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Los Crazies

Many a composers have walked these halls of hallucinations, guided by voices, consumed by musical madness, opened the doors of delusion, where everything disappears to man as it ain’t (still infinite), and beheard the sick psychedelic song at the center of the universe looping back in their mind’s ear, screaming like tinnitus and beating like bruits, humming like the homonculus in your head, or the brain-burrowing earworm who lays her catchy egg-songs and sinks her hooks into you, be it angelic air or demonic dirge, it eventually pollutes the conscious stream, disenchants the loom, and lest it consume them entirely, and derail their train of thought, they set about lickety-quick in little black dots and white lines to denote the crazy chords and insane intervals that call out from beyond the yellow wallpaper, swarming the scores like silent spiders who peep back through the dark glassy eyes of god.

The most famous case of musical madness is found in Romantic composer Robert Schumann. He wrote in his diary about being constantly assaulted by a high A5. It’s possible his head tone was actually a chronic tinnitus, though it may have been another type of auditory hallucination related to his mental illness. Here’s a simulation of the note, that among other hauntings, drove Schumann mad.


Annoying aye? Schumann was also greeted by singing telegrams from the spirit realm. The ghosts of Mendelssohn and Schubert dictated a melody to him one crazy night, forgetting that he himself had composed it earlier, and wrote it into the Violin Concerto [1], which was left unplayed for a hundred years, until during a séance held by the grand-nieces of the violinist it was written for, the ghost of Robert Schumann appeared and ordered the work to be recovered from the Prussian State Library, and abiding world copyright laws, be performed, for the first time ever, in Germany.

Schumann attempted suicide by drowning himself in the Rhine, and when rescued jumped from the boat to drown himself again. He died soon after in an asylum.

Composers have to cool out sometimes, just to fend off the crazies. They gotta take a bath, or go play a game of Go. Maybe even make some love.

Whose the loneliest artist after all? The musician holds her instrument tight like a lover, and the painter falls for her own portrait. Writers have their wee fictional characters, sitting atop their shoulders at all times. But the composer is always alone, holed up inside their heads, moving melodies about, shifting rhythms around, structuring scraps of songs for years on end, singing to themselves like madmen and women.

Personal Aside:
These three black stemmed noteheads will make you mad. They whisper dark secrets about you. They are most certainly allying themselves with neighboring noteheads of other measures, and will eventually turn the whole score [2] against you. Their synesthesia makes you sick. Their sounding upon MIDI strings is like a cat organ, plucking catgut, vibrating in sympathy with the devil. Drag over if you dare!


And you ain’t the only one who thinks so. The flatted fifth interval between the E and Bb are known as a tritone, or ‘Diabolus in Musica’ (the Devil in Music). Schumann got off lucky, with his convenient Concert A tuned hallucination.

Yet you employ the unholy triad at every turn, in Japanese Insen, and Half-Whole keys. You flip two birds at their evil alliance, and play them forte, and often. You even listen to their hit songs like King Crimson’s “One More Red Nightmare” [3]. Because, just because…

Because, like the church composers always complain, “Why should the Devil have all the best tunes?”

crazy drummer boy

Shine on crazy diamonds!

Notes:
[1] Violin Concerto, Schumann, Robert.
[2] “Bring Me To Supper”, Anima MIDI. (Crazies happen at 0:59.)
[3] “One More Red Nightmare”, King Crimson. (God-awesome.)

All Hail the Holy Half Whole


Chucky and Petrushka: Minions of the Octatonic


There is one scale that is so deliciously evil, it hasn’t been heard for an hundred years. It goes by many names ― Octatonic (for its eight tones), Symmetric (for its perfect triadic symmetry), Diminished (for its Twin Diminished Keys), and Synthetic (for its artificial origins). This scale is so evil, it makes babies cry in the womb. Rather than soothe, it further enrages the savage beast. The harmonies of hell are thus attuned, and it is the tonality most favored by possessed dolls. The ancients dubbed it “the Devil’s Pearls”, and fearing it, they banished it from Pop Music forever. To you and I, it is simply “Half Whole”.









