the opposite of the "The Police formula" and attention to detail

One of the most common arranging techniques of The Police was the "double-time chorus" formula: the verses are in some sort of 2-feel, often with the "one drop" drum pattern, followed by a more straight-ahead chorus in 4 with a more typical "rock" drum beat ("Roxanne," "So Lonely," "Can't Stand Losing You," "Don't Stand So Close To Me," "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic," "Spirits In the Material World," etc.). It's an effective technique, propelling the song forward and often creating a "catchy" chorus. There's at least one song (considering my level of obsession with this band I should know for sure) that does the opposite.

This song hits the molasses when it reaches the chorus, the reverse of the typical Police formula. But one detail really sticks out, a detail that further solidifies the reputations of a band and drummer that didn't really need solidifying. Listen to the cross stick on beat 3 starting at 0:22, 1:04, and 1:53. Stylistically appropriate, yes, BUT. They also set up the half-time feel of the chorus! Those beats 3 translate into beats 2 and 4 in half-time, the "backbeat."

I very recently discovered this detail while driving early in the morning. It's a small thing, and I wasn't looking for more reasons to love The Police, but WOW what a nice touch that is.

no tonic continued...

This song has no I chord, unless you hear the first chord as a local i chord instead of as a sus-y ii chord.

It's a ii chord.

the oopsie flat 7 bass line mistake

I've noticed this phenomenon for years, but it may have been my friend Chris Weisman that pointed it out, or made me more aware of it. Many many (many) bass lines consist of root, fifth, and the "flat" (depending on the key) seventh scale degree. This sound is such a part of rock/jazz/pop music that it sometimes makes its way into places it doesn't belong. Whether these players "hear" these lines or if they are a result of fingers falling onto the bass in comfortable patterns is hard to say. But here are a few stinkers. It would be cool if these were interesting super-impositions, deliberate or not, but no, not this time. These are wrong notes to my ears, and I really have a hard time listening to them.

U2: classic wrong bass

Man, does this song have an identity crisis. Is it straight-up majory? Is it blues-ish? It also features one of Chris's big pet peeves: the bluesy woozy strings over the I-IV dominant progression. To Adam Clayton's credit, his bass line lines up with the questionable arrangement (but the first bass entrance has some rough notes). But there's an AMAZING moment at 4:05: The Edge is bluesing out up high, and Adam plays the major-sounding line (half-steps) instead of the whole-step line. Fantastically bad. Poor guy is locked into "line B" when he should switch to "line A." Or was the guitar solo overdubbed? That's a bad idea, too.

Some may defend this, but I'm not buying it. This song is a mess. Is this tonality/mode/inflection soup part of U2's sound? Certainly. It's true of many bands. But it doesn't always work. Just listen to The Edge riffin' over the implied major 7 IV chord at 4:05 and tell me otherwise. And besides--the blues inflection has nothing to do with the lyrics. Weird choices.


Cake: the first time I heard this I was shocked at how amateurish the bass playing is. They are generally way more slick than this. The vocals get progressively more obnoxious, too--the hesitation bit.

I have a great idea--ignore the harmony completely and pretend everything is a vague, dominant-7th sound. Root, octave, flat 7, fifth over and over--EVEN WHEN THE RELATIVE MAJOR IS TONICIZED. Mercy, what a bad, clunky, unrefined sound.


Duran Duran: John Taylor does better, but it's the same formula as the above.

And weren't those weed smoking sound effects played out by 1982 (anyone compiled that list yet)? Anyway. Root, octave, flat 7 formula again. Who on earth thought the tonic I chord was a dominant chord in this tune (the melody is major/major pentatonic during the verses)? And constantly leaving the 7th unresolved on V7 is grating. At least he never plays the flat 7 on the IV chord--he plays the root 2 or more times. So...I can deal with the busy-ness of the line--it's appropriate to the style. But the line is clunky. The entire Rio album is full of bass gems and bass stinkers.


So what is my beef? Bass players that don't know what they're doing? Don't listen? That suck? Perhaps I'll expand my message--music is not a series of mutually exclusive moments. Say, chord to chord to chord. There's always a context of some sort. And the playing I've discussed ignores that context in favor of fingering patterns, or even rote lines in the U2 example. And this is especially dangerous when the music relies on combined or shifting inflections. If that context isn't understood, or if the changes aren't heard, the results can be unfortunate.

no tonic?

