The term Alap comes from North Indian Classical music, and refers to an introductory passage that is slow, semi-improvised and underscored by a drone.

Now, I’m no expert on Indian Classical music, so I’m not going to talk about that specifically. But Indian music has had an influence on Western pop since the Beatles and several very famous and effective songs have had introductions that have shared musical elements that make them Westernised alaps in all but name.

The characteristics of an alap are:

• No clear meter or pulse
  Drone backing
  Improvised or semi-improvised melodic elements
  Slow movement

Why might you use one?

Because it lacks a clear pulse, and alap has an almost static feel to it, which can contrast very effectively with the main beat of a song. Because of this they make very effective introductions, allowing you to introduce harmonic and melodic elements of your song and build a real sense of anticipation before the beat and main part of the song begins.

One word of  warning – an alap takes time so you’ll need an equally long song following it to justify the length of the introduction.

What do you need to create one?
A drone, perhaps from a keyboard or string instrument.
Atmospheric melodic and percussive instruments – but remember only to hint at rhythm, you don’t want a pulse until you move into the song proper.

Here are two other Westernised alaps, the former I think very much an influence on the latter:

For the comments

Can you think of any other alaps in Western pop music?

How does your song fit with those around it? No song is an island, entire of itself (what? Paraphrasing John Dunne like that is silly?), it will always stand as part of a live set, mixtape, song-cycle or even (dare I say it?) an album.

There’re all sorts of interesting debates going around about the album. Is it commercially viable? Have single song downloads and our attention span 2.0 ruined the album?

In this day and age, mixtapes and playlists are perhaps more prevalent than ever. Every listener has the option of creating their own playlists. Do you want your songs to turn up on only one user-created list? Or do you want to have a track in the ‘mellow’ playlist, the ‘party’ playlist and the ‘out-jogging’ playlist?

Personally, I like albums and want to keep listening to collections of songs arranged in such a way. As this blog isn’t about the music business (I don’t know what’s commercially viable, wouldn’t know where to begin) let’s instead think about how your songwriting can reflect the fact that songs don’t exist on their own.

Concept

The idea of the ‘Concept’ album is not the most fashionable, which is something I’ve always found odd. Yes, you might not want to write a two-hour musical narrative or call your work a ‘concept’ album, but there’s still going to be an idea that joins your songs together isn’t there? If there isn’t, why on earth are you not putting out seperate singles? The concept could simply be that you’re creating the perfect dance album, the ultimate ambient-techno-folk work, a pleasant collection of country songs (is there such a thing?).

If songs are going to be put together, in a live set album (or even a mixtape of different artists) they need to make sense there. A classic example of this not being done is the title track from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s ‘Phantom of the Opera’. The whole of the musical is mock opera, except for one completely incongruous synth-pop song, complete with electric drums and guitar.

The arrangement of the song, while fine on it’s own, doesn’t quite work in context of the whole show. Your songs need to do the same, musically, thematically, lyrically.

Pace/Groove/Time Signature

As listeners, we need variety if we’re not going to get bored or burned out, and we need the pace of a set of songs to make sense. Steve Vai makes sure that the seventh track on each of his albums is a slow, meaningful ballad. Iron Maiden start every album with the song that will be the fast paced, high energy set opener.

As a broad rule of thumb, I’d say the energy level of a set or album has to follow this basic pattern: start ‘high energy’, take the energy level down a little, then rise again for the finale. Not doing so, for example by not ending ‘up’ or staying at the same energy level for the entire set risks losing the attention of the audience. Exactly what counts as high energy depends on the genre you’re writing in, and a longer set might have more peaks and troughs, but the basic shape should hold true.

Energy can also come through the groove or time signature – a sudden break from the punk rock beat to give some reggae can work wonders in varying the pace. Similarly, a whole hour at 300bpm might be a tad draining.

Length

Variety is key here as well. Starting out an album or set with the nineteen minute epic might not be the best idea. Best to build up to something so demanding via a couple of smaller chunks. Variety is your friend here as well – too many songs of the same length risks losing the attention span of the audience.

