A Tale of Quarantined Kids

Oh, sure, they are cute and well-behaved for a few moments when mom and dad are taking photos. But what if you locked them in the house with their parents and kept them there for months on end. What do you suppose would happen then?

Well, this:

Meet The Quarantine Kids: Cash (eight years old, on the keyboards), Becket (seven, on drums), Bellamy (five, dancer, backup singer, and penny whistle, when she remembers), and patriarch Colt Clark on guitar. Aubree, the mother and stage director, is behind the camera.

Since the Covid shutdowns started, the Clark family have produced an astounding number of videos, over 200 the last time I counted. At first they were producing a video a day, though this began to slow down as outdoor venues began to re-open up and father Colt, a professional musician, could get back to work from time to time.

The family got started making these videos for a lot of reasons – as a way to keep the kids occupied, to give Clark an excuse to practice (even professional musicians spend a lot of time practicing), and to stay in touch with grandparents and other family.

They originally posted the videos to social media so Audrey’s family could see them. That’s why Bellamy waves goodbye at the end of the video – she’s saying goodbye to her grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

I don’t know if you’d say the videos went viral, but they got a lot of views on social media, so Audrey started a YouTube channel too. Between YouTube and social media, they have had tens of millions of views, in ways you wouldn’t necessarily expect. For example, on Wednesdays they get a lot of views from Argentina. Wednesday is Beatles Day for The Quarantine Kids. Apparently there are a lot of Beatles fans in Argentina. Who knew?

Most of the Clark family music is rock and roll. The production values are really quite good for a bunch of kids learning and producing this quantity of music. It’s interesting, too, how they adapt the music to the available instruments and the skills of the kids. Paul Simon’s “You Can Call Me Al” is a good example of that adaptation.

The song comes from Paul Simon’s excellent “Graceland” album, released almost exactly 35 years ago, in August 1986. “Graceland” is one of the best albums produced by a man who is clearly one of the best songwriters ever to come from the United States. It’s great music. The entire album was heavily influenced by local musical styles from South Africa.

In fact, Paul Simon recorded songs by his South African back up singers, Ladysmith Black Mambazo, and put them on the album, making world-famous this previously obscure “a capella” (that is, without instrumental accompaniment) group who started out singing for their church.

A careful listen to most of the music on “Graceland” shows that South African musicians tend to use the bass guitar differently than most British and American rock and roll bands.

The conventional rock and roll band uses a the bass guitar to thump out the lower notes of the song in a way that is sometimes repetitive. The South African musicians tend to use the bass guitar to build the melody. (One thing that contributed to the distinctive sound of that seminal rock and roll band, The Beatles, is that their bass guitar player, Paul McCartney, developed and sometimes used a similar style of using a bass guitar to define the melody.)

The challenge for the Quarantine Kids is that they didn’t use a bass guitar on this song. They also didn’t use six trumpets and a couple of trombones. On the original Paul Simon recording, the simple one- and two-finger part that Cash plays on the keyboard in this video was played by bunch of horns — six trumpets, two trombones, and a saxophone, or some such thing. Still, despite the simplicity of the production, or perhaps because of it, these kids and their father did a very creditable job of arranging and playing this song.

This suggests another thing that’s worth thinking about: sometimes less is more. When we compare videos of the Quarantine Kids with Paul Simon live, the Quarantine Kids seem to me to be a lot more fun and interesting. The Paul Simon production is grand music, but it is so complex, with so many musicians and so much going on, that I don’t think it works as well in a video. Musically it’s better, but it isn’t as fun or interesting.

One final note, about the lyrics: Some time before writing “You can call me Al,” Paul Simon attended a dinner party, where somebody introduced him and his wife as “Al and Betty.” Well, Paul Simon’s name isn’t Al, and his wife’s name isn’t Betty. So Paul Simon made a joke out of it and included it in the lyrics of his song, “I can call you Betty, and Betty when you call me you can call me Al.” It’s not such a bunch of nonsense as it seems at first.

I’ll leave you with three homework assignments:

1) Check out Paul Simon’s “Graceland” album. It’s one of those rare albums that doesn’t have a bad song on it;

2) Check out Ladysmith Black Mambazo for an outstanding a capella group from South Africa;

3) Check out the Quarantine Kids’ YouTube channel. There’s a huge selection of music. With so many performances you’re bound to find some things you like, and it’s great fun.

Copyright 2021 by Toni Pfau. All rights reserved.

Contact Toni Pfau at:
503-358-5359
13530 N.W. Cornell Road
Portland, OR 97229
Toni.L.Pfau@gmail.com

A Little Bach for Halloween

Here’s some organ music that is often associated with spooky stories, scary movies, and other such things. It’s one of my favorites, and a fun video for Halloween.

This piece was written by Johann Sebastion Bach, who was quite the organ player. He wrote it in the early 1700s, but nobody knows exactly when — probably between about 1705 and 1720 (He lived from 1685 to 1750).

When I was in school one of my professors said Bach had written it as a Christmas song for his children. Today this seems really odd considering its current association with Halloween. Times do change!

