How Does It Feel?

Today’s post is inspired by a sound-bite from Dave Douglas: when practising, your swing feel should “make the metronome feel good”.

I’ve tried various interpretations of this since I heard it in the Banff Centre in 2012.
(And I balance it against the opposing perspective from Matt Brewer: “All the metronome stuff has almost nothing to do with grooving”.)

One way to make the metronome feel good would be playing very precisely along with it. But there’s also the whole world of playing ahead of and behind the beat. That’s an area which can seem quite mysterious.

I wrote before how laying back behind the beat could be an audio encoding of rolling, elastic styles of body movement. A laid-back note symbolises a movement which, though you start its muscle impulse on the beat, takes a moment to propagate through the body and reach the point of impact. Or, for a more familiar example, imagine any kind of rocking or swaying dance. Different parts of your body will reach the furthest extent of a (forward, sideways or backwards) movement at slightly different times – but still feel like part of one movement.

Steve Coleman wrote about how in the Thad Jones/Mel Lewis big band, the entire band played behind the beat. (Meaning that, until he learned their time feel, Coleman repeatedly came in too early from count-ins.) Even though nobody plays it, Coleman suggests the earlier beat placement (i.e. the count-in) is the actual pulse while the played placement is “behind”.

Putting these ideas into words doesn’t of course mean that we can perform them. But thinking through all this suggested a framework: view all different beat placements as different degrees of laying back from a reference pulse.

Now we come to today’s exercise. Normally when practising with the metronome, it represents the “correct” pulse. But if I tapped my foot slightly ahead of the metronome, the tap would be the reference pulse and the metronome would be laid-back.

In this video I tried to maintain a clear flam between the metronome and my foot – this puts the snare quite exaggeratedly behind the beat. Note the “trashy” sound this creates (not entirely due to the tinny sample used). On the bass I try hit the reference downbeat along with my foot but go for the extreme laying back during the rest of the bar. Other options would be playing the whole bassline behind or alternatively playing the entire bassline with my reference foot tap while keeping the snares behind.

A quick word about what’s going on in my head… I’m conscious of the foot tap as an independence thing. I imagine a wave motion (rolling up along my back, maybe) to connect with the laid-back snare. (To me, it’s crucial that the snare doesn’t feel like a separate note to the foot tap, but more an elongated part of it.) Finally there’s a sensation, similar to keeping your balance, of maintaining the tempo.

This is a brand new exercise for me and has a ways to go. Once I have it consistent, I’d like to try all the usual practising ideas: counting aloud (with my foot taps), putting gaps in the metronome pattern to practice keeping tempo, adding fills to the bassline. I’d like to get rid of the tension that you can see in my fretting finger movements.

One criticism of this exercise occurs to me. What if, in trying to create that flam sound, I’m training my foot tap to creep ahead on beats 2 and 4? I think this has been happening a little, but I also think I can avoid it by concentrating on a relaxed, consistent physicality for the foot taps.

For comparison, here I am playing the same bassline without (intentionally!) tapping ahead of the snares. I do four rounds in straight 16ths and four in heavily swung 16ths. I think I prefer the swung 16ths of all three variations.

I heard Indonesian-Dutch drummer Chander Sardjoe say at a workshop, years ago, something along the lines of “a short cue can contain lots of information, more than you could verbalise”. He also said that the two essential rhythmic aspects of such a cue, or of any music, for him were the pulse and the “quality of the pulse”.

If microtiming devices like laying back are an encoding of styles of movement, perhaps that is how a short stretch of music can have a “quality of its pulse” that conveys so much information non-verbally.

Well, it’s a long road to achieve the rhythmic ability of a Chander Sardjoe who can perform feats like an 11 against 12 polyrhythm. But I’m glad to have, for the moment, a paradigm for practising microtiming: tapping what I consider to be the actual pulse (and getting that consistent), then working all divergences around that.

I’ll let you know how I get on. Any and all thoughts on grooving, laying back, etc. are very welcome in the comments!

Are Videogames The New Jazz?

Why would I ever compare playing jazz to playing videogames? Apart from the obvious answer that I’m a big fan of both.

