Scaffolding

Progression

For me, this was the beginning of my “technical” enlightenment. Music is shaped a lot like stories.

The best way to bore people is to stay in one static place for too long. Music is not fixed like visual art, music is a temporal art. That means that change is a part of it, it’s almost all there is.

If you stay with one note, one sound, one measure, one anything, for too long, you will bore people. The best way to avoid this is to progress from one thing to the next thing.

…what attracts human attention is change. …if the temperature around you changes, if the phone rings — that gets your attention. The way in which a story begins is a starting event that creates a moment of change. — Robert McKee

If you start off with an introductory section that’s 2 minutes long, with a kick and snare going, that will most likely be too long for most people.

To avoid them leaving, you need to give them a signal that “change is coming”. This simple thing is what creates sweet anticipation.

And that signal could be something as simple as rising sine wave.

Anything that is rising in volume, pitch, speed, etc. It could rise slowly, or quickly.

If you rise slowly, a long build-up, with more and more elements coming in, you create an expectation (or in story terms: set-up) of a larger pay-off (both in intensity and time).

By larger pay-off, I mean a big explosion, a big fall, a big release musically, and in sound design.

Listen to Hans Zimmer’s Mountains for a slow build and large pay-off

People are thinking “oh…something is coming…something is coming…what’s it going to be? Is it going to be the same way I predict it? what’s gonna happen?” — It’s like the question balloons in size, the more the rise rises in volume, pitch, or addition of instruments or elements.

Imagine blowing a balloon, the more you blow it the more it increases in size, the more tension in the room builds “it will pop any second now” — the closer it gets to popping the higher the uncertainty of when it will pop, and how it will pop (musically that’s the best time to surprise people)…but people are beginning to be certain that it will pop if it keeps getting bigger.

If you rise quickly (a few seconds), with quiet elements, the expectation of a pay-off is lower in size and less likely to occur.

But many small consecutive quick rises can, when put together, build to a larger rise.

This is basically an almost fail-safe way to eliminate boredom. Always have something rising, like a person leading you by the hand into another room or place.

To “check the temperature” of your music, you could set your own timeframe of how fast you want your music to change in the slow-build, and in the fast-build. I think a good rule of thumb is skipping every 30 seconds and asking the question: Has your song changed? Are new elements or instruments in? Are old instruments and elements out? — That could be for the slow build. For the fast build you could have a 2–5 second limit, where you gotta change, but it’s not necessary, and is subject to taste as well.

The rule simplified is: In addition to anticipation, with every new section of the song, you add, say, 2 new elements, and remove 2 old elements. Removing one element, or two elements, or however many, can signal a change is coming too (because the very act of removal is a change). Now, this is just a general rule, and you can increase the number of elements to as many as you want: 50, 100, 1,000.

Repetition is the enemy of rhythm — Robert McKee

If you repeat one sound, you can keep the listener engaged by slightly varying that with an effect…as McKee once put it, when you repeat something with the same intensity either rising, or falling, you are static — unchanging, not moving anymore. You must double or halve the intensity (however you may define intensity, be it: volume, pitch, velocity, or simply variety and texture).

That shape / structure of rise and fall could then be applied across the entire song as a big picture tool, but also for all the little details. Every few seconds, or sound could have its own rise and fall which contribute to the overarching rise and fall of the “scenes” “sequences” and “acts” of your song.

In my opinion, and subjective taste, the best music has a mixture of both — slow builds, and quick builds.

Both coming together and working in tandem to create an eargasmic experience (excluding of course the quality of the ingredients or elements for the time being, which is also important).

Here’s some music that I think fits that description perfectly:

Now, if Hans Zimmer had just put a fart sound instead of those horns for the “fall” or “pay-off” or “climax”, it might be funny, but it’d be disappointing musically.

In other words, there’s one thing I feel I, personally, have to abide by which is delivering on the expectation of intensity but breaking the expectation “texture” wise. Anything on top of that (the texture for instance) is your taste.

Music theory wise, if you were just working with the bare melody, chords, etc. I might interpret this slightly differently, but I don’t know enough yet to do that unfortunately.

Robert McKee put it brilliantly when he said “the ending must be surprising but inevitable” like the song or story couldn’t end any other way.

