The drums are the floor: smooth hard wood finely polished. The drums are solid, unyielding and rock steady. Yet, if they are played well, they go barely noticed. You never hear the drums, you only feel them deep in your chest.
The bass forms the legs and the feet: the things that move about making contact from here to there with the floor and setting the pattern of the dance. The legs of the bass are strong and stand easily on their own, moving surely yet effortlessly across the dance floor of the drums.
The chord structure is the body: that which moves and writhes and fleshes out the identity of the tune. The chord structure is the boney hips and supple shoulders upon which the bright clothes of the melody are hung. The melody only serves to clear up any matters that the chord structure has left unresolved.
But the melody.... Child, the melody is the finger-tips that snap and the eyes that flash and the voice that pierces through all the noise and tells the story. The melody is the tale, the melody is the front man for a crack band. The melody is the thing that we take with us when we finally leave the tune.
But the reason we are never able to leave the tune is because there is a countersunk, yet indispensable additional component. Hung there, in the rafters of the tune, perched like a wise old owl that sees all and hollers out: "Who?!" "Who?!" whenever he sees fit, is the counter-melody, the harmony, the irony of the lyrics, the thing that reaches out and defines the tune, identifies the emotion and causes the listener to make it his or her own.
The business of the tunesmith, the craftsman, the storyteller - is to take little slices of life and preserve them in amber. Give them fingers that snap and eyes that flash. And then upon strong, easy legs, set them out upon the floor and let them dance.
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jmac1949
Lisa Scroggins
jlsathre
toritto
Deborah Young
I am Stretch
Salon.com
Comments
R
Tom: A compliment of the highest order. Thank you. Feel free to use the analogy next time you need it.
Scarlett: Ah, the harmonica... that's the piercing vocal substitute. It speaks in music what most people can only say. I love the instrument... when it is played poorly it is mortifying, but when it is played well, there is no sound so beautiful.
Usually they just smile like I'm crazy . . . and that's okay . . . but damn, man - you nailed it here.
Owl: Did you recognize yourself up in the rafters?
Beautiful, beautiful analogies!
~Rated~
Dr. Spud: I thought you danced when you walked off arm in arm with those two young lovelies.
Harriet Why: Show me the money.
Thanks all!