Half-Whole
Named after its intervals, the Half-Whole Scale jumps up alternating half and whole tones, splitting the Octave into 4 equal parts. This division creates 4 symmetrical Tonics (C Eb F# A), stabilized with Perfect Fifths (G Bb Db E), that can be harmonized as either Major or Minor, and are surrounded by Diminished chords.

Octave = 12
Half = 1, Whole = 2
Half + Whole = 3
12 / 3 = 4 Tonics
Major chords = 4
Minor chords = 4
Diminished Chords = 8


Major and Minor
Major and Minor Chords represent the continuum of pop music, evoking the happy and sad with their Major and Minor Thirds, respectively. But look out, because Half-Whole has got Major and Minors everywhere, incestuously sitting in the same spot, stuck on the same degree.

Too much Major and Minor renders the Half-Whole Scale rather silly and tiresome. Taken out of their usual tonalities, these Major and Minor Chords come off as ambiguous and affectively flat. Dissonances and consonances run together in one sinister stream ― a disenchanted loom that snuffs consciousness into dissciousness.


Diminished Chords
Somewhere in between Major and Minor, or perhaps ever below them, is the Diminished Chord, composed entirely of Minor Thirds. The Half-Whole Octatonic Scale has Eight Diminished Chords, one on every degree. How awful!


Don’t they sound just like Possessed Sugar Plums?




Minor Thirds consist of 3 Half Steps (a whole and a half) and are known as the Sad Tone, but in this context it is perhaps best to call them the Mocking Tone. Children use Minor Thirds to mock each other in “Nana Nana Poo Poo” and adults sing “Ass-Hole” at sporting events in Minor Third intervals. A scale made of Minor Thirds is called a “Diminished Scale” and forms the basic harmonic division of the Half-Whole Scale. Behold the mocking potential of the Twin Diminisheds!

Tritones
Add two Minor Third intervals together and you get what is known as the Tritone, or “Devil’s Tone” (6 Half Steps). The Tritone is an oft-used musical dissonance, heard frequently in Metal, and anytime musicians need to call upon the Dark Forces [1]. Once again, the Half-Whole Scale has got way too many of ‘em.

As per half-whole symmetry, there are numerous Major and Minor Tritone possibilities. Below is the Classic Evil Rock Chord Progression ― two Major Chords a tritone apart.

Stack these chords on top of each other and you get the “Petrushka Chord” used by Igor Stravinsky to accompany the murderous puppet in his ballet Petrushka. [2]







The 7 Sacred Modes
The Half-Whole Scale, in its bloated Octatonality, encompasses the Seven Modes in incomplete bastardized forms. Trapped inside an Half-Whole prison, they scream out to be heard, but they are deformed and barley recognize their own voice. They have become monster modes.




Each of the modal flavors is hinted at ― Ionian firmness, Dorian coolness, Phyrgian darkness, Lydian silliness, Mixolydian funkiness, Aeolian sadness, and Locrian mysticism.

In Pop Music
As a musical device, the reverse scale ― the Whole-Half Scale ― is found in many modern songs. One such example is found in the opening guitar lick of the Radiohead song Just.





This song showcases the sparing use of the Half-Whole Scale as described by the old masters, who thought it trite and tacky to make a whole song based on it. Few bands are stupid enough to dare to try to frame that fearful symmetry.

Shameless Epilogue Plug:
The Los Doggies’ song “Hey Kids” features heavy use of Half-Whole trickery to evoke the psychedelic sickiness of American childhood.

Notes:
[1] The Dark Book, Sacrifix.
[2] Petrushka, Igor Stravisnky.

Oh! Oh! Canada! Canada!

This little bird has a big song. He double-tracks the melody like John Lennon in his syrinx. It’s so loud, you can easily pick him out of your local biophony―other oscine song, insectival drone, and mammalian utterances―high up in the Seventh Octave, comfortable in his perch above Middle C. Ornithologists have even set nationalistic lyrics to his migrant song. Click on the score to play. Drag over the guitar tab to hear the approximate key in Equal Temperament.




