Part 3: the Virtues and Shortfalls of Music Theory

I wasn’t in my university studies for long before my fellow students started balking at some of the courses and their systems of rules, particularly music theory. Many expressed that contrary to what they were learning in music theory, they actually liked the sound of parallel 5ths. Others struggled to understand principles like voice leading and quickly grew frustrated when their homework came back full of corrections. My dad was actually my first music theory professor, and he believed in what he was teaching. I understood where my theory-averse friends were coming from but felt I needed to find a compelling reason to believe in music theory. I was just a teenager at the time, and my explanation was this: music theory explains how the greatest composers (and their music) work. I was, of course, looking at western European composers such as Mozart, Bach, and Brahms, and I unknowingly–or maybe knowingly–applied that definition to all music and all composers. From there I could use music theory to deduce whether Taylor Swift, Howard Shore, Led Zepplin, or Nobuo Uematsu were good composers by using a filter that was purely focused on music theory. 

Obviously, this filter had many problems, creating shortfalls for me–and no shortage of  arguments with my peers. It took me years to understand that music theory was a way of analyzing and understanding certain types of music, like western art music. Once I acknowledged that other musical traditions had their own systems or organization, then I was able to appreciate what before I had only been able to judge. 

Music theory and other systems of musical analysis ask the user to put music in a vacuum, to remove external or situational elements and observe what the music does independent of other factors. This is a gold standard for scientific testing, but some musicians find this approach lacking, because it separates us from the very human aspect of feeling that draws us to music. 

I think that separation from feeling is essential to optimize musical connection. Without that separation music is wholly subjective, or of no objective value–meaning only what humans deem its value to be. I don’t believe that’s the case. I believe there is music that is better crafted, more inspired, and more likely to affect listeners, and systems like music theory help us pinpoint elements that appear in more effective music. Every musical tradition (besides truly aleatoric music) has a system that governs and organizes it, and the more you understand that system, the more clearly you can connect to the music and its effects. 

These systems do put music in a vacuum, and that limits their ability to represent the whole of music. To me, this disqualifies music theory, or any other system of analysis from serving as a music universal, and instead qualifies them as something that must fit into a more inclusive system: listening. I don’t believe this takes anything away from analysis or systems of analysis. Rather, it contextualizes analysis as part of a larger whole, clarifying where analysis should be used and why. 

This article is part three of a series on listening theory. Stayed tuned for part four next week!