Standards, part I

You can probably learn almost all the jazz composition techniques you'll ever need to use by dissecting the standards you tire of playing. Even the cheesiest of songs (I'm looking at you, “All of Me”) has a chord progression in it that you can steal and put to work in your own pieces. While standards have been the common formal language of jazz arguably since its inception, the dominance of the American songbook took place alongside the bebop revolution. The big bands of the 30's certainly played – and even sang – them, but the role of the arranger in this setting was strong enough to consider each band's adaptations as more or less an original work. Certainly reharmonization occurred in small groups, but the repertoire was more or less shared from group to group. Unsurprisingly, these songs ended up heavily influencing the mind of the jazz composer: the common choice of a thirty-two measure song form is not an arbitrary one, nor are the AABA and ABAC forms. What this means is that a detailed approach to the analysis of standards will yield you a wealth ideas that you can fall back on, and even easily use to produce far more modern sounding material.

The first place to begin gathering information would be the harmonic structures of the songs, but first, let's talk about chess. It goes without saying that chess is a complex game, one in which the proper playing technique involves a studied approach to foresight, the memorization of common patterns, and the ability to recognize these patterns while only witnessing their initial steps. At the same time, the only information you need to simply play the game is the proper movement of all of the pieces (you'll almost certainly lose, but that's beyond the point). Composition is like chess, in the sense that to simply compose, all you need to know is how the chords move (thankfully, losing is a much more vague term in this area); in 99% of harmonic progressions, there are explainable reasons for a sequence of chords, but knowledge of them is supplementary and not necessary for the act of writing two chord symbols down on a page. Eventually, it'd be the best idea to find out why things work the way they do, but in the beginning, it's a hindrance to the creative process: again, we don't learn to play chess by memorizing openings, we just learn the way the pieces move.

Returning to the world of standards, all of the ways to sequence chords are laid out clearly in front of you in these songs. The most common of these progressions would be the ii-V-I, in both major and minor keys, with a close second being its greater structuring principle, chords moving in descending cycles of fifths – ii-V-I-IV-vii-III-vi. Just about every song you know is based on this pattern, with the distinctive qualities of the songs coming from the places it breaks the cycle of fifths. In “All the Things You Are”, the piece begins with this cycle in Ab Major, and when it reaches the IV chord, it jumps abruptly into C Major from a G7 chord. This instance can be described as a IV-VII7 progression. If you're lost, let's backtrack...

You'll need to have a basic understanding of Roman numeral notation to do any analysis. If you're not familiar with it, it's a system used to label chords in a single key in relation to the tonic, which is labeled I or i depending on if the key is major or minor. Each chord is labeled in uppercase or lowercase to signify major or minor, and the number represents the scale degree the chord is built on: iii in C Major is a minor chord – lower case – and built on E – the third note in C Major – so the chord is E minor. This system allows you to easily relate chord progressions from key to key, as well as conceptualize progressions in a general, non-key-related way (see, algebra is good for something). For our purposes, if a chord is altered – meaning, it does not fall in the original key – we'll relate to it with a # or b to locate it in relation to a scale degree inside the key, and the capitalization of the altered numeral will replace the standard chord quality in the key: bIII in C Major would be an Eb chord, not E, and a major chord, not minor. This is not the same system used in analysis of classical music -- they have their own method for labeling altered chords – but it's a useful short-hand for us. That a chord is a seven chord will be assumed, unless it is a dominant chord, with which you can attach whatever extensions the chord has onto the symbol: V7b9, V7#11, V7#5, etc. The important thing is that these Roman numerals allow us to locate more general, abstract qualities in specific songs.

So let's return to the songs. Just as you can build up a melodic vocabulary through transcription of solos, you can build a harmonic vocabulary by categorizing chord progressions you've seen. Keep a notebook set aside to put these progressions in, just as you have one for your soloing licks, and add to it every time you see something new. So far we have ii-V-I and IV-VII7, so you can put those down in your book and continue on to a different piece. Let's look at “All of Me” next. The song begins with a C major chord and is immediately followed by an E7 chord; there's a fairly simple reason why, but again, we don't care about why at the moment, just how. So considering that we're in the key of C Major, we can label this progression as I-III7. Write this down and continue on your merry way through the song. What remains is mostly a series of V-I sequences, but you might look at the F major to F minor that occurs later in the piece, which you could notate as IV-iv. Go through a few more songs and find interesting progressions and add them to your book until you've got more information than you know what to do with.

Next time, we'll discuss how to relate these progressions and build song forms out of them.