The scene: an elegant restaurant.
A waiter crosses the floor, headed your way. His dress is formal, his manner both imperious and humble. As he approaches, you can’t help admiring the grace with which he avoids other diners, other staff, furniture placed apparently where he’s most likely to collide with it. You wonder — you doubt — whether you could ever move with such assurance.
The waiter arrives at your table. He raises an eyebrow, ever so slightly. He bends at the waist. The beverage is yours for the taking; he will not presume to touch it or place it before you.
A pause.
You raise your hand to the serving tray. Your fingers close around the stem of a glass…
What I don’t know about music theory could fit in a stadium, if I was lucky. (Yes, be patient, I’m not really changing the subject.) And as you know if you’ve been around here for even a few weeks, my hearing presents some obstacles when listening to anything at all.
But with music, the obstacles are minor as long as there aren’t any words involved. I can hear the instruments and the notes and rhythms just fine. And every now and then, I think I hear music do something interesting. And then I hear it again, in some other piece. And then I wonder if there’s a name for this something, or if I’m just imagining things…
The latest noticed-it-twice phenomenon I think of as a “serving it up” silence, and I’ve observed it in two pieces so far: “A Home,” by the Dixie Chicks, and “For the Good Times,” the original version of the Kris Kristofferson song. The only way I can think to describe it goes something like this:
- It happens during the transition from regular verse to refrain/chorus — sometimes between two halves of the refrain/chorus.
- It’s sometimes but not always accompanied by a single note, played by a single instrument.
- It’s no more than a very brief, split-second pause.
- And it comes immediately after a musical introduction in which the (instrumental) notes seem to be constructing a platform of sorts on which the refrain will be placed: a serving tray, with refreshments for your consideration.
Now, it’s true that the songs in question are both country-western tunes (ballads of heartbreak, dealt with in different ways but heartbreak nonetheless). Maybe that counts as an important bit of common ground. In any case, I’ve been listening for the serving-it-up silence in other music for a couple months now and (when not distracted by the music itself) haven’t heard it anywhere else.
(You can hear both songs below, preceded by their lyrics. The little red “[ding!]” things mark the points of interest.)
So I put it to you:
- Do you hear it, too? or am I putting something into the music that’s not really there?
- If it’s a real effect, what’s it called?
- Any other examples you can think of?
Prizes may be awarded for the best answers. Or, well, they may not be.
First, the Dixie Chicks and “A Home”:
A Home
(words and music by Maia Sharp and Randy Sharp;
performed by The Dixie Chicks)I mistook the warnings for wisdom
From so-called friends quick to advise
Though your touch was telling me otherwise
Somehow I saw you as a weakness
I thought I had to be strong
Oh but I was too young, I was scared, I was wrong[ding!]Not a night goes by
I don’t dream of wandering
Through the home that might have been
[ding!]I listened to my pride
When my heart cried out for you
Now every day I wake again
In a house that might have been
A homeGuess I did what I did believing
That love is a dangerous thing
Oh but that couldn’t hurt anymore than never knowing[ding!]Not a night goes by
I don’t dream of wandering
Through the home that might have been
[ding!]I listened to my pride
When my heart cried out for you
Now every day I wake again
In a house that might have been
A home
A homeFour walls, a roof, a door, some windows
Just a place to run when my working day is through
They say home is where the heart is
If the exception proves the rule I guess that’s true[ding!]Not a night goes by
I don’t dream of wandering
Through the home that might have been
[ding!]I listened to my pride
When my heart cried out for you
Now every day I wake again
In a house that might have been
A home
A home
…And second, Kris Kristofferson’s “For the Good Times”:
For the Good Times
(words, music, and performance by Kris Kristofferson)Don’t look so sad — I know it’s over.
But life goes on, and this old world will keep on turning.
Let’s just be glad we had some time to spend together;
There’s no need to watch the bridges that we’re burning.[ding!]Lay your head upon my pillow.
Hold your warm and tender body close to mine.
Hear the whisper of the raindrops
Blowin’ soft against the window,
And make believe you love me one more time —
For the good times.I’ll get along; you’ll find another.