Well, they both depend on what gamers call “twitch”: instinctive use of patterns kept in muscle memory, and triggered subconsciously.

To achieve this, musicians and competitive gamers practise intricate finger and hand movements, chained together and timed precisely. (E.g. a fighting game might give only 1/60th of a second in which to counter an opponent’s attack).

Aggressive competition defines much online gaming and was also a celebrated aspect of early jazz and bebop. Speed, rhythmic intelligence and imaginative reharmonisations were prized in those scenes, demonstrated at jam sessions, battles and cutting contests.

Speed, timing and rule-breaking shortcuts are the hallmarks of video game speedrunning, where enthusiasts develop techniques and exploit glitches to achieve impossible trajectories and velocities…

I’m gonna get a little more abstract now. Hold onto your hats. Both video games and music are virtual worlds. They transport us to somewhere imaginary. They also change instantly in response to the performer’s decisions. (Bandmates providing the reaction in the one case, the computer and/or other players providing it in the other.)

And, music and games both happen in virtual space. The perception of space in music is complex, but here are some known aspects:

  • High notes are heard as being above low notes and never the other way around (although some cultures use a different binary, e.g. thin-thick). More here.
  • Our hearing automatically interprets stereo differences, echoes and reverberations to give us an impression of our surroundings. In music these effects are called “spatialisation”. They have always been an area of cutting-edge technology, because their virtual spaces seems so futuristic. Psychedelic music has always relied on spatialisation!
  • Most importantly, “music is the sound of human movement”. We interpret rhythm by imagining, using our kinesthetic sense, the body movements that could produce it.
  • Loosely speaking, musicians and informed listeners tend to imagine music as made of shapes (phrases, sections) and to imagine points in a cycle as locations. So, a jazz musician might ask another, “What are you playing on (or over) bar 5 of the form?”
  • These spaces must be learned off for high level performance. Set sequences of moves (i.e. licks in bebop, or a chain of jumps in a game) are used to navigate the space.

In general, I think the African-American tradition of improvisational music has game-like qualities anyway: misdirection, illusion, masking, changing context. Steve Coleman turned me on to this stuff. Further parallels can be drawn with sports, martial arts, and forms of ritual speech like telling tall tales.

So, music/games is obviously a fun analogy to ponder. But, beyond that, it suggested to me some interesting crossover ideas.

“Let’s Play” videos, of gamers commentating their own playthroughs, have become massively popular in the last few years. Could improvised music work with a commentary?

Actually, it traditionally does: non-verbal exclamations of approval, musical imitations, and jokes (“knock knock” at 0:50). Or in classic hip hop lyrics that turn attention to the present moment, “You’re in awe when I’m gripping my mic cord”, “Hey you sayin’ what the hell is this shit/Reaching for the cover, turning up your deck”.  I wonder could a contemporary artist build off these traditions and consciously add forms of commentary to improvised performance?

Visuals help a lot to make games accessible. The technology is available to visualise the harmonic choices made by improvisors – most simply, how about assigning a different colour to each note?

The practices of “modders” who repurpose commercial game content seem to mesh well with how jazzers used showtunes or classical music etudes for their own creative ends. Here, for example, is a level released in 2014 (for free) that uses content from a 1996 game in ways the original creators could not have imagined.

by Simon O’Callaghan

The open-source movement, meanwhile, reminds me of the great common pool of licks and ideas that jazz musicians take from and give to.

With my last band, Glitchpuke, I consciously copied indie game “development logs”by including analysis of my own mistakes in the band blog.

And these days, I’m feeling inspired by game level designers – particularly, their cycle of repeatedly exploring and then refining a space. I want to have a band that does that.

Can games learn from jazz? One thing I’m anticipating with interest is the appearance of black-coded movement/performance styles in virtual reality. As a point of comparison, think how twerking rapidly entered the cultural mainstream from both corporate music videos and home-made ones on Youtube – probably generating a lot of money for some people.

Okay, I’m gonna start rolling it up now, but first I’ll look at some instructive differences between jazz and videogames culture.

Games culture started in by far the more privileged milieu: prestigious US universities that turned Cold War funding into technologies like programming languages, the personal computer and the internet. As Jeru The Damaja put it, “Chips that powered nuclear bombs power my SEGA.” The people involved were predominantly white and guaranteed of social acceptance in the middle classes.

