Fandom High School

“So we got jazz, then we got rock and roll, and then the universe thought… you know what we need? Glitter,” Atton said.

He didn’t sound impressed. ( But that shouldn't really be a surprise, considering. )

"Welcome back," Lana said. "Glad to see you're all improved." This week was much better than last. "Today we'll resume with discussing more modern music. In the mid-to-late nineteenth century, blues grew out of black music from the southern United States, and later from northern cities like Chicago. Artists like Leadbelly are typical of this style. It could merit an entire class on its own, but we're limited here; I encourage you to look it up yourself. A little later in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, ragtime developed, also predominantly from black artists; Scott Joplin's music is one of the more notable types."

Atton let out a slow huff. "By 'black people in the southern United States'," he said, "We mean enslaved people and their descendants." Beat. "But please continue."

"It should be noted that both of these types of music were peculiarly American," Lana said. "Eventually, a new American type of music developed with roots in both of them - jazz." Not jizz; that was entirely different. "It started in New Orleans, Louisiana; there are many subtypes of jazz, and several involve quite a bit of improvisation, so it can at times be difficult to define. But it moved the primary importance from the composer to the performer, prioritizing how things were played, rather than how they were written."

Atton nodded along, leaning back against the desk. "So what you saw a lot of in the early days were things like call and response, a legacy of blues," he said. "One musician plays something, the other reacts. As jazz developed, this became more elaborate, with musicians coming up with entire melodies on the spot. Of course, as the music got more popular, you also saw more forms of jazz where there was a composition, and then a spot for a soloist to go to town."

"When the government declared alcohol was illegal, underground clubs flourished," Lana continued, "with bands in them often playing jazz and fueling its popularity. Duke Ellington was one influential performer and composer, writing and collaborating on over a thousand pieces, many of which are still regarded as classics. Another popular performer was Ella Fitzgerald, known as the 'Queen of Jazz'. She was renowned and popular on her own, and also collaborated quite a bit with another prominent musician, Louis Armstrong.

"Jazz was one of the most popular forms of music for years, but then unfortunately there was a war, and between musicians being conscripted and the materials used for recordings being needed for martial purposes, it suffered a bit of a drawback. It drifted largely in two different directions - academic, less accessible music, and popular music with more diversified interests that became less...well, less 'jazzy', I suppose."

Atton pushed away from the desk. "These days, a lot of people look at jazz as a kind of old, classical art in its own way, deeply improvisational and experimental," he said. "In what originally came to be known as 'bebop', notes didn't have to go well together for it to work as jazz, creating an alienating effect called disonance. The tempos could go fast and strange, and chord progressions were combined and complicated. The traditions of classical music were no longer sacred. Eventually, it led to the birth of free jazz, which loosened up the rules even further."

He shrugged. "It's not for everyone, and other styles of jazz persist to this day," he said. "Meanwhile, the interest of the masses moved away to something a little rougher but more conventional. But we'll talk about those guys next week."

He tapped the music player. "Today, we're going to listen to some jazz standards," he said. "We're going to try to play 'Summertime' together, and I want everyone to try some improv. All right?"

“So, we’ve been spending a lot of time talking about folk music,” Atton said. He was at the front of the class, wearing his nice new leather gloves, looking like he hadn’t been mysteriously absent last week. Go figure. “But around the 1400s, Earthers got a little more pretentious about it. During the period known as the Renaissance, music got more complex. More instruments, more melodies at the same time, actual basslines. People started figuring out how to write all of this stuff down properly, too, so pieces could be played the same way everywhere else.”

He waved towards the instruments corner. It was absolutely packed with stuff. “A lot of the musical instruments we use on Earth today were more or less invented or refined in this period. People got weirder and more complicated with it. The style that resulted would come to be known as ‘classical music’, also known as pretentious stuff for stuffy people who can’t make it through a rock concert.”

What? What.

“The Renaissance ended in the 1600s, and gave way to Baroque, during which the modern idea of the musical ‘key’ was introduced. A key is basically a series of notes and pitches, named after whatever the first note in line is. We kind of touched on that a little during the chords lesson,” Atton said, waving a hand. “Baroque composers like Bach and Vivaldi made a name for themselves in this period, and they’re still frequently referenced today.”

