Scale degree — where it appears
Named by 27 essays across 4 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
A melody is a walk, not a set
Nine essays here are about which seven of the twelve a scale takes, and every one of them describes a set. A tune is not a set; it is a path across one, and the path is nearly all small steps. That is not a matter of taste. Above about eight notes a second the ear stops being able to hold a large interval and a small one in the same line, and at sixteen the choice disappears altogether — so a fast passage is scalar because a fast passage that leaps is two pieces of music.
A degree is where it goes next
The first essay on scales beyond twelve said a mode is not a set and listed four things a set cannot record. This one makes the sharpest of them arithmetic. Specify a mode as an ascent and a descent — which is how a living tradition specifies one — and it becomes a directed graph on its degrees; sixty-three such graphs collapse onto a single pentatonic set, sixty-two of them with an ascent that is not the descent reversed, and every standard measure of a scale returns the same value for all of them.
The stave is not a ruler
A hundred and eighty essays here draw pitch against an axis somebody computed. The one axis every reader already owns is the five lines, and it is not a pitch axis at all: it counts letters. Seven positions carry twelve pitches, so the same vertical distance is two intervals before an accidental is allowed and six after — and the accidental is not an extra symbol on a complete scale but the repair for a scale with five values missing.
The one note that decides the mode
A key signature names the seven and not the rotation, so the mode has to be heard. Enumerate every set of degrees that lies inside at least one of the seven modes — 510 of them — and count how many modes each leaves standing. Fifteen minimal sets decide, every one has two members, and every one is the mode's own tritone. The only degree all seven share is the tonic; no degree belongs to a single mode; and averaged over the orders the degrees could arrive in, 5.67 of the seven have to have been heard first.
A standard is a specification
Choosing where to put A looks like a convention and is a mechanical decision. Tension goes as the square of frequency, so a piano built at 440 and tuned to 466 carries twelve per cent more load — a tonne and a half in this model's arithmetic. And there is a hard ceiling nobody can engineer round: frequency times length is capped by half the square root of a material's specific strength, which for gut is 240 hertz-metres. A violin E at A440 runs at 89 per cent of that. At A493 it is at a hundred, and every complaint in the historical record about rising pitch is about that one string.
How many boxes an octave holds
An identification model of pitch is usually handed twelve categories, and nothing ever asked how many an octave can hold. There are two answers and they are a factor of forty apart. Resolution allows between 151 and 356 — a listener can tell that many pitches apart in a direct comparison. Naming one of them without a comparison is a different faculty and it runs out at six or seven, which is where every mode in every tradition compared here sits. Turkish theory names fifty-three commas to the octave and a makam uses seven of them, and the gap between those two numbers is the whole of the argument.
How much an anchor would have to be worth
Two pitch errors added in quadrature assume an independence nobody measured — a listener inside a key hears a note as a scale degree, and a shared reference is exactly a correlated error. Turning the dial is not evidence. What is evidence is that the dial is not free: a shared error cancels out of a difference completely, so a listener's single-note limen and their interval limen give the two components with nothing left over, and halving the interval limen needs a correlation of exactly 0.75.
The quantity a rival account says is not there
Two earlier essays measure how much two notes' errors are correlated through a shared anchor, and price what that correlation would be worth. There is a rival account in which a listener refers each note to a key and never forms the distance at all — under which the correlation is not small, it is a description of something that is not happening. The two accounts agree on almost everything and disagree on one manipulation, and the manipulation costs an afternoon.
The key-finder with no tonic
Thirteen essays of key-finding have run over twelve major collections and not twenty-four keys, so a passage in A minor is read as C. Adding the missing twelve costs almost nothing and fixes almost nothing — because the model has no tonic in it at all, and below three raised sevenths in a passage the extra states are worth exactly zero.
The part of the error a key cannot touch
Four earlier essays turn one dial — the correlation between two notes' pitch errors — and apply it to the whole of a note's limen. Half of that limen is not the listener's: a note of finite length does not carry its frequency more finely than 1/2T, and no context can put information into a signal that is not there. So the correlation has a ceiling, it is 0.21 at a quarter-second note at A4 and 0.07 at A2, and the figure that prices a correlation of one half is drawn where one half is unavailable.
