The power of four:
Every beat is four sixteenth notes long.
Every bar is four beats long.
Every phrase is four bars long.
Every section is four phrases long.
All that symmetry gets oppressive, so feel free
to break it. Gently.
Pop boilerplate:
Every beat is four sixteenth notes long.
Every bar is four beats long.
Every phrase is eight bars long.
Every section is four phrases long.
Waltz time:
Every beat is four sixteenth notes long.
Every bar is three beats long.
Every phrase is four bars long.
Every section is four phrases long.
Twelve-bar blues:
Every beat is four sixteenth notes long.
Every bar is four beats long.
Every phrase is four bars long.
Every section is three phrases long.
Rhythm is the horizontal axis. Harmony is the vertical
axis. The first note establishes a root; the first chord establishes
tonality. After that, all new chords are symmetry breaking
operations. You're free to do as much symmetry breaking as
you want, but be conscious of its effect on the listener.
Each time you break symmetry, it adds a new dimension of complexity.
There's only so much complexity people can take.
Intricate chord progressions are, like, so five
minutes ago. Pick a harmonic
mood, ideally by accident or by ear, and stick to it for
the duration of the song. Maybe go up to the fourth on the
bridge like James Brown.
You don't need to break symmetry totally. You can
also bend it. Horizontal bending is swing. Vertical bending
is microtones, blue notes, wailing.
The coolest bassline is no bassline. The second
coolest is to play the root once at the beginning of each
phrase. Maybe play it an octave up in the last beat of each
phrase. Maybe play the seventh too. At most.
Want to make the song longer? Don't add new sections.
Add more repetition. There's no such thing as too much repetition.
Fela Kuti and Miles Davis rode one-chord grooves for half
an hour or more. Study them closely.
Your lyrics don't need to rhyme or make sense,
but they do need to be rhythmically patterned. Consider each
syllable to be a percussion event. Try writing your vocal
melodies with nonsense syllables first and then swap in something
meaningful later, like the Beatles. Paul McCartney's original
lyrics for Yesterday began, "Scrambled eggs, running
up and down inside my legs." George Harrison's Something
originally began, "Something in the way she moves attracts
me like a pomegranate."
The voice is everyone's best and most natural instrument.
Try composing your instrumental parts by singing nonsense
syllables, like Duke Ellington and Charles Mingus. Singing
forces you to breathe, which is good, because music needs
silence.
Faster is not the same as more exciting. More complicated
is not the same as more interesting. Often the opposite is
true.
There is no originality. There's only remixing.
All music is comprised of cliches. Own your cliches, believe
in them, continually reexamine them.
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