He smacked the music player. “You might know this one. Four Seasons.”

"As the music started to be increasingly complex and multilayered, some composers started wanting to pare things down. They also worked toward much more restrictive notations, even to volume markers and how things should be played. It became much more structured. This led to what is properly called Classical music, because that's what the period in time was called." Honestly, Atton. "This is when we get composers like Beethoven." This is also when you get music named imaginative things like 'Piano Sonata No. 11 in A major'. Because apparently that's all you need to know about it." Classical composers were weird. What could you say?

"Eventually, they start to loosen up a bit more, and become more concerned with grand themes, myths and legends, and sweeping emotions, and you get the Romantic era," Lana continued. "Also a lot of them were very nationalistic and patriotic, so you have to deal with that. Night on Bald Mountain by Mussorgsky is a good example of this style."

“If you’re wondering why we’re steamrolling through this, well, we’d need a whole semester to teach you guys the ins and outs of this particular brand of music,” said Atton, who had ignored any and all ‘honestly’s his co-teacher had sent his way, thank you. “But to give you more of a taste, we have a whole pack of info sheets of different composers here. Pick one, find something cool they made musically, and tell us about it next week.” He rolled his shoulders. (They still stung a little.) “The Romantic period was followed by the Modernist period, which dovetails right into what we call contemporary music. We’ll pick up on that actually interesting topic in a week or two. For now…”

He waved a hand.

“It’s time to practice some classical classic, I guess.”

Please don't all choose "Ride of the Valkyries".

Atton had somehow found himself a small stool, and he was sitting on it in front of the class. This was his topic, so he figured he’d take a little of the pressure off of Lana. For now, anyway.

“Singing,” he said, “Tends to be something people think they either have a talent for, or they don’t. That’s poodoo. Even I’ve had to grudgingly admit that technique and soft squishy ‘reach within yourself’ kind of crap has got something to do with doing it well.”

He tapped his chair with both hands. “Now there’s not just one way to sing,” he said. “Most music genres, in fact, have their own quirks, whether we’re talking about loud, dramatic operatic singing, loud, dramatic metal grunting, or… well, all of the soft stuff in between. We don’t have the time to focus on teaching you the intricacies of any of them, but we do have the time to get you started on the basics. Which mostly means breathing.”

He pushed up out of his chair. “Breathing and singing are linked. I mean, the noise we make when we open our mouths is basically our body manipulating our breath on the way out, right? When we sing, we mostly use our diaphragm, a muscle right underneath our lungs.” He patted it over his chest. “It, not our lungs, is really the key to breath control,” he said. “As I understand it, anyway.”

He glanced at the class.

“I want you all to stand up and put your hands right here.” He patted his chest again. “Then, without squaring your shoulders or making a big deal about it, inhale. Let your breath move that part of your chest, and nothing else.”

A breath.

“...and release,” he said. “There. Now you know the basic, very first, for-beginners breathing technique for singing. We’re going to practice a few more today.” Beat. “And then? You’re all doing karaoke.”

He looked towards Lana. “Including you.”

Lana raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't argue. "Whether any of us can carry a tune is apparently a question for another day." She didn't think she was terrible, but she wouldn't be quitting her day job. "If you've ever done meditation," she told the class, "the breath is a similar technique. The idea is that you want it to expand your diaphragm, which fills more of your lungs than just the top, which is what happens when you breathe shallowly."

She demonstrated that, too. "So, as Atton said, keep your attention here," she gestured, "and breathe deeply."

And hope you could remember the tune to something Earthly in your vocal range.

The instruments were back in the corner again, and Lana smiled at everyone as they settled. "So far we've been figuring out our instruments on our own, but of course a good deal of music involves more than one instrument. Duos, trios, bands - a lot of music is the result of people working together. You can play a chord on some instruments on their own, but you can also play single notes or related chords on others."

She picked up a page from the pile of music scores at the front. "We've got simple tunes here, and we'd like you to try to play them together. In groups of three for a while, and then we'll pick one and try to do it as a group. Try one as it is, then see if you can embellish a little without changing what everyone else needs to do. Let's practice listening to each other and working together, learning to harmonize and make it sound good."

