Introduction
I’ve advocated in the past that you don’t need to know music theory to compose great music. You can go far with an incredibly basic knowledge of scales and structure. I stand by that belief, but that doesn’t mean it won’t help to know some theory fundamentals.
It’s often assumed in theory that the more you know, the better the music you write will be. I’ve found that oversimplifies the issue pretty drastically—and in a way that tends to turn people away from theory all together. When it comes to theory, the key is to work smarter, not harder. What does this even mean? Let me frame it like this: there’s a ton you can do with a little bit of knowledge, but once you start to get advanced, progress slows way down. In other words, there’s no linear relationship between what you know and what you can do.
In this two-part series, I’m going to lay out everything I’ve learned with regards to music theory. I’ll condense years of learning and experimenting into a few short sections. This is all I’ve needed to compose four songs and improvise in front of all sorts of crowds. A lot of what I say here might not stick, and that’s perfectly fine. Feel free to return at any point, and, if you want to learn more about anything I talk about, I’d encourage you to conduct your own investigations. (I’ll include some resources throughout to help with this.) What I’m here to do is to make sure you have access to the fundamentals that I wish I’d started with years ago.
Basic notation
Let’s talk about notation. Note that I’m assuming you have some experience with an instrument, and that you know how to read music, even if very slowly. I won’t go over every musical symbol here, but there are a few key ones you’ll want to keep in mind when composing.
You’re probably familiar with time signature. That’s the two numbers stacked on one another at the very start of a piece. They might be represented by a “C.” The “C” might have a line through it. More on that in a minute.
Time signature indicates the number of a certain kind of beat in each measure. 4/4, also called common time and represented by that “C,” means that each measure will have a number of beats equal to the duration of four quarter notes. If you’re familiar with fractions, this should make sense. In the numerator, you have the number of beats per measure. That’s multiplied by 1/4, so the “value” of each beat is that of a quarter note. In 4/4 time, there’s only one “whole” beat per measure. 2/4 time is similar, but it means there are only 2 quarter beats per measure. “Cut time,” represented by a C with a line through it, means 2/2, that is, two half notes per measure. The difference between cut and common time can be confusing as both technically fit the same number of quarter notes per measure. But the stresses are different. This can quickly get complicated and is beyond what you or I need to know right now. If you’re just getting started composing, I’d recommend sticking to common time.
“Tempo” refers to the speed at which the music is played. It’s measured in beats per minute (BPM). This is NOT the speed at which anyone should try to play when first learning a piece. It’s the speed that, according to the composer, should be followed when performing on stage. The BPM can be listed above the start of a song, but it’s not necessary. If you do want to include directions for speed, try your main theme at different speeds to see what sounds best. Remember, faster is not always better.
Here are a few more notations that it’s important to have a handle on. Legato, represented by a long arc over or under a set of notes, means the notes are supposed to be played connectedly. Staccato, shown by a dot above or below a note, signifies a shortened duration. A tie signifies that two notes of the same pitch are to be played without separation, essentially combining their durations.
If you’re not sure where everything goes or what anything looks like, my best advice would be to look at classical pieces. Existing pieces, especially by famous composers, can serve as great inspiration when you’re just getting started composing. And you can learn pretty much everything you need to know about notation from them. (Here’s an expanded list of basic music notation if you want to go more in-depth.)
Choosing a key
One of the first things you’ll have to do when composing is choose a key. I’d recommend starting with something simple, like C Major, F Major, A minor, or D minor. (You can actually have all these keys in one piece, but more on that later.) In music, keys are conveniently arranged in a system called the circle of fifths. (Use this chart as reference.) Starting at C, going up a fifth on a keyboard brings you to the “root” (1st note) of the key to the right; going down a fifth sends you to the left. Every major key has a set of notes unique to it, differentiated by the number of fixed sharps or flats. (A sharp on a pitch means that pitch is permanently raised by a half step, and a flat means it’s permanently lowered by one.) As you can see, the keys nearer to the top have fewer sharps or flats. Nearer to the bottom, it can get difficult to keep track of them all. It can take a lot of effort to get comfortable with these more complex keys. While it’s definitely important to get comfortable playing in different keys, you may want to stick with an “easier” one for the time being.
When you’re composing, choose a key and include the proper sharps and flats, if any. Music writing softwares will usually do this for you, but you’ll need to do it manually at the beginning of every line, right after each of the treble and bass clefs, if you’re writing by hand. (Look at any classical piece for reference. I say “classical” because some genres, like jazz, use different notation or have just one staff.) Knowing and making note of your key is essential as it indicates the meaning of each staff for anyone who reads your piece. Lines on the page in the key of F may look the same as they do in B, but they mean entirely different things.
The structure of a composition
Structure is inherent to composition and a basic understanding goes a long way in terms of appreciating great music. Let’s break down the key elements of how and why to structure a song.
