Writing Lines

Okay, first let me say this; you may not like these pieces.

But don’t worry, that’s fine.

When I set out on the journey that became Lines I had big ideas about music and I needed to work them out.

Let me explain.

Music is essentially made up of two things.

1. Going from one note to the next (melodies)
2. Playing two or more notes at the same time (chords)

In other words: counterpoint, right?

Does this mean that, by extension, all music is made up of counterpoint?
Yes, I would say so.

And there is no purer example of counterpoint than the Bach Inventions.

Two lines, nothing more. No extra notes, no held tones, no pedaling.
Everything in the piece is grown from one single idea.
And from that idea and those two lines come rhythm, texture, colour, form and drama.

Now that’s composition.

Let me tell you, if you want to test yourself and improve as a composer, inventions are the ticket. But whatever you do, don’t write them like Bach. That’s been done already and you can’t do it better.

My big idea for Lines was to adapt the concepts of traditional counterpoint to my own style.

I could feel there was a way of writing that offered that same degree of control as traditional counterpoint, but without all the artificial.

I needed to have the freedom to use any sound at any time combined with the means to organize them.

Simultaneous freedom and control? Oh yes. I could feel there was a way, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

It took me a Master’s of music, hundreds of articles and books, and a total of 13 years (give or take) to get it!

And like all great math equations, the solution was elegantly simple...

The counterpoint in any a given piece is derived from its main idea.

That’s it. That simple.

But simple is not the same as easy.

Easy is sitting at home watching Seinfeld reruns. No one ever said that composition was easy.

Now that I had my counterpoint, I needed melodic ideas to work with.

Because I had big ideas for my lines as well. I wanted exciting lines that flowed naturally even though they were chromatic as all hell.

I turned to Benny Goodman for inspiration, a true master of the line, and thanks to Benny I achieved
Lines that were fluid, organic, virtuosic and exciting.

I also had big ideas for the way the two lines interacted. Both had to be completely logical on their own, connected together with a pervasive logic while using rhythms that looked beyond Bach.

I turned to funk music for a different approach to contrapuntal rhythms.

That’s right. Funk.

Funk has a rhythmic drive that is built on a unique counterpoint filled with interlocking rhythms and ostinati.

The thing is, I didn’t want these pieces  to only be dry little exercises in composition. That kind of defeats the purpose, I think. They needed to be pieces filled with life and energy. Funk paved the way.

But if you notice that none of the six inventions in Lines sound like Benny Goodman or P-Funk, you are right.

The goal was never to imitate, but assimilate.

I think of it like the Borg in Star Trek; I hunt down musical ideas I like, and then assimilate their essence into my own style and musical vocabulary.

I call it “borging”.

So there you have it, after 9 months of hard labour (couldn’t help the pun) I had six short pieces that had a profound and long-lasting impact on my craft.

Even though they are very smart and inventive pieces, I also find them to be exciting, energetic, evocative and lyrical as well.

Every single piece I have written since Lines has been building on the ideas gathered then, and I can see those ideas being the foundation for the rest of my musical life.

So you see, even though I truly hope you will appreciate the six inventions of Lines as much as they deserve, they will always be the most important pieces I have ever busted my gut to write.

Alain

Listen to Lines

The Sixth: Coming soon.