And I’ll be here if you should find you ever need me.
Don’t say a word about tomorrow or forever;
There’ll be time enough for sadness when you leave me.[ding!]Lay your head upon my pillow.
Hold your warm and tender body close to mine.
Hear the whisper of the raindrops
Blowin’ soft against the window,
And make believe you love me one more time —
For the good times.
marta says
I love music but am terrible at talking about it or understanding it. Now you’ve made me want to go check a few songs for the moment and see if I understand what you’re trying to point out.
John says
@marta – Thanks. Love to know if you come up with any others. Er, this assumes that I actually made it clear what to look for.
marta says
I’m too intimidated and never sure what I’m listening for. I thought of the song Measuring Cups by Andrew Bird, but then I thought maybe not. If something else occurs to me, I’ll let you know.
Oh, and the recaptcha today–twice charming
Sarah says
When I was a singer back in high school (Chamber Singers, Jazz Ensemble, Folk, etc) we called that note the penultimate note, though I doubt that’s an official term. I don’t hear a specific note being played in the silence you mention in these two songs, but the intention is to play or sing the penultimate note in such a way that there is a quality of sustained tension that carries the listener over the silence, or shift, and into the next part of the song, or in these two cases, the chorus. This effect is often especially noticable in country music, which likes to signal its intention that “here comes the chorus!” hence the common effect of a big chord strum. It’s a very hard thing to teach, or quantify- it has more to do with knowing eactly how to maintain a connection through such a shift, by somehow moving toward the next note with your whole being. Think of a trapeze artist- they let go of one bar to catch the next, but if they do it with enough grace, movement and intention, you hardly notice they ever let go of one to grab the other, but you do know that “here is something new”. If watcher does notice long enough to actually begin to wonder or worry if the connection will be made, then you’ve broken the spell of seamless movement.
John says
@Sarah – Dang — I should’ve just asked you! :) That was WAY more coherent than my own description of the effect, and yeah, that seems to be it.
(Did do a Google search on the phrase “penultimate note” — haven’t seen any country-music references yet, mostly classical, but looks like it might be the official name after all.)
Until I moved here to the Deep South in the 1990s, I had heard very little country music unless it had also crossed over to pop/Top 40 radio. Even thereafter, though, it’s only been in the last few years that I’ve really listened-listened, if you know what I mean.
To embarrass myself further, I’ll say that there’s “a Beethoven symphony” (I want to say the 1st) which has a movement consisting of a long series of musical teases, the intensity of which mounts to the point that it almost becomes impossible NOT to realize you’re being kept in suspense. The payoff, when it finally arrives, is very welcome.
Sarah says
Not sure which one you mean because so many of Beethoven’s pieces are structured like that- which is why people usually either love or loathe him, depending on how they react to that suspense. I’ve always been a Bach lover myself- I’ve had enough tension for a lifetime, which, unfortunately, meant I struggled with allowing the tension to build in my novel…
John says
@marta – I’d never heard of Andrew Bird (hmm, and never saw a purple cow…) and had never heard “Measuring Cups,” either. So I downloaded the song from Amazon and think yeah, you might be right. There’s no real refrain in the song, but there are clear breaks between each verse and the next, and the start of a verse is signaled by a soft drumbeat or strum, and once even by Bird’s voice sort of scatting between verses.
(On another note, the phrase “Grimm and Gorey” is a brilliant juxtaposition.)
Very nice reCaptcha. Mine is less so: skill forgets. Something else to worry about. :)
John says
@Sarah – The two B’s definitely offer different rewards. (That Alex, in A Clockwork Orange — book or movie — favors “a little of the old Ludwig van” was no surprise. “A little of the old Johannes Sebastian” would make no sense at all for that character.)
It always does surprise me to learn that Bach is favored by a spiritual soul, and Beethoven by an intellectual. Bach seems to me the essence of mathematical precision; Beethoven, of emotion run riot. Now that I think about it, maybe that’s the key to not being surprised…
marta says
Andrew Bird is good at those kinds of juxtapositions.