PDP Team

By contrast, jazz originated in African-American urban communities which experienced much racism and poverty, crime and corruption.

Then again, today, all kinds of people are represented in improvised music and in gaming. A book could be written about the changing demographics of each. Jazz has become broadly academicised, with its mass appeal claimed by rock, hip hop, dance etc. Gaming has gone from embodying both tech culture privilege and geeky outsiderhood, to hosting vocal feminist, transgender and non-Western communities. All these changes have provoked gatekeeping reactions of many kinds.

To wrap up, and to reassure any musician friends reading, I want to point out areas where computer gaming can’t compete with music performance.

  • Nuanced expression is one. Although performance capture technology and detail of simulation are always advancing, the complex, multi-layered, intimate connection of a live instrumental performance won’t be digitised for years to come.
  • Gaming, as we currently know it, is not a fully-fledged form of expression – you can’t convey feelings by how you jump around a map. Although maybe this fellow would disagree:
  • Finally, games are dependent on technology. Of course, you could say this about electronic music. But for me, that’s a major mark against electronic music – if it takes you a minute to start your computer and another to load up your preset banks, you can’t claim to have the immediacy of raising a horn to your lips and blowing.

Hope you enjoyed that! Back to my usual music chat next week! As always, your comments are welcome and you can show appreciation by liking or following on WordPress, or liking/sharing on Facebook.

6 Bassline Strategies

I had the privilege recently of writing bass grooves for two awesome bands, Zaska and Mescalito. When I pondered over the lines I’d composed, I noticed certain techniques recurring. Today, I’ll briefly explain each technique. Plus I’ll link to a nice example of it in the reggae, funk, jazz or hip hop repertoire.

(If you want to hear the actual lines I wrote, come see Mescalito on March 24th in the Opium Rooms supporting Vernon Jane, or on April 14th in Sweeney’s, or see Zaska’s single release on April 23rd in the Sugar Club!)

1. Space

Silence can be one of the most attractive features of a cyclical bass groove. A gap, whether for half a beat or a full bar or more, lets other parts emerge, particularly drum hits. (Cutting off a bass note right on a snare backbeat is a cliche example.)

A short gap works as punctuation, giving the groove more of a shape, and therefore, it seems to me, more physical catchiness/danceability. For example, the “Stalag” riddim (which you may know as the groove for Sister Nancy’s “Bam Bam”), here underpinning Tenor Saw‘s hit “Ring The Alarm”…


Strat 1 Stalag.png
The “Stalag” bassline

Here’s another awesome 1-beat-ish gap in a reggae groove (beat 3 in the 2nd bar):



Strat 2 Sly & Robbie
Robbie Shakespeare’s line on “Computer Malfunction”

Longer spaces have a call-and-answer effect, as in this afrobeat groove…


Strat 3 Soffry.png
Leaving space for call-and-response (I’m not certain that this is really where the 1 is, by the way…)

2. Funky Melodic Cells

Like any other musical part, a strong bassline should be melodic. In a funky context, though, the tendency is usually towards blues melody rather than diatonicism. Out of the pool of blues notes I discussed a while back, a few 3- or 4-note cells emerge that are by far the strongest for constructing basslines. For example, 1 2 b3, 1 6 b7, 5 6 8 9, and the definitive cell for funk basslines, 1 5 b7. A catchy hook (i.e. with an intriguing rhythm) made from one of these cells can easily be a strong enough bassline to carry a tune.


Strat 4 Holland.png
The opening bass riff on “Not For Nothing” uses the 1 6 b7 cell


Strat 12 Hunter
The basic groove (coming in around 0:32) played by Hunter on 8-string guitar, using the 1 5 b7 cell

Here’s an example of a hook-y bassline built off the 1 2 b3 cell followed by a sequenced, retrograded version (that is, the first three notes are then transposed up a fifth and reversed in order).


Strat 5 ACR
Slap riff from A Certain Ratio’s “Waterline” (0:21)

More important than the motivic derivation, though, is the space in every 2nd bar which is used for call-and-response (in the form of improvised fills). Check out that nasty double-tracked slap sound too.