Key

Variety of key is more important between songs than it is within songs. For the listener to stay interested, you’re going to have to think about using both a variety of tonic notes and a variety of kinds of key. Is everything in a major key? Is the root note always E? Then you’re going to loose your listeners.

Conclusion

Whether writing an album or considering a live set, you need to think about the listener. Songs don’t exist on their own, never mind what the shuffle function has led you to believe. If you don’t think you’ve got exactly the write mix of songs – rearrange or write something new. I’ve often written a song precisely because I needed something fast-paced to get the pace of the set right.

It’s worth doing, because no song is an island, entire of itself and therefore, never send to know for whom the bell tolls… (all right, all right no more silly quotes).

Do you dream of playing to huge crowds in huge venues? As a life long rock and metal fan, I’ve always had those dreams and there’s a type of song that fits them, a type of song that only makes sense when a crowd of tens of thousands sings along. Bon Jovi, Iron Maiden, Bruce Springsteen, Metallica and many other rock bands have written them: songs with melodies that demand to be shouted out from the middle of a packed arena, every member of the crowd screaming in out-of-tune unison.

Of course there’s a formula that you could follow if you wanted to write a song like this.

Lyrics and Meaning

A common theme on this blog is that lyrics are not the primary means of expressing meaning in a song, they’re just one ingredient. So stadium rock songs as diverse as You Give Love A Bad Name, Born to Run, The Trooper and Creeping Death are all actually about the same thing. Lyrically they cover topics such as love affairs (good and bad) doomed soldiers in the charge of the light brigade and monsters in ancient egypt, but see them performed in front of an audience and you realise that isn’t what they’re really about. Actually, they’re about people coming together to feel part of the same group. They’re about friendship and fraternity.

That meaning doesn’t necessarily come from the lyrics, but rather the fact that ten thousand people can sing the same thing at the same time.

So, whatever your lyrics, you need to make space for the fact that everyone has to be able to sing along.

How do you write a melody that everyone can sing along to?

That’s a tricky question to answer.

The masters of the singalong stadium chorus are Iron Maiden: just take a look at this recording of Fear of the Dark in front of an audience of 250,000.

Pretty much every melody in this is designed for a quarter of a million people to singalong to.

There’s lots of the repetition – the opening guitar melody is the same as the opening vocal part; the chorus repeats the line ‘fear of the dark; the middle section repeats the same line, albeit with a different melody.

They all use simple scale patterns, in this case a minor scale mostly moving in step but with the occasional, emotive leap of perhaps a fourth or fifth. Sequences abound ‘fear of the dark’ repeated, slightly lower each time for example.

They use pretty simple rhythmic ideas with lots of long notes.

Call and response – lots of stadium rock songs use this, and building in is vital for your stadium rock song.
Call – ‘Oh, we’re half way there’
Response – ‘Oh-oh, living on a prayer’

Call – ‘Can I play with madness?’
Response – ‘The prophet stared at his crystal ball’

Chords

You’ve got lots of choices here. Bruce Springsteen in Born to Run uses standard pop song chords, including I IV V (E A B) and I VI IV V (E C#m A B) which you could find in rock and roll songs. But since the innovations of 1970s heavy rock bands, a kind of progression has come to be synonymous with epic singalong choruses.

Yes, it’s the aoelian I VI VII. For example Em C D or Am F G. This chord progression and variations on it have become ubiquitous to entire genres of music (heavy metal, hiphop) and especially to stadium rock songs.

What chord choices give you this epic mood?

Em C D

Em C G D

Em C Am Em C D

For the chorus you’ll need something like this. The verse is another matter. If you’re going to use the same kind of chords, which many people do there are several things you could do. It’s best to change chord less often, for example two bars of Eminor and two of C, an/or have something riff based. Bon Jovi song’s are a good example of both. Of course a heavy metal song is more likely to be rhythmic or riff based in the verse.