This video includes just the “Toccata” section at the beginning of a longer piece called “Toccata and Fugue in D-minor.” That name will require at least a partial explanation, which I’ll get to.

One thing that’s interesting about this piece is that, if you listen carefully, you can hear the beginnings of Jazz, Blues, and Rock and Roll in some of Bach’s more unusual combination of notes (what we call “chords”). Maybe if Bach had lived in a different time he would have been a Blues man or a Rock and Roller. Keep reading to find out why.

So what does that name mean?

First, toccata comes from the Italian toccare, meaning “to touch.” Being derived from Italian, toccota is pronounced pretty much the way it’s spelled: toe-COT-ah.

When we see tocatta attached to a musical score, it’s intended to tell us that the piece will be fast moving and require a deft touch on the keyboard. In other words, it’s going to be fairly hard to play. If you are just starting with keyboards, this piece is not a good place to start.

I would explain the “fugue” part (pronounced like “few” with a “g” on the end: fewg) except it would go way too far into music theory. Since this video only includes the first part of the piece, the toccata, not the fugue, I’ll take the easy way out. I’ll just say that the fugue involves a certain style or way of writing and playing the music and leave it at that.

The “D-minor” part tells us two things.

First, it tells us that the music is going to be centered around the note D, rather than some other lower note (C, for example) or a higher note (E, for example).

If did we play this music centered around another note (i.e., in another key), it would sound essentially the same, just a bit higher or lower than the way it’s played here. Unless we got carried away with the key change, very few people would notice the difference.

That isn’t to say that the key in which a song is played doesn’t matter. It makes a big difference when you have several musicians playing together. If several musicians are playing together, and one musician tries to play the song in D while another tries to play the song in E, it’s going to sound really strange. Everybody has to play in the same key.

That explains the “D” part. What about the second part, the “minor” part?

Well, there are lots of ways to play several other notes alongside D and make them sound good together. There is one set of notes we can play together that will make D sound nice, but sad, like funeral music. That’s called a minor chord, in this case, D-minor.

Of course, if we play D-minor fast enough – toccata, for example – everybody will forget that D-minor is sad, and and the song will be happy. You’d be surprised how many fast, upbeat songs are written in sad, minor keys.

So there we have the name: Toccata and Fugue in D-minor.

I suggested earlier that Bach might have been, at heart, a Blues man, or a Rock and Roller. We can tell that from the way he assembled groups of notes, all played at the same time, into what we call “chords.”

Some chords sound just fine by themselves. Some chords sound a little weird by themselves, but sound really good when they serve as transitions between other chords. Having that right transition is really important.

This piece opens with a flourish of notes, followed by another, similar flourish an octave lower, followed again by another similar flourish another octave lower.

Then the organist steps on the pedal to create a chord, and adds strokes on the keyboard to create a rather strange sounding chord. This particular chord is called a “diminished seventh” chord.

That diminished seventh chord leaves the listener hanging, feeling a bit unsettled, until Bach changes that combination of notes slightly and it becomes the main D minor chord around which the song was composed. Then, even though that diminished seventh chord has resolved to a sad D-minor chord, we are all relieved and feel happy.

It’s probably odd chords like this diminished seventh that makes this piece seem so appropriate for Halloween. These days, Halloween is really a celebration for children, and a lot of children are sort of creeped out by these odd chords. As they get older kids tend to take more interest in these unusual chords.

After Bach died, almost nobody had any interest in these unusual combinations of notes. Almost nobody wrote music like that. Not Mozart. Not Beethoven. Not Tchaikovsky. Nobody. For 150 years.

Then, African-American musicians, largely self-taught, redeveloped these odd chord combinations on their own. Their music came to be called “The Blues.”

By the early 1900s those blues combinations were adopted by Jazz musicians who, again, were predominantly African American. Two decades later that style of music had become so popular that the 1920s were known as “The Jazz Age.” By the 1940s the blues combinations were added to the more driving beat from jazz to create Rhythm and Blues, or “R&B.”

Later still, in the late 1950s and early 1960s, R&B was picked up and developed in another direction by white rock and roll musicians like the Beatles and the Rolling Stones.

In fact, Rock and Roll musicians somewhat inadvertently contributed to the destruction of segregation in the USA.

Having learned from black musicians, segregation seemed ridiculous to musicians like Elvis Presley and the Beatles. These prominent musicians simply refused to play for segregated audiences. If concert promoters wanted to make money and music fans wanted to hear the music live, they had stand up to the authorities who tried to enforce segregation. And they did. All for a handful of notes like a diminished seventh followed by a D-minor.

In any case, it’s a pretty good bet that Bach would have gotten a kick out of Rock and Roll, though some of the lyrics would have been too risque for him (Bach mostly wrote religious music).

If you don’t know what to listen for, these Bach/blues chord combinations are hard to identify. However, if you watch YouTube videos of the Beatles singing their own songs live, you can often see how the music goes together, so it becomes clearer how their unusual chord combinations pop up in the guitar parts and, more prominently, in their harmonies.