Another important aspect of that line is the clear direction of movement – up and then down, quite simply. A clear, uncomplicated contour like that strengthens the riff. For instance, the ascending bassline off the classic Scofield/Metheny collaboration…

Strat 6 Swallow.png
The A section groove for “Everybody’s Party”, with an ascending contour in each bar

As an aside, I would bet that this groove and the Dave Holland groove were both originally notated using 8th notes where I have 16th notes. Jazz musicians like reading 8th notes. It’s purely a notation decision with little or no musical impact, but I think 16ths are a more accurate reflection.

Octave Jumps

Steve Swallow’s bassline ascends a minor pentatonic scale before jumping from the b7 (Eb) back down to the root (F). We can imagine a variation of the where the scalar ascent continued, so instead of a jump down a minor 7th we would have a step-wise movement to the higher F:

Strat 7 No Displacement
Steve Swallow’s groove without the octave displacement at bar 2

The played line uses octave displacement of what would otherwise be step-wise movement. Another example of this is Marcus Miller’s nifty elaboration of the classic “Red Baron” groove (composed originally by Billy Cobham).


Strat 8 MIller.png
Octave displacement of step-wise movement

The Meters’ “Funky Miracle”, here sampled by DJ Premier for an early Gang Starr track, features both a (pentatonic) stepwise melody and then its octave displacement.


Strat 9 Meters
Octave displacement of expected high Ab

Even simpler than octave displacement of step-wise movement, is a plain leap of an octave. This James Brown sample (1973’s “Blind Man Can See It”) has a downwards octave leap to the tonic note:

Strat 10 Brown
Sampled bassline used in “Funky Technician”

(Note also the clear contour and the use of space, albeit with the note ringing out rather than silence.)

Here’s an upwards octave leap from the IV note. (Fred Wesley and the Horny Horns’ “Four Play”, sampled by DJ Premier.)

Strat 11 Wesley.png
What a rugged groove! Premier’s sub-bass and scratching helps of course.

5. Circularity Via Pick-Up

Emphasising the cyclic nature of a groove creates a hypnotic, trancy effect. One way is to use a phrase that starts before beat one. I read somewhere that landing on, rather than starting from, the downbeat is a characteristic of African-derived music. That’s surely a huge generalisation, but it does tie in well to how bebop improvisation and alternate paths are based on directionality towards target chords.

Starting basslines on a pickup in this way is not a very common technique, but here’s a nice example:


Strat 13 Headhunters.png
Paul Jackson’s line on “God Make Me Funky” (drops around 0:50)

6. Circularity Via Dynamic Balance

This is a concept I picked up from Steve Coleman’s writings, but I’m not at all qualified to say much about it. As I see it, it’s a characteristic of African-derived rhythms such as clave… basically, the quality of having points of rest alternating with points of tension in a syncopated rhythmic cycle, producing forward motion (“dynamic”) and also a self-contained, universal circularity (“balance”). Hmmm, my prose is not really up to the task here! Anyway, do we find clave-like rhythms in the funk repertoire? Of course we do, in these classic basslines:


Gonna sign off here! Hope you picked up some groove wisdom from all of that. Like, follow and share!

The Real Blues Scale? Part 1

Two years ago I read Gerhard Kubik’s Africa and the Blues, and immediately liked how he explains blues melody. His emphasis on timbre (which for today’s purposes I’ll define as the distribution of overtones in a note) echoed Vijay Iyer, as well as my own experience. I’ll go through Kubik’s approach today using my own examples.

Skip James DGMW V 2
Verse 1 of Skip James’ “Devil Got My Woman” (1931). In the key of D.

I did my master research last year on this song. It doesn’t fit the typical explanations of blues melody: the minor pentatonic scale and the related six-note “blues scale”. Devil Got My Woman uses strong 5th and 6th tones (E and B) which aren’t in those scales.

Gerhard Kubik, an expert on African music, has perspectives other than Western harmony and melody. He claims that blues uses “timbre-harmony”.

I’ll do some lazy binary thinking for a moment to explain this concept, by comparing (timbre-harmonic) blues with (tonal) classical music.

