Check out my YouTube Channel...
Dan Zed

Like many kids, I started swimming lessons at five, and by seven, I had become a competitive swimmer. From early on, I loved it—the meets, the trips to other cities, this was something I was really passionate about. By thirteen, my coach encouraged me to take it to the next level: morning sessions at 5:30 a.m., along with evening training. I gave it a try, but after three weeks, I burned out. Swimming had stopped being fun, and I realized I no longer wanted to pursue it seriously. Telling my parents I wanted to quit was freeing—and I think my mom was secretly relieved after all those rides to practice!

That same year, our family moved to an acreage near Winterburn, about half an hour from Edmonton. Being the new kid in a new school, I felt a bit isolated and lacked purpose. Something clicked inside me, and I approached my dad, asking if he could teach me guitar. My dad had taught himself at sixteen and was a rhythm guitarist and lead singer in a band called Skyline. While the band had folded after our move, he was thrilled to pass on his knowledge, and it gave us a new way to bond.

Under his guidance, I learned basic chords and soon moved on to plucking melodies on the high strings. He taught me classics—The Beatles, Bob Dylan, and even some more obscure groups like The Shadows. The first full song I could play was Ghost Riders in the Sky by Johnny Cash.

That summer, during our annual two-week Kelowna vacation, I discovered something life-changing. Family friends had also embraced music: their son Stuart was playing electric guitar, and his younger brother Oliver had taken up drums. I had only been playing a few weeks and felt useless—I couldn’t play an entire song yet and was still struggling with chords.

Then Stuart opened my eyes and ears to the electric guitar. You could control the volume to keep up with the drums, add effects, and explore a whole new sonic world. Hearing him engage his distortion and delay pedals blew my mind—the sounds practically jumped out of the amp. I was hooked.

Feeling bold, I asked to try the drums. To my surprise, I could hold a basic beat. We started jamming together, improvising, and making up music on the spot. My mom and Stuart’s mom came running downstairs to see what all the noise was about. I’m pretty sure I had the biggest grin on my face—I was on cloud nine! That’s when I knew: music was what I wanted to do with my life.

Stuart taught me power chords and how to move that shape around the fretboard to outline a song’s progression. He played Rock You Like a Hurricane by The Scorpions, which led me to apply those same ideas to Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, and Ozzy Osbourne. That summer was transformative. I asked for an electric guitar for my birthday and practiced on my dad’s hand-me-down acoustic until my fingers nearly bled. Eventually, I got my first electric—a Japanese ES-335 style guitar, which I still have.

I dove deep into practice, bought my first distortion pedal and flanger, and kept pushing myself. In grade nine, my friend Rob introduced me to finger-style by teaching me Stairway to Heaven during lunch periods. My musical world was opening up—it was pure joy.

A year later, we moved to Vancouver, BC, and I formed my first band with my high school friend/drummer Kevin. We started by jamming, then writing two original songs: The Slow One and The Fast One. John played bass, and Lance became our singer (and my very first formal student!). We were drawn to heavy metal and hard rock, calling ourselves D.D.T., later changing to Rated R.

Our first live performance was at a high school cabaret night. We performed three songs by Judas Priest, Ozzy, and Metallica. For the final show, the other guys had plans to go to an Anthrax concert, so I asked the teachers if I could perform a piece on classical guitar. They agreed, and I played Dee by Randy Rhoads. That first performance was a revelation—I realized everything I’d been doing, all the practice and dedication, was leading to moments like this. Performing, sharing music, connecting with people—that was my purpose.

I soon started taking guitar lessons in Maple Ridge, at a music store called Full Circle. My first formal guitar teacher's name was Bob Corbin. He taught me songs by Metallica, we started working on scales and I soon realized I wanted to study at the college level, so we slowly started working on theory and learning to read the notes on the guitar.

I started with swimming, I think, to learn discipline—the importance of consistent practice and determination. But music taught me something more: it’s not a competition. Every musician has their own voice, their own soul, their own reason for playing. We share, we play, we create. Recognition is wonderful, but the joy comes from the music itself—a sentiment my ex-girlfriend and fellow musician Connie Chaos put perfectly: music is an exhibition, not a competition.

From there, my path continued. I auditioned for Capilano College on classical guitar (Dee was one of my audition pieces) and enrolled in their Bachelor of Music program. I studied music history, ear training, theory, and classical guitar with the maestro Stephen Boswell, whose guidance and friendship I still cherish. I performed Mahler’s Eighth Symphony—the Symphony of a Thousand—with the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, an experience that changed my life.

After Capilano, I focused on performing, forming a band called Torment, teaching private students, and eventually returning to studies at Vancouver Community College as a composition major. I learned orchestration, voicing, and the subtle magic of blending instruments. Piano became a new love, expanding my musical vocabulary and inspiring new arrangements and compositions.

I explored renaissance and baroque music, transcribed works for guitar, discovering new dimensions of music with Debussy, Ravel, and Satie. I began arranging piano pieces for guitar, learning how to translate the intricacies of one instrument to another. Every step pushed me creatively, technically, and emotionally.

All of this—the lessons, the performances, the hours of practice, the bands, the collaborations—has led me to where I am today. Music isn’t just what I do; it’s who I am. It’s the thread connecting my life, from the joy of early discovery to the thrill of sharing sound with others.

And that’s why I keep playing, creating, and sharing music. Because every note, every chord, every melody tells a story—and mine is still unfolding.

Here is my Story of How I Fell in Love with the Wonderful World of Music...

I am currently working on a book which I am rearranging classical piano music for solo or duo classical guitar.
Some composers' works that I have rearranged are Debussy, Ravel and Satie... yes, they are for public domain.
I'm aiming for the book to be published in 2027 and will be for sale on Amazon... so stay tuned!

I had to share this old photograph of my dad, Michael Zbytovsky (left) and his friend Jiri when he was a teenager, still living in Czechoslovakia. This is dad's first live performance, age sixteen. He had been playing guitar for only three and a half months at this point.

In 2010, my father was recovering from triple bypass surgery, and I wanted to lift his spirits. I recorded a few of the songs he loved to play on guitar and had him sing along while I captured his vocals.
I brought those recordings to my friend Rob’s studio, Low-Key Recording in Mission, where we added drums, bass, and additional guitar to complete three songs. Rob did an excellent job mixing them.
Later on, I bought a computer and taught myself how to record and track my own parts. Over time, Dad and I continued recording many of the songs he played. I now have about ten songs on my computer that I’d love to have mixed professionally.