20 years of global product leadership, Tom has launched groundbreaking platforms like ROLI Airwave that bring AI and spatial music to learners and creators. A lifelong music enthusiast and technologist, he is passionate about building tools that make music more intuitive, accessible, and inspiring.
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