Syncopation

In addition to its many more useful aspects, the trade-only gear fest known as the NAMM show is an incredible source of comedy. Discounting the ill-advised haircuts, waning shred idols, leathery booth babes, and similar music-industry flotsam, most of my private chuckling comes from the wacky gear populating the convention center’s far-flung corners, like the automated one-robot band I saw this year. Using primitive motorized arms, this unwieldy rack of erector-set-looking confusion played drums, piano, and percussion simultaneously, bleating out an appropriately soulless “blues” while its bleary-eyed booth minders vexingly stared at onlookers, most of whom stared back, as if watching a slow-motion car accident. I admit, I couldn’t help myself. It was entertainingly terrible, utterly devoid of even the most tenuous connection to groove (a particularly stark judgment given the noise-induced groove vacuum that is the show floor).

That bit of ear pollution got me thinking. Why did it suck? What did it lack? Unpredictability and creativity. Humanity, basically. Good music dances on the border of the predictable and the surprising. Great musicians know how to flirt with our ears, tickling our lust for newness by seducing us with the familiar. As bass players, we wield tremendous power in this regard. We can throw curveballs in countless directions, and the best of us know when they’ll be most successful.

Syncopation is among the most powerful of musical surprises. It works precisely because music is generally predictable. Most Western music puts an emphasis on certain beats in a measure. In 4/4 meter, the strong beats are one and three. This consistency helps the listener perceive structure in a song; it sets up the ear for the next musical moment. But music that never strays from this emphasis is extraordinarily dull. Syncopation is the practice of putting emphasis on a weak beat, or not playing anything on the strong beats at all. Syncopation involves accenting that which usually goes unaccented.

Certain musical styles embrace syncopation more than others. In fact, funk, jazz, R&B, blues, and other head-bobbing styles rely on it a great deal. But you can slip sly syncopation into any bass line, no matter the genre. Consider the line in Ex. 1: Each note falls exactly on a beat, the exception being the eighth-notes in beat three of each bar. Play this line. Not bad, but quite predictable. Now check out Ex. 2. While it contains the same notes, some now fall into rhythmic cracks.

As Ex. 2 demonstrates, it’s possible to syncopate an otherwise straightforward line, but it does alter the rhythm and sound of a musical phrase. For this reason, a judicious touch is essential. Remember, your top priority as a bass player is to be supportive, fusing the rhythm to the harmony in a tasteful way. Until you become comfortable with syncopation, dole it out subtly, perhaps in a fill or turnaround to another section of a song. Once it’s firmly established in your vocabulary, it will quickly become a go-to color in your bass palette, not to mention a sure sign of the dominance of man over machine.

Thank you to Jonathan Herrera