The Beatles, Ticket to Ride, Live, 1965

For example, in this video, as John Lennon is singing the lead, toward the end of the verse Paul McCartney will walk up to the microphone and cut in with interesting and untraditional harmonies. The harmonies will often form part of an unusual chord like a sixth, a seventh, a suspended chord, or a diminished (or even a diminished seventh), then resolve to more conventional major chord. That’s fairly characteristic of the Beatles.

Having seen the Beatles in action, if you now go back to the Tocatta and Fugue, you may be able to hear the same sorts of unusual note combinations. This ability to follow in the footsteps of Bach is one thing that made the Beatles such stand out composers in their day.

Now that we have traveled from Bach to the Beatles in around 1,000 words, be safe, enjoy your Halloween, and don’t eat too much candy.

Copyright 2019 by Toni Pfau. All rights reserved.

Contact Toni Pfau at:
503-358-5359
13530 N.W. Cornell Road
Portland, OR 97229
Toni.L.Pfau@gmail.com

A Little Bit About Three Kids and a Twelve-String Guitar

About a year ago I wrote about the differences between Acoustic, Classical, and electric guitars. Since then people have asked about twelve-string guitars, which, as you might guess from the name, have twice as many strings as the more conventional six-string guitars. “Why do they have so many strings, and how can you play that many strings?” people ask.

Answering the second question first makes all those strings easier to understand.

The obvious difference from the conventional six-string guitar is that the twelve-string has an addition string alongside each of the conventional strings. When we play a twelve-string, instead of pressing down (called “fretting”) one string to make a note, we press down, or fret, two.

Fretting two strings at once means we can play the twelve string pretty much the same way we play a six string guitar. If you have mastered a conventional six string guitar, you can often pick up a twelve string and play it reasonably well. The neck will be much wider, so it will feel odd, but you can do it. (The wider neck, and having to press down all those extra strings, means the twelve usually isn’t a good choice for younger or less experienced players).

The reason for all those extra strings lies in how the extra strings are tuned. They are tuned to give a brighter, higher-pitched sound to the guitar.

The four extra strings next to the lower-pitch strings (the upper strings on the guitar — I know, it’s confusing….) are tuned an octave higher than the original strings. The last two extra strings are tuned in unison with the two highest-pitch original strings.

The additional strings create additional “voices,” if you will, rather like having a choir sing a song rather than just one singer. In a sense, the twelve-string guitar creates its own depth and harmony.

Most of the extra voices are higher pitched that their six-string counterparts. That means the twelve-string has an unusually high, bright sound. This doesn’t work in all music, just as choirs don’t work in all music, but it’s often used to add a cheery sound to a song.

Here’s a song many people will recognize. It was composed by Roger Hodgson (pronounced “HODGE-son” like “hodge-podge”) specifically for the twelve-string, and originally recorded by his band, Supertramp.

Like most recordings of twelve-strings, it purposely emphasizes the bright sound of the guitar, making it sound much brighter and more jangley than it otherwise might. But then, that’s what makes the song distinctive.

(By the way, the YouTube video that Roger Hodgson said somebody sent him is here. It’s worth a listen. Along with conventional instruments, they use some toy instruments, and the results are really quite good.)

I find it instructive that, at the end of the song, Roger Hodgson pushes his young backup singers to the front to take a bow. He has sold tens of millions of records and CDs, something that many people would let go to their heads. It’s encouraging to see a prominent and successful person modeling such modest behavior.

But back to our story of twelve-string guitars…

Of course you can’t make a twelve-string by simply adding more strings. For one thing, there isn’t room. That’s why the neck is so much wider.

And of course we need some way to tune all those added strings, so we need more tuning machines and someplace to put them. That’s why the headstock covers so much more real estate on a twelve.

All acoustic guitars have an array of stiffeners on the inside of the guitar. The tension from all the additional strings on a twelve would overwhelm normal stiffeners, so a twelve must be built much more strongly.

The challenge is in making the twelve-string guitar body stronger without making it too stiff. The added strength, if done poorly, would deaden the sound of the guitar, so twelves are more expensive and difficult to build well.

Given the size of the headstock, it’s easy to miss that the body of a twelve string is always quite large, what is called in the business a “dreadnought” size (prounounced “dread”, like “bread”, and nought, like “not”: “DREAD-not”).

Guitar builders (called luthiers) make the guitar body so big because all those relatively high-pitch strings naturally give the guitar a bright, high sound. The large body counteracts this by naturally emphasizing the lower notes, giving the guitar a more balanced sound.

Given the efforts of luthiers to strengthen the bass sound of twelve-strings, it’s interesting to note that Roger Hodgson plays much of this song with his left thumb over the top of the fretboard. This mutes the lower notes, and emphasizes the high notes that are such a trademark of this song.

So if you ever have a chance to play a twelve-string, be prepared to do at least twice as much tuning, but try it out. They are interesting guitars. And, if you give a little bit of practice, you can play a song that almost everybody recognizes.

Copyright 2019 by Toni Pfau. All rights reserved.

Contact Toni Pfau at:
503-358-5359
13530 N.W. Cornell Road
Portland, OR 97229
Toni.L.Pfau@gmail.com