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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