Arrangement and Sturcture

Big big bigger, that’s the key for stadium rock songs. In particular you need a big, loud chorus, a long drawn out intro, a long guitar solo (or similar) in the middle, a huge reprise of the chorus, maybe a coda centred around repeated chanting of singing of a three note refrain on the syllable ‘oh’. You certainly don’t want the song to be shorter than about five or six minutes.

The stadium rock song is a difficult thing to master, and most of us will never be playing stadiums anyway. But certain genres lend themselves to this kind of song, no matter the venue and the central ideas – the use of aeolian chord progressions to sound ‘epic’, the use of call and response phrasing, the sprawling structure and the huge volume – are applicable in all sorts of songwriting situations.

Any anyway, lots of us dream of playing to huge crowds. So why not write songs to match those dreams?

Writing a standard pop song? Something not quite right?

Let’s try going through some basic troubleshooting to see if we can find out what the problem is.

1. Have you used a pop song structure?

The standard pop song is an extension of the older 32 bar song structure. Or if you like, a compound AABA structure with each A containing a verse and a chorus.

What am I talking about? The pop song basically states the verse and chorus material, restates it, then contrasts this with a B section, then returns to the (verse and) chorus material.

Have you done that with your song? AABA? Have you forgotten one of the sections, or added too many? (you can use intro, pre-chorus or coda)

2. Do your chords work?

 Lots of songwriters (myself included) start with a chord progression. What I mean by ‘do they work?’  depends on the key and harmonic ideas you’re using, but one of the most important ideas is that of tension and release. Are you asking musical questions in the right place?

For example, have you used chords to create musical tension at the end of your bridge, leading into your chorus. Say your blues song has a chorus that starts on the tonic chord F. If the bridge also ends on an F, there won’t be the same tension and release as there would be if your bridge ends on a C7 chord.

Do that and the move from C7 to F will be much more interesting for the listener.

Another important thing to look at is your harmonic rhythm: how foten you change chords. Are you changing chord once per bar for the entire song? Maybe that’s why it isn’t working. Try having sections where the chords change more or less frequently.

3. Have you got contrast in the right places?

As a very very general map, a pop song often has a verse with a lower pitched melody than the chorus. A chorus often has a more ‘lyrical’ melody while the verse is more rhythmic.

Gary Ewer has a great blog post on the difference between verse and chorus.

One of the most important places that contrast is needed is after the second chorus. If you’re really unsure, use the middle section to do the exact opposite of whatever the rest of the song does. Writing an up beat dance song? The middle section could be slow with no drum beat. Writing ballad? The middle is where you bring in the drums and pick up the pace.

None of this is gospel, but an effective song has to have contrast of some sort.

4. Does the song develop?

This one’s the biggie – it lets down a lot of songs, even commercial hits (because as we all know a song can be a commercial hit and an artistic ‘failure’).

If the last chorus is exactly the same as the first, is there any point in repeating it? If the song stays at the same level dynamically, if it doesn’t have enough contrast in harmony or instrumentation it will not work.

Common fixes, aside from the harmonic and dynamic ideas we spoke about in the middle section:

• Change instrumentation in the second verse – a counter melody here, or even taking out the chord instruments to leave bass drums and vocals, can work wonders.
• Add an extra part in the final chorus – vocal ad libs, a counter melody, or if you’re really brave save the drum kit until the final chorus
• Change key – this needs to be handled with care, as you’re in danger of sounding very cheesy if you change key for the last chorus. Then again, you might want to sound cheesy.

The point is that, however you do it, a song needs to gain energy as it progresses. There are multiple ways of doing that, by having a quiet intro, by contrasting half term and full time sections, by drastically changing instrumentation for some sections, by bringing in an unexpected sax solo.

However you do it, a successful song develops.

Will this article help with every possible problem? No. In fact there are whole areas of songwriting I haven’t even touched on. Hopefully it should get you thinking about how to fix your songs.

If you’ve got some more ideas about common songwriting problems, please leave them in the comments.

The word ‘Anthem’ usually refers to a song designed to bring people together – it’s the piece that everyone sings along to.