"And once we get around to doing the whole group, I want you guys to go one after the other," Atton added. "So group A starts, group B and C listen. Group B joins in, group C keeps listening. And then by the end, we'll all play."

He tossed the class something that might have been half a genuine smile. "There's something pretty great about getting in tune with someone else," he said, "Feeling like they've got your back. Musically speaking. I'm hoping some of you people get that feeling today."

He cleared his throat.

"... Or you know, don't, and call the Hallmark police and tell them I said that."

“Today, we’re going to talk about chords.” Today’s Atton band shirt was Dream Theater, if anyone was keeping track. “Chords are combinations of two or more notes that, together, make a full sound. So full that punk bands only need about three of ‘em to string a whole song together.”

And that, class, was why the pianos and the guitars had gotten dragged out to the front today. “Chords are the foundation of most popular music on Earth today,” he said. “Every chord has a starting note, or root, and you build more of the sound on top of that note. In a basic major chord, you add what’s called a major third interval and a perfect fifth on top of that.”

He tapped a key on the piano in front of him. “So let’s say our root is C, then the third interval is four half-a-notes up, which gets us to E.” Another tap. “And the perfect fifth is three more semitones further down, which is… G.” Tap. “Major chords tend to sound pretty boisterous, maybe even a little cheerful. Their sadder, more emo little brother is the minor chord. That’s when instead of going four half-notes up, you go three.” He tapped the sequence again, but hit the E minor instead of the E. “See? I’m practically weeping already.”

"If you say so," Lana agreed. "Of course, this only applies to instruments that create notes, which doesn't include some percussion. Drums are rather major by default." Which wasn't even an intentional pun! "The piano is fairly easy to see how the notes relate and where there are half-notes, but for other instruments, you may have to figure it out." She could do her best to help, but her best was going to be mostly Google.

"There are different sorts of chords, of course," she continued, "some of them more pleasing than others, and each invoking a different sort of mood. So we've got some music here, short pieces in different keys with different sorts of chords. There are recordings of each that you can listen to and see how they make you feel, and then play them yourself."

She played the major key progression first, then the minor, and finally the modal.

Atton nodded along. "Finally, we've grabbed some easy punk songs for you guys to practice on," he said. "No percussion, though I'm not going to stop anyone who wants to get behind the drums. Let's make this a band for a day, huh?"

“So we’re going to be trying to teach you a little bit of both theory and genre in this class,” Atton said. They were back in the Danger Shop, that large white plane with all the instruments in the corner. He stood in front of the blackboard, wearing an Opeth shirt this time, his arms crossed.

“Most of you probably know what the basic building blocks of music are. You’ve got the melody, which is a succession of sounds that forms kind of a sentence of sound, and the rhythm, which keeps the beat - one, two, three, four, that kind of thing. Oftentimes drums, but there’s a lot of ways to create rhythm. Leapfrogging off of that is the concept of harmony, which is the sound you get when you play multiple sounds at the same time. We tend to call that a ‘chord’ - for instance, hitting three piano keys at once.”

He eyed the class. “Any questions?” He didn’t think there would be, but see last class re: trying not to be a hardass.

“Sheet music is how music’s written down on Earth,” he continued. “It tries to capture both the melody and the rhythm." He pointed at the board, which had some musical notation written on it, and a couple of notes. “Those are the notes. How high up on the bar they are tells you what they’re supposed to sound like. Are they high notes, or low? The shape of the note tells you how long the note should be played - and thus informs the rhythm.”

"There are different keys that music uses," Lana said. "That is, a different relationship of notes that dictates the overall sound of a song, and often the mood. The simplest one is the one you see here." She waved at the board again. "One note per line and one per space, starting one line below what's called the staff. That's the key of C. The letters go from A to G and then start again. It's also the same as the white keys on a piano." She went over to one and played a scale.

"So, if I were going to play these notes, they'd look like this." She pointed to another section of the board, and then played it. It was 'Joy to the World'. "Which is a religious song from one of the holidays we've just passed. A lot of music on Earth is religious."

She pointed at the board again. "So this note is here." She played it on the piano. "The next one is here, and so forth. Today why don't we all try to figure out how the notes look on the instruments we've chosen? We can look up whatever we need it, and work it out together."