Why is it that the vast majority of modern music is all in the same two time-signatures – 3/4 and 4/4 – and why does anything outside of those two sound so… jarring? How is it that I can seem to entirely change the feel of a particular piece by playing it in a different time signature? Do different time signatures evoke different emotions in the listener?

Call me crazy, but I have always believed it.

There are few theories as to why 4/4 (also referred to as “common time”) (and its “little sister” 2/4) is so prevalent in Western music. In his video series “How Music Works”, Howard Goodall notes:

“The act of walking gave us a feel for a regular, repetitive beat: left-right-left-right. One more, it instilled in Homo sapiens an instinct to divide those beats into multiples of two, like our two feet.”

Personally, when I count a 4/4 rhythm – 1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4,1,… – I notice that, while definitely putting a stress on the “1”, I also tend to put a tiny amount of stress on the “3”, but not as much as the “1” – 1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4,1,….
I suppose this would be why we always feel that any particular song in 3/4, regardless whether or not this song is in the same tempo as a song in 4/4, seems to play “slower”, since as one counts out the rhythm, the minor stress on the “3” is gone, therefore there are more consecutive unstressed notes – 1,2,3,1,2,3,1,… Of course, in keeping with the desire to have two stressed beats like in 4/4, the “second 1” in each two-bar 3/4 pattern tends to have less stress than the “first 1” – 1,2,3,1,2,3,1,2,3,1,2,3,1,… Given how there are now six beats in-between each the main stresses, this can also be counted as 6/4, which I personally find easier to count.

Moving in the opposite direction, we have 5/4, what could possibly be the biggest oddball of the lot. I say “oddball” because any piece in 5/4 seems… alien, unnerving, trying to be something it’s not; that extra quarter-note (or “missing” quarter-note, depending on how you count it) constantly throwing the listener off guard. One example of this is the aptly-titled “5/4” by Gorillaz: The lead guitar riff gives out a strict 1,2,3,4,5,1,2,3,4,5,1,… rhythm.
Similarly, the song “Vicarious” by progressive metal band Tool is one that is also predominately in 5/4 time. But what makes the song even.. “stranger-sounding” is where the stresses to each beat is, giving a 1,2,3,4,5,1,2,3,4,5,1,2,3,4,5,1,… rhythm instead.
These two songs force the 5/4 time signature so strongly and sounds so “off” that it takes a few bars to get accustomed to this fairly unconventional time-signature.

“But,” I hear you cry; “What of that jazz song ‘Take Five‘ by Dave Brubeck? That song is in 5/4 time-signature and that doesn’t sound strange and off-putting at all; in fact, it sound relaxing, jaunty.. happy, even.” And I would agree with that statement, even though it goes against what I said previously. While one could attribute that to there simply being an exception to every rule, I would argue that the reason why it sounds the way it does is thanks to the swing rhythm played using eighth-triplets underneath the quarter notes. Swing rhythms, I have found, tend to remove any sense of negativity that the original song may carry, regardless of whether the song is being played in a major or minor key, or even in a Phrygian or Locrian mode. Simply put: A song simply cannot be taken seriously when being played in a swing rhythm. Think of the saddest, most depressing song you know. Play it in your head. Now play it with a swing rhythm like the one you heard in Take Five. Feels completely different doesn’t it? Apologies if I have forever ruined that particular song for you, by the way.

Of course, taking a song in 5/4 or 5/8 and changing the time-signature completely can also run the risk of removing the overall “feel”. The one example I can give of this is the “Ridley theme” from the Metroid video game series. In every game that this character has starred in, the iconic 5/8 pattern to his theme feels tense and threatening – perhaps it is due to the 5/4 pattern being counted as a “broken 3/4” with the stress being applied on “1” and “4” – 1,2,3,4,5,1,2,3,4,5,1,… – as opposed to Gorillaz’ and Tool’s songs being counted as an “augmented 4/4”. However, in the game Metorid Prime 3: Corruption, his theme is played differently; being played in 4/4 time instead. To me, it sounds… wrong. Perhaps it’s because I am so used to the original 5/4 composition, who knows.

The idea of any odd time-signature being treated as a “broken n+1/4″/”augmented n-1/4″ (where n=the number of beats) could explain why they feel so “unnatural”. As Goodall previously stated: when walking, we count each step as 1,2,1,2,1… anything that may interrupt that flow such a beat being skipped feels like the beat “stumbles” along; it genuinely feels “unnatural”. Thus, it requires a slightly more conscious hearing from the listener, rather than it simply be in the background; the listener has to pay closer attention to it to fully take in the inner workings of the composition. Perhaps songwriters should break out of the conventionality of 4/4 and embrace the unconventional to truly connect to their audience.

 

But with me talking about all this, how is this actually relating to my work?

Well, as you might have gathered from listening to what tracks I have put up in this blog (that is, if they can play; I’ve noticed some browsers are a bit finnicky with embedded SoundCloud links), I appear to have a habit of straying outside of traditional 4/4 with my music For example, In Awaken, a movement initially starts out in 5/4 (being counted as an “augmented 4/4”), before playing in 9/8 (being counted as a “broken 5/4”) – I initially wanted this scene to feel “ominous”, as if the location you were in was unfamiliar (the place you were in is actually located underneath the room you were in previously – it makes sense within the context of the game). Then, when things get tense, the time signature changes: the 10th eighth note in each bar 5/4 is skipped, making the song play in 9/8.

This idea of using a “broken odd-time signature” in a video game isn’t all that new: In the video game Mother 3, the battle theme known as “Strong One” (since the game itself has several battle themes) is played in 15/8 (played in a simple pattern of 3/4, 3/4, 3/8). If that wasn’t confusing enough, there exists an alternate version known as “Strong One (Masked Man)”, where one of the sixteenth notes at the end is skipped, resulting in a near-identical piece, but being played in 29/16 (14.5/8). This is but one of these examples in Mother 3.

 

References:

Goodall, H., 2005. How Music Works: Rhythm. Available at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZJPnAer7EM [Accessed 26 November 2013]
Gorillaz, 2001. 5/4. In: Gorillaz, 5/4 [YouTube], Parlophone. Track Number 02 – Available at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93jsY-YdZ1s [Accessed 27 November 2013]
Tool, 2006. Vicarious. In: 10,000 Days, Vicarious [YouTube], Volcano Entertainment. Track Number 01 – Available at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UUXBCdt5IPg [Accessed 29 November 2013]
Dave Brubeck, 1959. Take Five. In: Time Out, Take Five. [YouTube], Columbia Records. Track Number 03 – Available at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmDDOFXSgAs [Accessed 29 November 2013]
Yamamoto, K., Hamano, M., Tajima., M., 2007. Omega Ridley Battle Theme. In: Metroid Prime 3: Corruption OST. Available at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaGX5XTJQzY [Accessed 29 November 2013].
Sakai, S., 2006. Strong One. In: Mother 3 OST. Available at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OjRCgPFS2Jw [Accessed 01/12/2013]
Sakai, S., 2006. Strong One (Masked Man). In: Mother 3 OST. Available at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DdEF9FlXNno [Accessed 01/12/2013]