Can Something Written in Weird Time Signatures Be An Earworm?

May 01, 2023

When I was eight I started piano lessons. It wasn’t my idea—is it ever? I quickly concluded I was terrible at it. After all, I couldn’t play anything perfectly the first time, so I must be terrible, right? Who knew you had to practice? Years after I stopped, I learned from my mom that my piano teacher considered me her biggest regret, not because I sucked, but just the opposite: she said I was talented, but just refused to put in the work. As they say, youth is wasted on the young.

It wasn’t a total loss. I did become interested in the musical theory. Yes, I was that nerd. I talked with my piano teacher about scales and meters and time signatures, and badgered her with questions. One of them went something like, “Why 4/4? Or 6/8? Why not something like 5/7, or 13/8?”

She explained to me that for most people, time signatures like that wouldn’t sound good, and besides, not many people would be able to play them. She also told me there were in fact some far-out composers (most of them were from Eastern Europe, of course) who wrote that kind of music. What she didn’t tell me was that she actually played some of that far-out stuff in her professional recitals.

My teacher was the real thing. She played Carnegie Hall at least twice, though I only realized years later what a big deal that was. I also realized how patient she must have been, to take the time to answer all these questions from a kid who wouldn’t practice.

Wherever I go, walking or running or skiing, or riding in a car, I’ve always had a sound track playing in my head. When I was a kid, it was typically something I had heard at home (mostly classical), then later, from the popular TV shows of the day, and eventually, from one of the top rock bands of the moment. To this day, I still have music playing in my head, if it isn’t being piped in through headphones or speakers.

These things that stick in your head are, of course, earworms. They can be great songs to have stuck there, or horrible, please-stop-before-I -tear-my-hair-out, Manilow-grade nightmares.

My friend and fellow writer, Steve Goldberg, devotes a whole column to earworms. It’s actually a stealth blog about getting through life’s challenges and coping gracefully with one’s own demons, disguised as a lighthearted column about pop songs. Steve combines two of the most cringe-inducing things in the world — earworms and bad puns — to make something brilliant and often hilarious. You should check it out.

Ok, so how does this all connect? I started this piece off with a riff on weird time signatures, but of course, by definition, earworms are usually not written in weird time signatures. The band I’m featuring here 1) writes and plays in weird time signatures, yet 2) is incredibly catchy. That is a paradox I’m still trying to figure out.

Their pieces are not earworms in any conventional sense, but they’re trying to be, in all the best possible ways. I find I want to hear them over and over again. It’s like I need to understand what is going on, but can’t quite get there. My piano teacher would have understood.

Paranoid Void were formed in 2013 by three high-school students in Osaka.

Meguri - Guitar
Yu-Ki - Bass
Mipow - Drums

They released their first full-length album in 2017, and have toured both the U.S. and Europe.

…….

“Null”, (2019) studio live one-take

The perfect introduction to this band—catchy, melodic, yet mind-blowingly technical. In the bridge section they have spliced in the guitar parts backward, giving a weird swooshing effect, but it’s all them playing. The bass line is mind-blowing.

“ukiya”, (2019) official music video

I find this mesmerizing. The bridge section has all three instruments taking different time signatures. They somehow weave it together perfectly. I have no idea how musicians become this proficient. Oh, yeah, forgot. Practice. (Talent helps too.)