To me that translates to: the ending fits the style of the song (inevitable), fulfills your expectation of intensity (pay-off), but subverts your expectations of ____ (something else…it could be “texture”, it could be “structure”)

You can surprise people with structural “sleight of hand” by tricking them into thinking you’re ending the song, or beginning a song, or music theory wise by going to a different scale, or chord in a different scale. If you can combine all of those together, you can amplify that feeling of “eargasm”

I wish I had more music theory under my belt to explain switches like this one by Angelo Badalamenti (ends around 4 mins), because to me, that is the definition of eargasm — but with nothing but a piano. The switch: It’s surprising, yet pleasing.

Update: That is a key and scale switch from F Minor to C major + good voice leading.

To me, there’s no point in surprising people just for the sake of it. You can surprise people and disappoint them, you can surprise them and displease them. I don’t see the point.

Complexity

By complexity, I don’t mean complexity music theory wise — although, that can fit in with the point I’m trying to get across.

By complexity, I mean variety, and high number of sounds and elements.

Complexity comes in layers of sound and additional detail that either emphasize, or enrich existing elements, or complement existing elements structurally.

The more complex your song, the more of a feast it is for your listener. The more they’ll come back to it to discover new things they hadn’t heard before.

Gregory Scott from Kush Audio, and the UBK Happy Funtime Hour (funniest podcast on music production / mixing / mastering), said “Complexity is something I like to go in and out of in music.”

He said that he can use complexity as a tool for a climax / chorus. You can be very minimal in the beginning sections, but when the chorus comes in you can get very complex, or the other way around.

I like that way of thinking, but it’s not the only way.

I like the complexity Nicolas Jaar has. It seems to me the complexity in his music is always there… Maybe though in the “verse” sections, if you could call them that, the layers are quieter.

It’s hard to analyze his music because it’s so complex. I’m having a hard time deciding or identifying: does he always have quiet layers, and does he increase the volume during the climaxes?

Nicolas Jaar seems to have more contrast in his music, when it comes to shining the spotlight on a particular element or instrument, or melody.

But it’s as if the spotlight is jittery and picks up details in the back, or there’s low backlights and you can see some of the detail there.

The point I’m trying to make is…just because you have a lot of complexity for the majority of the song, doesn’t necessarily mean the song has no progression.

The song can still progress with a lot of complexity, and the way to progress with near constant complexity is through variety of textures and elements, and I think Nicolas is a great example of this.

I think complexity shines when you combine it with the constant subversion of expectation structurally, but also delivering of the pay-off. I think James Holden’s Lump is an excellent example of this.

To me, that is almost a different kind of complexity. It could be its own category. The complexity of structure / subversion of expectation / constant surprise.

The way you then elevate that complexity even further (let’s assume you’ve got 3,000 layers of sound), is through automation. On each layer, you’ve got, say, 5–20 VSTs or AUs (Plugins for a DAW (Digital Audio Workstation)), and each VST is moving in some way.

For example, imagine a synth going through an effect chain that is split into four new effect chains. Each effect chain has a different series of effects on it, with a binaural plugin at the end of each one that puts the sound behind, in front, or to either sides of the listener.

Then, imagine moving those positions slowly throughout the song, or quickly before a transition. Combine that with other aspects or effects moving on each chain. You could create some very complex movements on each layer making it almost impossible to completely decipher for the listener, which makes repeat listens more probable.

Ingredients

The quality of your ingredients matters greatly. If you add sounds, elements, instruments, melodies, chords, or anything that is lesser than “HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS IS AMAZING. THIS IS JUMP ON MY BED AMAZING!” your music will feel, to you, weaker than it could be. (Meaning it could be stronger…that was a weird sentence.)

So work with high quality ingredients as much as you can. You’ll find in the beginning your technical skill is not sufficient enough to make high quality ingredients.

Exposure in the technical realm helps with that. Refined searching on Google, and Youtube through constant rephrasing of your goal or problem can help you better find information that helps you with the specific goal you want to accomplish.

I’d pair that with exposure in the artistic realm. Why? Because exposure in the artistic realm can heighten what you think are high quality ingredients, so you’re always improving.

