How I improved my sense of rhythm: Part 2
It was in my college years that I really took the plunge deep into rhythm and for that matter, music as well. Like countless other guitarists, my first song on stage was Hotel California by The Eagles. At the time though, I was really into metal music (to the vast majority of readers, I humbly ask to be spared judgment), so we ended up adding much more distortion to the guitar parts at the end, making it an almost Iron Maiden-esque anthem.
What we didn’t change (perhaps fortunately) was the time signature of the song. It was in standard 4/4 time. For the benefit of those who don’t know what 4/4 is, it’s a pattern of rhythm that gets used in a ridiculously large majority of the songs we listen to. Simply put, 4-beat time involves the song moving in groups of 4 beats. 1–2–3–4 | 1–2–3–4 and so on. Most music lovers are thoroughly used to this time signature, so much so that some of them might consider this synonymous with rhythm in general.
After my first year of college, when I was practicing playing the guitar for hours at a stretch in the summer, I chanced upon a few songs that were doing something different rhythmically. I was already aware of subdivisions but I hadn’t fully mastered the concept to apply it instinctively to all the music I heard. In a vague way though, I saw that the accents in these songs were not where I expected. I was used to emphasis being placed strongly on beats 1 or 3 in a group of 4, and while many other songs used accents in odd places, they didn’t avoid the accents on 1 or 3. These songs on the other hand, refused to emphasise what are traditionally called the strong beats (1 and 3) as compared to the weak beats (2 and 4).
Exposure to these songs got me more interested in the rhythmic aspect of music. I didn’t actively act on this interest but it was always there at the back of my mind.
I’ve often thought to myself in college that the band Tool completely destroyed my sense of music. As strong as that sounds, I had reasons for saying it that made sense at the time. Towards the end of my second year, one of my friends in the Music Club introduced me to Tool. I went to his room and he played the song Vicarious from their 2006 album 10,000 Days. My first reaction was distaste and boredom. I didn’t understand why anyone would listen to this willingly. It didn’t adhere to the norms I was habituated to. It didn’t stick to the “rules” as I knew them. I felt no pleasure in listening to the song so I left his room a song-and-a-half later, putting the whole thing behind me and thinking about which “good” song I could practice.
A few days later, in my room, I told myself it’d probably be a good idea to just be accepting of different kinds of music; so I powered up my laptop and played the same song my friend had played in his room: Vicarious. I listened closely, trying to avoid judgment at any point in the song. I sat through it with eyes closed from start to finish and after it had finished playing, I ended up playing it more than 20 times in succession. That’s about 2 hours of listening to one song, and I’m the kind who never likes any song on repeat.
This seems to be a common pattern with Tool fans: Distaste. Repetition. Obsession.
The obsession starts because you start to notice what makes this kind of music different from what you usually listen to on the radio or the Top charts. While there are many such differentiating elements, two things that stick out are the time signature and the use of polyrhythms.
A simple increment of just 1 beat per cycle from a 4-beat pattern to a 5-beat pattern changes the dynamic of the song. Rhythm is movement, and a change as small as this can change the way you move to a song. We’re all probably used to the feeling of moving our bodies to the beat of a 4-beat pattern. Whether it’s dancing or head banging or swaying or just plain tapping your foot, the 1st beat feels the strongest followed by a somewhat strong 3rd beat. The return to the 1st beat is so natural and powerful.
When it comes to a 5-beat pattern, we expect the 5th beat to be a strong beat because of our familiarity with countless experiences of 4-beat patterns but the first time you listen to a 5-beat pattern and your expectations are deflated on every 5th beat, you feel totally disoriented. Then you get used to the groove of 5 beats and your movement slowly begins to change. You move in a way that’s asymmetric and irregular compared to before. The new rhythm begins to alter your sense of movement in a way that I find hard to put into words. The closest I can come to describing it is by calling it a fluid, wavy motion.
Each time signature has its own groove. The way you move changes depending on whether you’re listening to 5-beat, 7-beat, 4-beat or any other beat pattern, and this is only one aspect of rhythm that changes the way you move. Depending on the accents you place within each beat pattern, the way you move with the music can dramatically change.
For instance, in the song The Pot (by Tool again) the verse can really be considered to have a 4-beat pattern with beautifully placed, odd accenting within the 4 beats that makes it seem as far from a 4-beat pattern as you could imagine. The first time I listened to it, I wouldn’t have dreamt that what I had just heard had 4-beat verses. The syncopation was just too good for my ears.
I think I could go on and on with odd time signatures, accents and syncopation but perhaps I can leave that for another time. There’s one more thing I learned from bands like Tool, Rush and Dream Theater: polyrhythms.