White-throated Swallow Down One Octave

The White-throated Swallow roughly sings a Perfect Fourth (E), down a semitone to a Major (D#) Third, and down a major third to the Root (B). The classic acoustic chord B Major (add 11) will encompass all of these tones. In the slowed down version, you can clearly hear that the second note is sharp and doesn’t quite go down to the D# proper. Thus, the Sparrow’s Major Third is a lot larger than our modern interval, and more akin to the ancient spacious Pythagorean Third. The feel of the song is swung, with the one presumably falling on the “Sweet” followed by triplets of “Canadas”.

A second song has yet to be given lyrics. Just like in “Oh Sweet Canada”, the tonality has a strong Major Third interval, except in the song below there is a Minor outro.




Firm. Happy. Awe. Happy. Sad. In that order. Doh. Me. Fa, Fa. Me, My, My, My. The Major/Minorness of this bird fits nicely within our urban soundscape. Major Thirds are found in bell song, car horns, door bells, telephones, and oh yeah, pop music. Major and Minor were locked away inside Music since the beginning of Time and Tone. Throughout the ages, Man and Bird helped each other to unravel the Secrets of the Harmonic Series.

The White-throated Sparrow’s wordless tune is a lot like the chicken’s cock-a-doodle-doo melody. They would make great incidental harmonies together.

Epilogue:
Apparently, birds have a Song Control System (SCS) hidden somewhere in the brain cells of their Consciousness (CNSC). Endless experiments may confirm the existence of a Musical Instrument Digital Interface (MIDI) and quite possibly the hotly pursued Selfy Self (SELF2).

Here’s a POV beakshot of a sparrow in full song.


ಠvಠ ♫

King of Off-Beat Samba Limbs

Occasionally, this blog is relevant―like really really relevant. Topical too. Like when a new Radiohead drops, and the hot new beats widget is up within the week!

Track 2 off King of Limbs is a syncopated little Mixolydian tune called “Morning Mr Magpie”. Here is a little loop of the first couple measures to give you the basic idea. (I trust the Head won’t begrudge these Doggies, as the entire album is up on youtube.)

“Morning Mr Magpie” Beat Loop

So here’s the breakdown of that fucked up farce of a 4/4 beat. Though there is really no bass drum in the song, a muted guitar taps the samba feel and the tonic throughout (as represented by the “kick” below). The hi-hats bounce along the off-beats (also called up-beats, or feminine beats) and often synch up with the kick drums. The snare drums strike alone on the 3′s and 4′s, as snare drums are wont to do in rock ‘n’ roll (isn’t it still?). The 3 and 4 are the classic “pah” of a boom-pah beat, or the “cats” in “boots & cats”. Believe it or not, there’s actually only one quaver rest (a 1/16 note of silence) in the whole beat, right in between the first two hi-hats.

Throw them all together and you get this crazy compin’ off-beat samba groove. Click on the score to turn on/off.

Try it on your laps at home if you dare, using the membranophones of your very own body.

Who needs songs when you got beats this good?

Blue Jays

The blue jays are back in town, at least here in my feathery nape of this hairy neck of the snowy woods. These birds are triple forte all the way, and down-right rocking too. Their eponymous call is a screamo-inflected “jaay-jaay” in Concert A.

They often bend down a whole tone to a G, as if being swept up in the Doppler winds. The scale of A Mixolydian (A B C# D E F# G), with its Dominant 7th (G), will work nicely with the blue jays calls. Follow this link, to hear how this bird might be played on guitar.

With his harsh hawk cries, guitar-licking wheedlelee’s, and tintinnabulating toolool toolool’s, the blue jay is a perfect candidate for a rocking tribute. To hear such a cover, head over to the Boird Band bandcamp site

Blue jays live by blue jay ways. They are often featured on Animal Television’s “Most Bad-Ass Bird” or what have you. They are known to chase cars like dogs, and steal kibble from dogs. While other birds are content to sing and whistle, blue jays shoot their beaks off all day.

They also appear in the first sentence of Vineland by Tommy Pynch in this particularly relevant passage, as some kind of metaphor or something.


Rock on bird-brains.

Distress Signal Melody

When you hear a high G, does it Stress Out your Shit?