Why do you even need a structure? After all, many popular pieces are filled with variation, aren’t they? That’s undoubtedly true, but you’ll be hard-pressed to find a song that doesn’t have some kind of central melody. We’ll call this the main theme. Coming back around to your main theme at different points throughout the piece, regardless of how much variation you have (more on ways to vary your piece below), will give it an air of cohesion that experienced musicians look for.
Keeping the idea of a main theme in mind, let’s look at some common structures. We’re going to talk about structures in terms of letters (A, B, C, …). The letters do not refer to keys, but to sections of a piece of music, like chapters in a book. Different sections may be in different keys; more about that soon.
Let’s call your main theme “A.” A-B-A, or sandwich structure, refers to a song that is broken up into three parts. “A” is your main theme, which may or may not be repeated when it’s first played. “B” is the contents of the sandwich: it’s your chance to try a new idea, though it’s typically a good idea to keep some element of your A section present. That could mean playing the same melody just in a different key, or maybe maintaining rhythmic ideas in the same key but with a new melody. The second A section is a copy of your first, usually played for the same duration as it was at the beginning.
You probably want to have at least an A and a B section in a given composition. It’s good to have something to show other than that one catchy melody you came up with. That said, the B section doesn’t need to be totally different from the main theme. I already mentioned that it’d probably help if they have something in common. Also note that you probably don’t want to change your time signature in the middle of a piece. You may want to try repeating a chord progression in all your sections but “playing” that progression in different ways. (More on chord progressions next time.)
Sandwich structure is great if you’re just starting out. But what if you want something more complicated? Well, there are really no limits to what you can conceive of once you understand the basics. I’ll list a few more examples below, but I’d highly encourage you to try one of your own. The possibilities are endless. The only “rule” I’d recommend is to try and come back around to your “A” section at some point in the piece.
One example of a more advanced theme is A-B-A-C-A-B1-A1. Confused? Don’t worry, here’s the entire song in-depth: if A is the main theme, then B and C are “side quests” or other musical ideas, B1 is a variation with many of the same qualities as B, and A1 is a variation of A. For a section to count as a variation, you want it to have most things in common with the original but maybe one or two things done differently. For example, you could add notes on the “off” beats to spice things up. Or end the section differently. Switching up your finish can be especially effective at the end of a piece, where you want to achieve a dramatic conclusion that wouldn’t fit in elsewhere.
A-B-A-C-A is another common structure. In his “Rondo Alla Turca,” Mozart uses A-B-C-B-A-B1-D. Note that Mozart is able to justify playing his B section more often than his A section by the fact that the B section is much shorter and serves mainly as a transition between different parts of the song.
Generally, you want to have some amount of variation. That said, different composers enjoy very different ratios of structure and contrast. There’s no one-size-fits-all. Study the greats and experiment to see what works best for you.
Looking for ways to vary your piece? Key changes are your friend. They are certainly not essential, especially if your piece is on the shorter end (say, under three pages), but they can really help to bring another layer to a song if done well. If your composition is pretty repetitive, they might be just what you need in terms of variation.
A key change is typically done at the start of a new section. It’s pretty much just what it sounds like: a transition into a new key. Keep in mind that by the end of a composition, you probably want to return to the key in which you started.
Remember the circle of fifths we mentioned earlier? The circle is key to understanding appropriate vs. inappropriate key changes. As you can see from the chart, every major key has a minor key that shares all its sharps and flats. C Major and a minor, G Major and e minor, D♭ Major and B♭ minor. The most common kind of key change is from a major to its related minor. C(M) and a(m) are “related” keys since they share the same notes. It sounds more natural to transition between a major key and its related minor than it does to transition between any other two keys. CM has two other related major keys: F and G. These each share all but one common tone with C. Their related minor keys, d and e, are also related to C. Thus, for each key, there are 5 related keys. The related keys of F, for example, are d, C, B♭, a, and g. See the pattern?
When you’re changing keys in the middle of a piece, you probably want to change to a related key. It sounds unnatural to switch to a key with fewer shared notes. In theory, you can use all 24 keys in a single piece and have it sound perfectly natural by moving around the circle in either direction. But I wouldn’t recommend that for beginners.
Previously, I’ve broken down what you need to know to start improvising and composing for the piano. Here I’ve introduced you to a number of important concepts in music theory. This should be more than enough to get you thinking critically about popular pieces and equip you with the tools to start working on complex compositions. In Part 2, I’ll tell you how to formulate harmonies. I’ll talk all about chord progressions and go into scale degrees, triads, and modulation. I’ll teach you about inversions, showing you how to play both hands off one another effortlessly. I’ll introduce the idea of counterpoint. I’ll talk about how to channel emotions through dynamics and will provide you with a wealth of additional resources to inspire your music journey.
As always, the most important thing you can do is keep experimenting. Nothing rewarding comes easy at the start, and music improv and composition are no exception to this rule. But understanding what makes music tick is one of the most rewarding abilities out there. The applications are endless. So keep at it. You’ve got this.