Having A Name For What You Write

Early music theory study focuses on having names for things. But that’s not the end goal.

This is a major triad. This is a secondary dominant. This is a plagal cadence. This is a modulatory sequence. And on and on.

As I teach jazz theory, I do the same thing: this is AABA 32-bar song form; this is a ii-V sequence, this is the permissible altered extensions of a dominant chord. This is functional jazz harmony.

It is essential work, but one of the side effects is that the student of these ideas becomes focused on writing things that have names. This can leave the music a little flat, a little less creative and personal than it would be otherwise. I know that in my own writing, I’ve worked subsequent to my student days to become more comfortable with writing things that I have trouble naming. If they work, they work.

The challenge is, does the writing work. That comes down to a lot more than just being able to name things, and it comes down to a much deeper understanding of what’s happening. For me, that understanding is almost pre-verbal…when I try to describe certain things, I can’t quite pinpoint their essential quality. For a student musician, that’s a frustrating situation, because they might write indescribable music that doesn’t work, but it’s hard to explain why.

For them, it’s essential to learn to name things, and to write things they can name and describe…not because that’s the end goal, but because it’s a step on the road to deeper writing.