The international distress signal melody is a monotonal song in 7/8 time, written in the key of Morse Code, consisting of three quavers, followed by three crotchets, and another three quavers. Normally, the telegrapher is supposed to rest the equivalent note duration in between dits and dahs, but in an especially distressful signal, the beat is kept pulsing at the odd time of seven.

At a radio frequency of 500 kHz, the equivalent tone would be an high G7 (50175.4 Hz), an annoyingly high-pitched tone, and so is transposed down two octaves to a G5 in the widget above.

Here is a 45-second rock cover of “The SOS Song”. It is partly in free time to mimic the distress of a tattooing telegrapher, and features a 7/8 section as rescue efforts get mobilized. The choruses are rendered sailor-style, if not piratically derivative.

Morse code, like written music, is for the most part a dead language. While the commercial use of Morse code is just about obsolete, it is still a very powerful musical language that encodes simple rhythmic patterns into letters (and vice versa), and can be refashioned for much more esoteric forms of communication than relaying the massive bustling missives of business.

Tabla players, African Dummers, and other drumming cultures, speak in Percussionese dialects. However, rock drummers haven’t really much of a rhythmic vocabulary for their beats. We can refer to the style of the beats themselves―up-beat, down-beat, and possibly the African beat that they are based upon―the time signatures and tempos, and that vague quantifier of “feel”. We can speak in specifics―Dave Grohl flams and John Bonham triplets. But what if you were to describe a certain drum fill to someone? You’d be forced to dispense with all symbols, and just sing what it was you meant to say.

No longer friends. Now you can just say “Gimmie the D” in drumorse code.

Epilogue:

The Spring Peepers sing the same tone as the distress signal melody. Could they have provided the inspiration for SOS, in the way that the rhythms of the railways have been said to inspire Jazz beats?

The formula:

Frogs (G) + Railroads (Jazz) = Morse Code

Dah, Dah, Dah, Dit. Here’s some old timey porn.

Beep, Beep

Traffic is the biggest brass band on the streets. In between swelling swooshes of many mediums, vehicles of every key sing onomatopoeic songs―car horn honks, backup truck beeps, klaxon awoogas, train choo’s, and bicycle bell brrngs―all day and all night and all afternoon, fading in and fading out, with timbres thrown back to the Jazz Era, when everything was a-beepin’ and a-boppin’ with syncopated stop-sign rests, and Doppler shift decays like the slide of a trombone on the very last ictus, into the howling road rhythms ahead.

The classic horn of popular automobiles (what you would call a honk as opposed to a beep) is tuned between a Major and Minor Third Interval. The oft-played double beat is like that of a Morse Code “A” (dit, dah (· —)), and was probably copied from railroad engineer beats. It can be notated as below: quaver, crotchet rest, crotchet, quaver rest, crotchet rest, assuming we’re in 4/4 time.

Minor Third = 300 cents
Car Horn Third = 362 cents
Major Third = 400 cents

It is not quite the happy Major Third , nor is it the sad Minor Third, but rather somewhere in between, a unique Car Horn Third, that evokes the spectrum of triadic emotions. At around 360 cents, almost halfway between Major and Minor, the Car Horn Third is similar to an Hendrix Chord which features both Thirds.

The car horn harmony was intentionally tuned like other Major Thirds in our American soundscape―the door bell, shop ding, and telephone dial tone―for its likeness to the third measure of the bell song Westminster Quarters. Ding, dong. The Major Third is found early in the Harmonic Series, making it a consonant interval, perfect for soothing the savage motorist.

Next we have the backup beep. Unlike the electric horn timbres of cars, trucks, buses, and ships, the backup beep is a pure sine wave, a series of F#6′s in an even crotcheted tempo.

If the Electric Tonic of America is a flatted B, then the F# reversal tone of trucks and buses forms a Perfect fifth interval―the Dominant. There are many different car horns, but the popular one above forms a Major 7th Interval with the Grid. Thus, the most popular chord of the streets is a B Major 7th. Everything is attuned according to the buzzing of the bees.

I like Traffic.

traffic