The particular kind of anthem I’m refering to in this article is the moderately paced, string laden singalong ballad that have provided hits for bands such as Snow Patrol, Kings of Leon and Take That; and that have become a ubiquitous part of TV mission documentaries.

Lyrically, these songs tend to be relatively bittersweet – triumphant yet sad at the same time.

My favourite set of lyrics for this sort of song is atypical: Motorcycle Emptiness has a wonderful set of lyrics that reference biker culture, and seem to be about the distance between an individual and a hollow culture, rather than the distance between two individuals that so many other ‘anthems’ talk about. Use Somebody (Kings of Leon) and the Space Between (Dave Matthews Band) are great examples of this latter idea.

Of course, meaning doesn’t come solely from the lyrics – it’s clear from live footage of these songs that regardless of the words, all of them are as triumphant and celebratory as the more obvious Greatest Day by Take That.

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Chords

There is one chord sequence that is common to a lot of these songs: I V (1st inv) vi IV. For example in C major: C G/B Am F.

This chord progression is used in Take That’s Greatest Day and Manic Street Preachers’ Motorcycle Emptiness.

Other songs use variations, for example Use Somebody by the Kings of Leon uses a much simpler version C C/E F. Snow Patrol’s Chasing Cars is slightly different again, but the important factors in this chord progression are:

The use of inversions – this gives us interest without having to change chords too much. An Anthem needs to sound easy, and have a flowing motion. Using inversions allows us a smooth bassline and interesting harmonic ideas without changing chord drastically. In particular, a bass line that starts on the tonic then descends to the leading note seems to be very popular.

Ending on chord IV – Which gives us a cadence of IV – I (eg. F to C). Why is that important? I think the so called ‘plagal’ cadence still has connotations of spirituality and contemplation (it’s used in lots of hymns and gospel songs, so much so that it’s known as the ‘amen’ cadence). That mood suits the anthem to a tee.

Example chord progressions

Motor Cycle Emptiness - E B/D# C#m A

Greatest Day - C G/b Am F

Use Somebody – C C/E F

Chasing Cars – A E/G# D A

Arrangement

The anthem is all about that triumphant-with-a-hint-of-sadness chorus.

Often this has to be built to. So in both Take That’s ‘Greatest Day’ and Snow Patrol’s ‘Chasing Cars’ you get extended periods with little or no percussion, perhaps with repeated quavers from the chord instruments (or toms), emphasising the tension and build up to the inevitable chorus. Of course, a more traditional quiet verse, loud chorus approach works just as well, as in ‘Use Somebody’.

High-pitched guitar arpeggios are also very popular, as in Chasing Cars, or the very lovely Space Between by Dave Matthews

Melody

The major pentatonic scale is your friend here (C D E G A) – Both ‘Use Somebody’ and ‘Greatest Day’ have melodies that make great use of the first three note of the major scale, with occasional leaps up to the fifth note on the title line.

Use Somebody


Greatest Day

An alternative is to emphasise the seventh or leading note, as in Chasing Cars, (Or the verse of the Killers Mr Brightside, which uses some of these elements). Chasing Cars also makes great use of the first three notes of the major scale here.

It’s interesting to note the common themes between the chord and melody ideas in these anthems – they’re all pretty static and don’t use a huge range. Almost as if the songs intend to keep us in stasis, slowly growing a mood rather than taking a journey.

A Summary – Ideas to Steal.

If you want to compose your own anthem, try using these ingredients:

• Bittersweet lyrics about emotional distance

• A chord progression that includes inversions, perhaps chord I to the first inversion of chord V, a descending bass line and a plagal cadence (chord IV to I)

• A melody that emphasises the first three notes of the major scale, a leap up to the fifth, or an emphasis on the leading note (possibly over the IV chord)

• An arrangement that follows conventional pop song structure and/or includes a building dynamic and restrained use of percussion

One of the most popular posts on this site is about the 32 bar song structure.

That structure is quite old fashioned, but lots of modern forms developed from it.

 Compound 32-Bar structure.

