The Sound and the Theory: Signifying Something

Today I begin sharing The Sound and the Theory: Signifying Something, my textbook on popular music. We’re opening with Chapter One, “Pop Music, Huh?”

Read Chapter One →

This is the end of a long road and the beginning of a new one. Both are exciting, and both are fulfilling in ways I’m still working out.

What brought me here was a years-long search for a textbook that could treat popular music in its own voice and its own domain, rather than as an excuse to look at it through the wrong lens. I found little bits here and little bits there. What I never found was a book that took the whole subject seriously, in its own right. So the search became the book.

I have taught traditional theory for many years — harmony, counterpoint, analysis — and I’ve spent just as many years playing popular music and jazz as a bass player, guitarist, keyboard player and occasional vocalist. As a musician I understood this music intuitively. It was only when I started teaching it that I discovered how much of that understanding had never been put into words, and how badly the words I’d been trained with fit.

I love most of this music because I know it. I grew up with it, I’ve studied it, and I’ve played it. The book explores the different ways we can understand and classify popular music — and now I get to share that exploration with you.

What the book believes

I don’t reject any music theory. I do object to its application sometimes, when it turns out to be the right tool for the wrong job. If you come from a formal background, it’s easy to project classical ideas onto popular music. Some of those ideas are great. Others really miss the mark. The Sound and the Theory tries to tell the difference.

That means treating the music in its own context, and speaking to the reader as an equal — not from above or below, but across the table, as a dialogue. Whatever else the book is, it is that.

Who this is for

I’m inviting everyone who is curious.

It’s meant for self-taught musicians who don’t know much theory. It’s also for formally trained musicians who haven’t yet found the right lens for popular music. Both have something to bring to the conversation. And if you simply love listening and want to understand a little more of what you hear, you’re welcome here too.

How it works

The chapters are free to read on The Common Tone website. Beginning today with Chapter One, a new chapter goes up every week, along with a companion essay — what’s in the chapter, what to listen for, and the occasional argument I couldn’t fit in the book.

A word about the name on the door. The Common Tone is the larger project this book lives inside — a website with interactive pages, drills, and essays, all built around the same idea: however different two musical phenomena may be, there is always a connection. The book is the centre of it, and I’ll say more about the rest in a post of its own. For now, the book is what’s opening its doors.

One chapter at a time, this becomes a place to explore the music together. Bring your questions, your disagreements, and the songs you think I’ve missed.

To the first readers

If you’re here at the beginning, thank you. A book without readers is a very long note-to-self.

I promise that whatever you find in The Sound and the Theory is genuine, honest, and the result of years of study. That’s not to say it has no mistakes, or that I’ve learned everything. The moment I finished the rough draft I could already see what needed redoing, and what belongs in a second edition. There is still plenty to learn, and I’d rather learn it in your company.

Consider yourself invited. Come and learn with me.

Read Chapter One →