I heard the song "Jane Says" in the coffee shop this morning, and I remembered thinking about it a few years ago. The song seems to be nothing but IV and V chords, and you never hear a tonic. I thought I would write a post about it. But someone already did a better job than I could have, calling this phenomenon an "absent tonic":

Fragile, Emergent, and Absent Tonics in Pop and Rock Songs/Mark Spicer

Very nice, and great examples. Though I would go further. I would suggest that yes, the song is absolutely in D major, and that the vocals are the tonic I chord. A sort of linear manifestation of the tonic that hangs over the G-A vamp. The song is in D. Trust your ears. Just because the guitar never plays "I" doesn't make it less "in D." I'd even venture to say that there are plenty of authentic cadences in the vocal line alone. Trust your ears. The guitars aren't even harmonic, really. They're a chugging ostinato. Listening this way, the chord progression isn't IV-V over and over. It's a I drone.

All of these interesting conversations aside, I still think the song is pretty awful. The author of the above states "It is refreshing and interesting to our ears, I think, to have a song that constantly plays with our sense of resolution by constantly teasing us with the possibility of an authentic cadence but never actually giving it to us. It is what makes us want to listen to it over and over again."

I'll set the rhetorical weakness of "I think" aside for now.

Possibility of an authentic cadence? There's a whole bunch of them in the vocal line (cadences don't need chords). And it's the childish, sing-songy A-F# minor third that Perry Farrell sings over and over again that ensures that I will NOT listen over and over again. Rather, I find it hard to listen to the entire song. Oh, and those steel drums are profoundly stupid.

I remember when...

What's worse?

1) A band/musician that makes original music that is stylistically derivative and relies heavily on some sort of nostalgia from the intended audience.

or

2) The same, EXCEPT neither the band nor the intended audience lived through the time that one would have said nostalgia for, like the "swing" (read: "ska" bands that missed the "ska" movement) bands of the early-mid nineties.

I don't want to hate this way. It's fine, usually. It can be really good at times. And this "retro-" movement is no movement. It's been around forever. It's a convenient trick; it pushes certain buttons for the listener. And some folks do it well, and I'm not immune to the charm.

But at the same time, it's so fucking lazy. And it's genre blind. Pop, rock, jazz, and contemporary composers perhaps worst of all. Can't we do better than parrot styles and sounds that were new 10, 15, 20, 70, 200 years ago? There must be new sounds, or at the very least new ways of combining ideas across genres and media. I think so, anyway.

But if you were born in 1990 and are trying to channel 60's garage bands, I just...try harder, dude. Because that charm will last about one 45 minute set. Then I'm settling up and leaving the bar.

And if you're a fan of this sort of faux-nostalgia movement? This time warp dress-up game? I don't know what to say. It's true that I'm a pretty detached and cold listener (in terms of being swayed by forces outside of the sounds themselves), and I'm certainly in the minority. But when musicians, bands, and composers think they can pull one over on their audience by playing like 'Trane or sounding like early Pink Floyd or writing big simplistic "Romantic" orchestral music...well...it usually works.

But not on me.

The Unbehind

The Unbehind is something my Dad used to say. I'm not really sure what it means; I think he used it to mean "out back" or "backyard," more or less. But recently, I've found it to have a lovely sinister quality, almost a David Lynch kind of duality and imprecision. If it's UN-behind, is it right in front of our eyes? Or is it beyond behind, like the Black Lodge of Twin Peaks lore? Or even more than behind, like the "undead"? Or is this word a verb? To unbehind: to pull back the curtains, or to make plain, or to dispel superstition? I'm not sure. I love all of these definitions.

I hope to talk about music and obscure points of music theory on this blog--maybe that's my connection. I believe that while some elements of what makes good/great/effective music are hard to pin down, a high percentage is right in front of our eyes/ears. Music is NOT magic. Music is more craft and hard work than many care to admit. Inspiration is overrated. Simply knowing the vocabulary and grammar of music is lost in the unbehind for many.

So why does V-I work the way it does? Is it enough to say "It just does"? That's boring, and the reasons for that progression coming about are so interesting! Which came first, the lines or the harmony? That's an easy one. And perhaps once we unbehind these mysteries we can move forward, build, or just create from a richer, more informed place. That's what I want to do.

Or maybe unbehind refers to my father's totally flat ass. I have that, too.