I like to think of polyrhythms as harmony applied to rhythm. If you’re familiar with melody and harmony when it comes to notes, then it should be an easy leap of analogy for you. When we play a melodic instrument like a flute or the human voice, we’re going in a single line of melody. Adding another line of melody in counterpoint or adding harmony through chords would make many notes interact with each other through time. We can play harmonic passages like these using multiple instruments or using an instrument individually capable of harmony like a guitar or piano.
When we perceive a single rhythmic line, let’s say with a snare drum or by clapping, it’s akin to melody. The rhythmic line may introduce many time signatures and syncopate in unexpected ways but it would be a linear experience. Add one or more rhythmic voices to the mix and you’re now capable of contrasting one beat pattern against others.
We’ve already experienced this when we listen to a drum kit being played. The reason we don’t notice that anything special is going on is because the polyrhythms are generally in multiples of 2. A 2-beat pattern might be contrasting with a 4-beat one, or a 2-beat with a 6-beat pattern. This makes the accents fall in the regular places so we’re not quite taken aback, even if it’s a 3-beat with a 12-beat or a 5-beat with a 10-beat pattern.
On the other hand, a polyrhythm where a 3-beat plays over a 5-beat can really catch us off-guard. I know it’s hard for many to imagine what a 3–5 polyrhythm would even sound like. I can only explain it conceptually. You should listen to it to really know what it’s all about.
Please bear with me on the calculations. It’s the only way I know to explain this with text. The easiest approach is of course to just play the polyrhythm for your ears so you can perceive it through sound. You can keep referencing the way the patterns line up below while you’re reading my dry, theoretical explanation.
5 cycles of 3-beat add up to 15 beats and 3 cycles of 5-beat add up to the same, 15 beats. We’ll look at the polyrhythm through this lens of 15 beats. The first 3 beats are entirely normal but on the 4th beat, the 3-beat pattern starts its next cycle and creates an accent while the 5-beat is still to end its first cycle. This kind of accent-contrast happens on the 6th beat, when the 5-beat is starting its second cycle but the 3-beat is just finishing its 2nd cycle. This seemingly random play of accents is actually highly ordered and creates a beautiful pattern of tension throughout the 15 beats, when finally on the 16th beat, the start of the next cycle of the entire polyrhythm, the 5-beat and 3-beat both share an accent on the same beat, thus setting up the start of another cycle of 15 beats.
This is how they would line up:
1–2–3 | 1–2–3 | 1–2–3 | 1–2–3 | 1–2–3||1…
1–2–3 - 4–5|1 — 2- 3–4 - 5|1–2 – 3–4–5||1…
Bold indicates accented beat. I’ve spaced them them out a bit so it’s clearer how they line up
Phew! A polyrhythm is worth more than a thousand words by the looks of it. Going back to my time in college, the first polyrhythm that completely threw me off was the ending section of the song Aenima (you guessed it, it’s by Tool) where the voice of Maynard James Keenan saying “Hey!” follows a straight 3-beat pattern while the cymbals crash in a 4-beat pattern. You can listen to it to get an idea of what I’d call a 3–4 polyrhythm.
That about wraps up what I learned about rhythm during this period in my life but I never told you why I thought any of this destroyed my sense of music. Well…before Tool, I was going in a fairly smooth trajectory with my musical skills. I was getting better at the guitar by leaps and bounds, my understanding of melody and harmony was improving and I was becoming more adept at rhythmic subdivision. After listening to Vicarious that fateful day in my room, I remained obsessed with Tool for well over a year. I practiced their songs. I tried understanding how they used rhythm to drive the song. My interest for the bass guitar and drums increased tremendously and all I cared about was rhythm. It had reached a point where I wasn’t listening to much else. I began to judge all songs almost solely on the basis of their rhythm. I even picked up the drums so I could play the polyrhythms Danny Carey used in Tool’s songs. As a result, my guitar playing suffered. I hardly challenged myself to do anything new in terms of melody or harmony. A year later, my skill on the guitar had actually deteriorated. That’s when I realised that my obsession with Tool had cost me other musical skills I had ignored.
On the other hand, my sense of rhythm had scaled new heights. I was able to appreciate the finer rhythmic aspects of all songs. I began to see how rhythm drove the song and without it, all that would remain was a series of disconnected notes lacking the context of movement through time.
Looking back, I don’t think that Tool destroyed my music any more than knowledge destroys innate creativity. Still, I’m glad I continued where I had left off with my other musical skills after that one year. There are, after all, a wide variety of skills I need to refine so I can be a well-rounded musician.
Contrasting rhythms and accents is a great way to solidify your sense of rhythm but more importantly, if you do get a chance, open your ears and yourself to music you would normally resist at the outset. Acquired taste certainly benefited me in diving into the depths and intricacies of rhythm through Indian classical music. But that’s another story entirely.