With just a few high quality ingredients, you almost don’t need complexity to make good music. But if you combine the two, it can still be amazing. By “high quality” I simply mean “highly taste resonant” as in “resonates with your taste on a very deep level” or “makes you cry” or (and this is the best one), puts you in a bittersweet depression that makes you want to give up being an artist.

That’s the time to celebrate! Now all you need is to find a thousand other of those, filter what is absolutely stunning, learn the necessary technical skill to replicate them accurately, combine those, and you’re good to go.

Spatialization

The final thing I’ve noticed a lot of the “pros” or “experts” do is what I call “spatialization” — this just means placing your instruments or elements in different places around the listener. This you could view as mixing as opposed to producing I suppose, or both.

This is something I first noticed, when listening closely to Nicolas Jaar’s “A Coin in Nine Hands”

Now, to me, this isn’t simply panning some stuff right and left. To me, this is making the listener feel like they are in an ever-changing environment, with things going far away, coming back close to them. You can even merge this idea with the idea of progression.

For example, you start off with elements that are close to your listener’s head, and they slowly progress outwards, or even…inwards :O

What would it be like if you could take the frequencies the skull resonates with, and make it feel like a sound is literally going into your skull through your ear?

But the point is to realize the power of spatialization. Don’t just make an element and put it there in one place.

Make that element move from near to far, from right to left. From front to back — use that element’s movement as a signal to a transition, or as a way to shine the spotlight on the element.

Plugins that are helpful to use for this are things like NX Ambisonics by Waves, which is basically like a binaural spatializer / panner. It can place objects behind your listener, or in front, or on the right.

And it seems realistic because it adds a touch of room reverb that reflects off the other side. Another one, which is free, is AMBEO Orbit by Senheiser which can actually control elevation + binaural 3D panning, in addition to room reverb, with different types of reverb (curtain, glass, etc.)

Plugins like Zephyr can help you simulate binaural 3D reverb which can give an added layer of realism, as well as the reverb Muze which can simulate near and far fields, and just when you think you can’t go further than that, the same company, NuSpace Audio has a binaural 3D delay plugin called Aeko which is also quite mind blowing! I highly recommend them.

If you combine that with something like a doppler effect (Waves has a good one, but I’ve yet to explore all options), to signal a “something is coming” feeling to create a climax, or explosion it can really gel your different sections together very well, and add to that “space” and surprise at the same time.

I did this with “At The Beach” at the climax. The link takes you to the exact spot. If you listen closely during the quiet part at 3:20, you can hear a doppler effect of something coming, like a meteor, and then BOOM! Explosion!

When you get to the chorus or climax, you can have things go really far, or really close (which is something Nicolas does in Nymphs II).

Or you can have contrast on both sides. On the right things are really far, on the left, very close. And then flip that when it gets to the climax.

When you do this with enough instruments, elements, and layers, your music feels amazing! Like a living breathing animal, or a full feast of a world. When you pair spatialization, with good EQing and in particular, compression…you reach a whole new level of “beautiful”

Core

Music Theory

I know very little music theory, I wish I knew more but I’m “handicapped” by just how incredibly dry the learning materials are out there. I’m still on a search to find exciting materials that really spread music theory’s wings.

But my theory is so far, that music theory is the first key to getting the “core” right. By core, I mean, melodies, chords, and your basic song structure. Your music can feel empty if all you focus on is the “scaffolding” …when you add “core” you add “cœur” which means heart in French.

Music theory, as far as I’m aware, and with a bit of estimation, can give you the tools to replicate and understand the music of your influences. But it isn’t just that. When you break free from the mold of surface level knowledge about music theory you can reach “deeper” levels of feelings. Meaning…more nuanced feelings. Feelings that are not your typical “happy” and “sad”… Feelings like “nostalgia” or other associations you might have with those frequencies.

This gives you enormous control of emotion in music. You can reach Angelo Badalamenti levels of greatness.

(I now know how he did it, but he didn’t just do a switch from minor to major or vice versa. He switched that in addition to a key change.

All I meant was that surface level knowledge of music theory can handicap one technically from understanding or replicating great artists, and limit one’s emotional palette.)

That’s where I’m going next…