"Can I hear your A flat?"
Erin turns around to face me and leans into the vibraphone. I play a little roll on my highest Ab. A couple short flute tones, subtle facial contortions, and a twist of the headjoint.
"Thanks."
That's right. Look at me. I've got the answers.
I'm a drummer, and a percussionist. This means I don't have to worry about playing "in tune." That’s for the other musicians. Right?
It’s weird to get a reflexive ego-boost from being consulted on pitch by a wind player, because I know perfectly well I have done absolutely nothing to deserve it. I don't actually know anything about how to be in tune. That’s for the other musicians, right?
It's my instrument (today, a vibraphone), that has the answers, not me.
I didn't even tune this thing. It comes this way straight from the factory: carved in metal, branded A=442 — that's a “reference pitch.” But it’s obviously not there for me to reference.
It’s for the other musicians.
Right?
Today is the first in an open-ended series of inquiries into pitch and intonation through the unconventional lens of a percussionist. This isn’t meant to be textbook-y or to even really “teach” anything — I just want to tell stories about the discoveries I made that blew my mind, long after my conventional music education.
Who you callin’ unpitched?
The subject of intonation is deep and beautiful and expansive, and for the first twenty years of my musical life, I assumed it was none of my business. After all, I’m a “drummer.” I play “rhythms,” and my instruments are “unpitched,” right?
Even when I call myself “percussionist” and cosplay with “pitched percussion” instruments like the vibraphone, I’m really still just a drummer, drumming — on a whole bunch of little metal or wood bars that someone else pre-tuned for me. Right?
Historically, these are my thoughts as I lie on my back in my favorite place: stretched out under the marimba with my hoodie pulled up over my eyes. It’s 10:04 AM, and Alarm Will Sound is starting a long rehearsal day with an ensemble warm-up — ten to fifteen minutes of tuning exercises meant as quasi-meditation that gets everyone listening and eases us gradually into the day. It’s really nice to listen to, and I get fifteen extra minutes to chill before I start work! Tuning exercises don’t apply to me, right? They also don’t apply to pianist John, who’s reading a book, or percussionist Matt, who’s over there nervously doing… something.
And then one day, 😳 an under-the-marimba philosophical crisis:
Do I have pitch?
I decided yes.
Pitch is just a number
In 2013, a drummer named Tom Grosset competed in a Guiness Book of World Records event in Nashville, TN that aimed to identify the "world's fastest drummer." In one minute, he hit a Remo practice pad attached to a Drumometer™ with sticks 1,208 times. I'm real ambivalent about the relevance of a "how fast can you…" challenge in music, but I’m not judging: I have to admit that I admire the dedication? Like video game speedrunning and rubix cube speedsolving, it's always fun to turn our hobbies into track & field events where records can be set and broken.
There's a video of this on YouTube, but I'd prefer you don't see it. I just want you to hear it. This is what it sounded like:
Strange sound. Hummingbird wings? Chattering teeth? The world’s gentlest jackhammer? Is this a rhythm?
What is this sound, actually?
Depends on how you measure it, and maybe which newspaper you’re reporting for.
Hot takes
Traditional media really loved this story — Grosset was a fan-favorite morning talk show guest, and there were many printed news reports. For example, The Sunday Times described him as having achieved "1,208 beats in one minute." That scale of measurement would imply that his hands are akin to a metronome set to a very fast tempo: 1,208 BPM.
Metronome - 1,208 BPM
The Telegraph, on the other hand, called it “over 20 beats per second." Strange, that implies a very fast rhythm, played at a relatively slow tempo:
Metronome - 60 BPM
Over here at Music and Math and Feelings, the editorial staff would like to offer a third perspective: there's another term for beats per second — "Hertz." And when we use that word, we're talking about tone. In this case, a very low tone: 20 Hz — and that tone has a name: it’s an E01:
This is what that tone sounds like (you’ll likely need headphones for this).
That world record setting vibration is a demonstration of how a single frequency can function simultaneously as a rhythm and a tone — a beautiful grey area between two human modes of perception.
But is it a pitch? And if so, can it be tuned?
Textbook: How To Write For PERCUSSION
When it comes to teaching composers how to write for percussion, Samuel Z Solomon wrote the book. Quite controversially, he titled it How To Write For PERCUSSION.
I have been recommending this book for years, not just to composers, but also to percussionists, and especially percussionists who work with composers. I fall into all three categories, and this book taught me as much about myself as it did about the pitch clarity of boobams and Mahler hammers2.
Bernie agrees, and helps me get the word out:
Back in 2015 I had the honor of being asked by Sam to contribute to this project as an editor. Many lively discussions followed, but none more extensive and passionate than for several early pages on "the problem of pitch." Question: are there "pitched" and "unpitched" instruments? As a percussionist, should I care about intonation?… do I even "tune?"
Since we had those conversations, my entire musical world has been transformed by my exploration of a) the harmonic series, and b) just intonation — two topics never mentioned in my formal music education. I’ve already tickled the wire in two previous posts to see if I can catch anyone talking:
These articles oscillate between deep thoughts and satirical entertainment, and when I wrote them I had like nine subscribers so I’m sharing them again. They represent the outgrowth of my “post-Sam” journey.
This is the message I'm sharing today: every percussionist, drummer, composer, theorist, rock critic, or curious listener can get more out of music through an inquiry into the world of intonation. But let's start with Sam's own words, endorsed by the percussionist newsroom of Music and Math and Feelings:
Many of the instruments in the percussion family are commonly referred to as "unpitched." This is clearly inaccurate; all sound comprises pitches, even a stomp on the floor.
- How To Write For PERCUSSION, Samuel Z. Solomon
Just look at all those pitches!
Next week, on Episode #2: Phasers set to “stun,” phasers set to “massage” — waveforms, simple tones, boom-boom cars, the range of human hearing, and Hermann von Helmholtz fan-fic.
Thanks so much for watching/listening.
🔉👋 Hey, I’m Chris. I write music, and play percussion in contemporary chamber-band Alarm Will Sound. My weekly newsletter Music and Math and Feelings explores a broad range of musical topics: from just intonation to electronic music to drum corps to artist mental health.
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In an equally tempered scale with reference pitch of A=440, 20 Hz would actually be a slightly flat E0. But in a world of infinite possible pitches and various naming strategies, I’m taking the liberty of rounding it off.
Boobams: "somewhat clear”
Mahler hammer: "unclear"