New Style I'm Trying Out.

Vincent, Vincent

Sorry for the atrocious quality! I'll hopefully record a better one later this week. Thanks so much for watching!

Music Genres

I find it dumb when people believe that genres are defined entirely by their instrumentation. Genres, in my oh so humble opinion, are defined by the mannerisms and minute details. Here’s why:

The first mannerism separating genres is melody. Let’s take three largely opposing genres as examples: rock/metal, country, and pop. In rock/metal (clean vocals), there are particular melodic patterns in parallel with chordal patterns (which I’ll also get to) that belong to the genre. A perfect example of this is the chord progression of V^3 - i (dominant with a raised third to tonic minor) paired with the melody of 5 - #7 - 1. This whole idea simply belongs to rock/metal and is rarely ever used in other genres because of its quality and affiliations.

The next factor is chord progressions and other functionalities of music. For example, rock/metal is more often than not in a minor key, while country is more often than not in a major one (pop can go either way). Rock/metal is usually faster-paced with a driving drum-line (with exceptions of course), pop has a pace designed for dancing with a pulsing baseline, and country is often (again, with exceptions) less about speed and drive, and even faster songs don’t have such a drive as other genres. Rock/metal (depending on the sub-genre) can range from standard four chord progression to a single chord for most of a song to baroque style harmonic passages, pop usually leans more towards two to four chords (depending on the sub-genre) and country often has a standard four chord progression. There are of course exceptions, but these are defining generalizations.

Another factor is timbre of voice. There is of course a slight difference between the country twang and screaming, but it’s more important than that. In country, artists often focus on vocal prowess (whether alone or in many part harmony), and it shows in the slides, trills, even in the choice of melodic structure. This leads to a focus on the vocal track and clean tone with some stylistic roughness. The “twang” (arguably) comes from the southern accents of the people who created the genre. In pop, there is sometimes a focus on vocal prowess, but there is more of a focus on memorability. This lends to extremely clean vocals (even those with electronic alterations/enhancements are clean). In rock/metal, there is almost no focus on vocal prowess. Throughout this genre, there are many different focuses like clear simple expression of an emotion, poetic significance within the rest of the music, etc.

The final factor that I’ll discuss here is percussion. In my experience, percussion is the single most important part of a piece of music. (The reasoning behind this can be explained with a very simple example: when bands want to make a repetition of a chorus sound more powerful, the drummer simply uses the crash cymbal for quarter notes as opposed to the ride or the high-hat. Everything else, even the rest of what the drummer does, doesn’t change.) In rock/metal, drumming is what drives music forward. A focus of rock/metal can often be percussive prowess (see August Burns Red, Phinehas). Pop’s percussion can be brought down to “boots ‘n cats” or even “boots ‘n boots” (see Cheerleader, Uptown Funk). As for country, I haven’t done enough research or listening to be able to say anything for percussion right now.

So what? Why do I care about this? Because a lot of people don’t get it. Take popular Christian music for example. Often, there is a song that’s public domain that various different groups will make a version of and change only one thing: the instrumentation. Another example is when a band doesn’t know their own genre. If the composer for a group doesn’t write music for that group’s genre, what are they writing for? I am a firm believer in pushing the envelope and challenging the status quo, but some things simply don’t work. There are very few things that irritate me more than ineffective, thoughtlessly written music.

Spare Change

The dimly lit chapel is silent. If my grandmother were still alive, she would be the only one crying for her son. People like my father, who was sometimes irrationally poetic, never take into account their cause of death when asking for an open casket funeral. I guess having the shit beaten out of you over a gambling debt doesn’t cross one’s mind as the way they’re going to die. I can’t say I never wished it on him though.

I’m standing at the back of the sanctuary, partially watching the people come to pay respects, partially lost in thought. There are few enough attenders that I can still see his coffin; simple and bright, like he was once. I truly thought I loved my father, but he was not a good man, in the end. The last two years were rough; learning that my father would sell out his family was rough. We weren’t slaves, but we would’ve been on the streets if I hadn’t dropped out of college to get a job. Hell, we all had to drop things; we had to sell my little brother Jamie’s piano. I’ll probably hate myself the rest of my life for taking that away from him, but I’d be damned if I let him starve. All our bills and costs now aren’t a quarter of what he took to throw at cards. I was relieved when I found out he bit it; I’ll probably hate myself a long time for that too.

I’ve made my way to the middle of the aisle, where Jamie’s standing. He hugs me tight, resting his head on my chest. Fourteen’s an awkward age where he understands what’s happening, but he doesn’t know how to deal with it. I imagine we could have been good friends if we’d have more time these last couple years, but I’ve been working and he’s been hiding up in his room; he really looked up to dad.

Dad. It’s a foreign word to me. I suppose I haven’t said it in well over a year, I haven’t really thought of him like that in so long. Hopefully Jamie still does, or did. It’s still weird he’s gone.

When I was nine, we made a bet, my dad and I. My baby brother had just been born, and I was upset because I thought I was going to be replaced by him. He bet me three bucks that Jamie would never replace me. Being nine, I didn’t understand what it meant to make that kind of bet, but I’m not ignorant to it now.

I find myself standing by my father’s body, some people looking at me, maybe waiting for me to say something. I reach into my pocket and grab a fiver; drop it in with him.

“Keep the change.”

Sleepless Night - Memphis May Fire

lina gordievsky

Old song, but it's snowing out, so it kind of fits!

Snow is falling at your feet You think to yourself, man, isn’t that neat Every year it comes and goes Quite a lot like wind that blows

The world keeps spinning round and round Everything keeps making sound The rain will pour down on your parade People will continue their masquerade

Is it really worth the pain? All the aching, all the strain One would really move to think That we will soon run out of ink

Doesn’t matter what you say Doesn’t matter what you do This world won’t ever stop for you Scream as loud as you can You’re still just a man

They may say you’re not enough Or maybe it’s the voices upstairs, they’re rough Hiding yourself away Won’t ever make it really go away

Maybe you are different Maybe you’re not on the hunt For something of a way out Maybe you’re just trying To figure out

How to keep calm Carry on Just because everything’s going to change Doesn’t mean nothing will ever be the same The night was long But here comes the dawn Say a prayer, build a bridge Hope is coming o’er the ridge Just keep calm And carry on.

How are you?

I'm a bit down because of stuff, but I can't complain. (:

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