In tonal music, harmony is considered separate from timbre. A chord or progression of chords is judged to be the same no matter what instrumental tone quality is used. The undeniable effects of tone quality are considered technicalities within the crafts of arranging and instrumentation (e.g. the “low interval limit”).

In timbre-harmonic music, there is no such distinction – the presence of overtones in the field of sounds, and the effects created when played chords resemble an overtone series, are a part of harmonic expression. Changes in timbre are potentially as meaningful as playing different notes. Chord tones may be employed more for their acoustic resonance than for voice-leading or functionality.

In tonal music, there is a fine gradient of dissonance leading towards the stability of triads. However, in timbral music, higher overtones such as the 7th, 9th and 11th may be heard as stable parts of a chord, while the general acceptance of (multiple) overtone series means that semitones or tones are less likely to be heard as clashing, and more likely to be “tasty”, desireable phenomena. Compare the typical highly altered final chord of a jazz piece, or the final chord of a traditional blues with its stylised b7th, with the triad closing a classical piece.

(Once more, this kind of binary comparison is lazy thinking. As counter-examples, African-American Scott Joplin used tonality; European Claude Debussy used timbralism. Composers like Thelonious Monk, Duke Ellington and Darcy James Argue among many others have brought great sophistication to music that bridges both approaches.)

How does Kubik explain blues melody from his timbre-harmonic perspective? Well, the overtone series of the tonic note can explain the major 3rd, 5th, b7th and 9th (2nd)…

D Harmonics
Overtones of D from fundamental to 9th. Then arranged in one octave.

… but not the 4th and b3rd. These are a crucial part of blues melody, as in the Fs and Gs in Skip James’s “Cherry Ball Blues”:


Skip James Cherry Ball V 1
Verse 1 of Skip James’ “Cherry Ball Blues” (1931). In D.

How can these notes be explained? Kubik’s insight was that blues melody combines the overtones of the tonic note with the overtones of the fourth degree (IV, the subdominant).


D Blues Scale
Gerhard Kubik’s system

Kubik posits that around the 1890s, African-descended musicians familiar with pentatonic field hollers, West African use of the overtone series, and European chord progressions on guitar, synthesised these into a new melodic and harmonic system. I and IV chords could be used to accompany minor pentatonic melodies. Cultural retentions of timbre-harmony strongly influenced guitar and vocal technique. Knowledge of the interference between the overtone series (where two tones are close, e.g. the 7th harmonic of IV, F and the 5th harmonic of I, F#) led to variations of pitch around the 3rd, 5th and 7th.

We’re still far from a full explanation, though. What about the use of bends and melisma? Kubik ascribes this to an “Arabic/Islamic influence in the western and central Sudanic belt” of Africa. I would add that guitar and vocal bends have a strong timbral effect: they change the distribution of overtones, and they can be used to “tune into” pleasing resonances. (A basic example is Skip James swooping up to the tonic note at the start of “Cherry Ball Blues”.) Sliding while modulating a sung vowel can strongly emphasise a particular harmonic. These techniques help explain the near-supernatural blend of voice and guitar in Skip James’ music. (Which characteristically uses “heterophony” to achieve this: the guitar doubling, with variations but in the same register, the vocal.)

This is getting pretty technical. Before we finish let’s see if Kubik’s concept shines any light on Skip James’s vocal lines.

Skip James DGMW V 2
The first bar of “Devil Got My Woman”‘s melody uses strong E notes (in the key of D). We might be tempted to call these the 9th harmonic of D. In context, though, they sound more like the 5th of a blues scale built off A, the dominant degree (V). This use of a full V blues scale over V7 chords is found in other blues musicians (Stevie Ray Vaughan, quite beautifully, for example).

Things get subtle here…. So, the normal, tonic blues scale uses notes from I harmonics and IV harmonics, and can be played over both I7 and IV7 chords. Notably, when the chord switches from I7 to IV7, this is not usually a trigger for transposing the whole melodic/scale structure up a fourth. However, when the chord is V7 (actually a V-7 in this and some other Skip James numbers), the scale does often transpose up a 5th.