 The standard 32 bar follows an AABA structure, with B providing a contrast to the A sections. It’s pretty much a ternry structure, with the first a section repeated.

The usual pop song structure, (verse chorus verse chorus middle 8 chorus) can be seen as a variation on this. Instead of one musical idea in the A section, it can be divided into two, the verse and chorus.

• A Verse Chorus
• A Verse Chorus
• B Middle 8
• A Verse Chorus

You are Not Alone

This Michael Jackson song, while sentimental and a little unpleasant,with a genuinely disturbing video, nevertheless illustrates another way of adapting the 32 bar structure.

It does this by using a 32-bar structure as a verse (nearly. It’s actually 40 bars AABAA).

After the first of these there’s a small interval that uses some chromatic chords. The second verse is then a repeat of the 40 bar structure (with different words). This if followed by a middle section that takes us out of key again, before returning to the main melody, and repeating in ascending keys.

 This too is a compound version of the 32 bar structure.

• A (A’A'B’A'A’)
• Interlude
• A (A’A'B’A'A’)
• B Bridge
• A (A’ section repeated in ascending keys)
• Outro

What should you take from this for your own songwriting? The ternary structure is a basic structural idea, but a very useful one. The basic idea of using one idea, contrasting it with another, then returning to the original idea, is always effective.

Listeners like comprehensible structures. That doesn’t mean they always need the same structure, but it does mean that adapting well known structures a little can be very effective. How could you adapt the 32 bar structure to your own ends?

A Small Aside

You Are Not Alone also uses some interesting chromatic chords. It’s in the key of B and several times goes to a G major chord. That’s a major chord built on the minor sixth, which isn’t part of the key but does contain the root note. Always worth a try.

A few days ago I received an email from a reader named Martin Andersson.

Martin writes:

Do you write on request?

I sure do

Here’s a topic I’d like to see covered a bit more indepth, but seldom run into, although it’s one of the most important parts of making a song: the Intro.

Do you have any tips on that one? I usually have no problem whatsoever writing words and chords, but when it comes to writing intros I more often than not find myself in a state of lack of inspiration. Sure, it’s always possible to vamp for a while, or just play a chord progression that’s somewhere else in the song, but most often that feels like a bad kind of compromise that doesn’t really do the song justice.

Thanks for writing, Martin. A great question that really got me thinking about my own songwriting. I have to admit, I’m often a little lazy when it comes to writing intros.

After a little thought, I’ve come up with four different ways to introduce a song:

1. Establish the groove.

This is very common, and pretty much the same as what Martin says he usually does:- vamping the chords for a while.

Popular song is very often based around a groove or beat, so why not begin by introducing that first? This Sting song has a great groove in five four that emphasises the first beat of the bar and the off beat of the second beat.

2. Build tension.

This Metallica song uses a variation on the main riff as an intro, but instead of introducing the groove straight away, it builds up, gradually adding layers of pounding toms and chugging guitars until the eventual appearance of the groove comes as a relief from the tension of the constant build up.

3. Use middle 8 material

This great indie rock anthem by the Manic Street Preachers has an intro that we hear again in the middle of the song. The middle of a song is where we need a break from the normal groove, harmony or feel of the song. Often we need something similar from the intro too, so why not use the same musical ideas in the intro and the middle eight?

4. Suprise the listener

This song by the prog-metal band Cynic has a great ‘suprise’ intro with a huge contrast between the first chords and the groove that crashes in a few seconds later.

I wanted to embed this live performance instead, but I wasn’t allowed so check out the link if you want to hear the live version

In General

The intro is there to get the listener ready for the song, without giving away too much. It should introduce, tantalise, suggest.

A few extra tips:

• End unresolved, for example end your intro on the second or fifth chord in the scale (Dm or G in C major)
• Have less energy eg. slower tempo, lower key, less well defined rhythm or percussion 
• Balance – Longer intros only belong at the start of long songs – don’t build up tension over two minutes, only to go to a song that lasts for two minutes.
• Finally, consider whether you need an intro at all. A lot of the time, launching straight into the first verse can work just as well.