(Tones and root notes regularly bleed between different chords in Skip James’ work. Here, differences between chords are less important than in tonal music – though still present. Analysis like mine eventually finds its limits in this cloudiness. Kubik uses the term “timbre-harmonic cluster” instead of “chord” to hint at this more suggestive than definitive role.)

In the melisma I’ve notated with a quintuplet, above, Skip James switches from the b3rd-3rd pitch area of an A blues scale to the 5th and 6th of a D blues scale – i.e. the IV part of the D blues scale. Then we get notes from the I series with ornamentations.

“Cherry Ball Blues” is simpler. We have a crystal clear laying out of the tonic note, then notes from the IV series, resolving to I series notes at the signature b3rd to 3rd (F to F#) bend. Again, a resolution from IV to I sounds. Then we can clearly see the switch from the I7 part of the D blues scale to an A blues scale in the move from F# to a G and A – made even clearer with the A pentatonic descent to a C to C# bend, b3rd to 3rd of A (IV series to I series of A).

Skip James Cherry Ball V 1
“Cherry Ball Blues”, verse 1.

“Cherry Ball” also uses b5ths. Kubik explains this note by including some higher harmonics in his system.

D + G w 11th & Intonation.png
Kubik’s system up to 11th harmonics, with intonations.

I’ve mentioned the tunings of notes this time. When I was first thinking through this stuff years ago, I was attracted by the “secret notes” with non-equal-tempered tunings. Now I’m kind of cautious. Skip James approaches many notes with a quick upwards slide of a fourth – the opposite of microtonal precision. In the flexible pitch areas caused by intersecting overtones, he chooses his tunings freely and almost always bends to and from them. So for me, those intonations are only important if they have a musical effect – say like Sonny Boy Williamson II’s unbelievably good flat 7th in his final chorus here:



I hope you got something out of this perspective on blues melody. I’m hoping to tackle how timbre-harmony applies to chords in Part 2. The stacked-overtone-series concept opened my mind on a lot of things. For instance, how both the b3rd-6th and 3rd-b7th tritones sound bluesy, but don’t work in a single chord. It’s also a good explanation of the power of bends such as b3rd-3rd, b5th-4th, and 6th-b7th.

To sign off, a final speculation. Steve Coleman calls attention to the “negative dominant” resolutions used in bebop, where IV-6 and bVI-6 melodies are used over V7 to I progressions. He calls them “alternate paths” or “invisible paths” (particularly when they are used in chains). Could the IV7 to I7 sound of blues melody be an earlier type of alternate path? That is, a way to resolve to the tonic, with cadential force, but disregarding the V7 to I resolution? I’m curious if these rule-breaking harmonic approaches could relate to a general African-American aesthetic of misdirection, trickery and evasion which crops up in folk tales (Signifyin’ Monkey, Br’er Rabbit), dance (the moonwalk) and sport (basketball moves).

Anyway! Comment if you like it, hate it, or if you have any blues thoughts of your own!

Oh, and, I had some things I want to say about the racist power imbalances involved in the categorisation of “country blues”, the fetishisation of unschooled part-time musicians like Skip James, and my position as a European analysing blues from records…. but I actually had too much I wanted to write so it will have to wait for another post!

Some Of My Best Friends Are Syncopations

Recognising the rhythmic shapes in syncopated music is not a skill that I’ve heard talked about much. I only became aware of it in the last year or so – before that, I only consciously did it with repeated riffs or drum patterns. Now I’ve started applying it to melodies, improvised lines and rapping.

Today I’ll write about using this perspective on some iconic Charlie Parker melodies. These (basic) analyses were first used in a workshop I gave for for The Jazzlab. This post is massively inspired by Steve Coleman’s incredibly knowledgeable discussion of Charlie Parker’s music.

Parker’s melodies were like prototype improvisations and have many of the same features as his solos. They’re incredibly rhythmically vital. I boiled them down to their rhythmic skeletons by isolating the accents – highest notes, lowest notes, isolated notes, and notes beginning and ending phrases.

Anthro Start Reduction Cropped
Isolating the accents of the opening phrase of Anthropology

This is a simple thing to do, although there are always multiple possible interpretations.  I soon noticed that in many places, the melodies reduce down to about one accent per half-bar.


Anthro Bridge Blocks of 4 Cropped
The accents in the bridge of Anthropology are either on beats 1 or 3, or anticipating or delaying those beats

This is interesting because it reminds me of the highly swinging comping patterns pianists use, for example Wynton Kelly on Freddie Freeloader.

Freddie Freeloader Piano Cropped
Comping rhythms from 2:14 on Freddie Freeloader (1st two trumpet choruses)

Of course, Freddie Freeloader is less than half the tempo of Anthropology. But I think that just illustrates how swing stays structurally similar at a wide scale of tempos. And I think this half-bar level of rhythmic activity is essential to swing, together with 8th note lead lines and quarter note walking bass. It’s also a fantastic way to see the ebb and flow of rest and dynamism, i.e. on- and off-beat energy. For example, in the first A of Charlie Parker’s Confirmation, the first off-beat creates motion which then receives emphasis (“Confirmation”?) from three on-the-beat hits, but resists the strong resting point of bar 3 by anticipating it. The rest of the A section is mostly unresolved, creating a strong desire for the downbeat which comes at the top of the 2nd A section.



Confirmation A
1st A section of Confirmation

I found patterns at the one-bar scale, among the most common of which were:


3 3 Pattern
From bars 2, 6, 15, 22 & 30 of Confirmation
3 5 Pattern
From bars 9 & 10 of Billie’s Bounce

The pattern in Billie’s Bounce could also be interpreted as a grouping of 3 3 2, which is an archetypal syncopation.


3 3 2
3 3 2 grouping

I like using the name “Cuban triplet” for it, but it is found pretty much everywhere – cakewalk to heavy metal, reggaeton to rock’n’roll. All of these one-bar syncopations could be described as the interaction of groups of 3 with a one-bar frame.


At the two-bar scale there are a bunch of lovely patterns. Many of these are at the exact same half-bar level of rhythmic activity that I talked about, but viewing them in a 2-bar frame makes them more recogniseable. Drummers and pianists use these 2-bar shapes as comping cliches.

Last A of Confirmation Cropped
The last A section of Confirmation starts with this rhythm





3-4 of Anthropology
Bars 3-4 of Anthropology use this rhythm

I suspect the 2-bar frame is a more meaningful division in swing than the single bar. One really important thing about two-bar syncopations is that they often resemble claves. The rhythm above is close to a 2:3 rhumba clave, while bars 5-6 of Relaxin’ At Camarillo resemble a 2:3 son clave.

5-6 of Relaxin' Cropped
From bars 5-6 of Relaxin’ At Camarillo

These examples are within a note or two of replicating a clave. However, Steve Coleman points out that very many of Charlie Parker’s phrasings using groups of 3 have a clave-like energy of shifting yet balanced accents, even if they don’t immediately resemble the classic Afro-Cuban rhythms.

I’ll finish with quick examples of two more phenomena that Coleman identified in Parker’s music.

The first is rhythmic voice-leading. This, like voice-leading in tonal music, is a way of smoothly connecting one point with another. It involves using repeated identical groupings to target a particular rhythmic placement.

5-7 Billie's Bounce Cropped
Rhythmic voice-leading in bars 5-7 of Billie’s Bounce

Here, groups of 2 target the anticipation of bar 6, then groups of 3 target beat 2 of bar 7. Groups of 4, 5, etc. can also be used. However, this is not the same concept as polyrhythm, polymetre or modulation (though these also use repeated groupings). The crucial difference is that the groupings do not set up an independent layer, but a path from one point to another. They have directionality. I feel this distinction wasn’t conveyed when I learnt about groupings in jazz school.

Finally, Charlie Parker’s melodies use palindromic energy. This is a huge topic, full of beauty, but I’ll just give some quick examples of sequences of groupings that are the same going backwards or forwards.

Anthropology 4 bars
Palindromic accents at the start of Anthropology: 4 3 4 3 3 3 4 3 4
Confirmation Start Palindrome
Palindromic accents at the start of Confirmation: 4 4 3 3 4 3 3 4 4

I hope you found something interesting in this post, and maybe got another perspective on syncopated rhythm. I think this way of seeing/feeling underlying structures is incredibly powerful for improvising, composing and analysing. Again, please comment!