A short note is heard more in tune than it is
Four earlier essays treat a key as something that reduces the noise in a pitch judgement. Treat it instead as a prior and the prediction changes kind: not a smaller error but a systematic bias, pulling a short note toward the nearest scale degree by an amount the Fourier bound sets. Thirty cents out of tune on an eighth-of-a-second note is heard as eight. And the part the debt got wrong is the part that matters — the bias does not vanish on a long note. It stops at 17 per cent at A4 and at 48 per cent at A2, because the likelihood's width has a floor that no duration removes.
A tonic bought with the function
Putting the measured probe-tone profile inside the ordered key-finder is one term, and it does what was predicted: the natural-minor passage is named A minor at every bar instead of C major. It also does two things nobody predicted. It renames a scheme that has been read in the wrong key at every bar since the day it was written, and it destroys the chord's function while it is buying the key.
An interval is two posteriors subtracted
Treating a key as a prior over one note predicts that an interval's pull is not the single-note pull doubled, because the two degrees are not equally weighted. Half of that is wrong: splitting a mistuning between the two notes gives exactly the mean of what each end gives alone, to a thousandth, at every one of the twenty-one intervals in the scale. What is not the mean is which end carries it — and the pull turns out to be largest not on the shortest notes but on notes of about an eighth of a second, where the likelihood is a quarter of a semitone wide.
Which end the mistuning is on
Twenty-one intervals in the major scale, each with two ends, and the same twenty-five cents reaches a listener at anywhere between 32 and 79 per cent of its size depending on which of the two notes carries it. The most lopsided is the tonic to the leading note, where a departure on the upper note arrives two and a half times as strongly as the same departure on the lower. Two mechanisms produce it and they can be separated by one flag: two thirds of the asymmetry is register and one third is the key.
The setting is not the preference
Every published number for an interval listeners prefer — the pure third a quartet is said to find, the raised leading note, the harmonic seventh — is a value somebody adjusted until it sounded right. A listener adjusting inside a key is adjusting through the posterior computed just before, so the value they stopped at is not the one they preferred: it is the one whose heard size equals it. On quarter-second notes the correction for a pure major third is 12.8 cents, which is nearly a syntonic comma and is larger than the 13.7-cent preference it corrects.
A boundary beside a fifth
A closed form established earlier says an n-category division costs n·σ·√(2/π) whatever the widths are, so a boundary costs the same wherever it is put and the step pattern cannot matter. Its own last section named the assumption that produces the null: one σ, applied to every boundary in the octave. Let σ follow how securely each interval is held and the formula becomes a sum over boundaries rather than n copies of one — the diatonic's error rises from 5.1 per cent to 11.8, and where the degrees are put matters again.
The best seven of the twelve
Once the noise is allowed to differ from boundary to boundary, a scale can be chosen to minimise identification error — and the choice is a search over four hundred and sixty-two sets rather than an argument. Run, it returns a cluster of semitones around the tonic and around the fifth, and puts the diatonic major at rank 376 of 462, in the worse fifth of the ranking. A criterion whose optimum is a scale nobody has ever played is a criterion that is not what scales are chosen for, and the reason it fails is legible in the model rather than in the music.
The unequal scale that is easier to name
The whole of the earlier result was that a scale's step pattern cannot matter, and every tradition it drew agreed with the equal division of its own size to three decimal places. With one noise per boundary the comparison is live again, and the tempered diatonic beats seven equal steps by eleven per cent — while the pentatonics gain nothing and the maqam scales gain two tenths of one per cent. Only one of the two security models produces the effect, and it is the one that was not measured on listeners raised inside the tradition it is being used to explain.
Two cues meet in a corner
The profile finds a key's tonic and the bass finds a chord's degree, and until now each was swept with the other held at nothing. Swept together across 42 settings, the plane they make is not the ridge that was predicted. The tonic is a step in one direction, at a profile share of 0.55, and the bass cannot move it; the degree is a slope in the other, rising to 89 per cent as the bass is weighted, and the profile barely touches it. Every question is answered only in a corner of the plane — and the one place the two cues overlap is the one piece of music both can rescue.
A bass line is not a list of roots
Every bass note the key-finder has been given was its chord's root, and under that line a bass cue reads 89 per cent of scheme bars on the right degree. Give the same chords an economical bass that moves to the nearest chord tone, as a keyboard reduction would, and nearly half of them are inverted. The cue that rewards the triad rooted on the bass then reads 68 per cent at best and worse as it is trusted more; the cue that rewards any triad containing the bass cannot be fooled and stops at 61. The same inverted line does one thing the roots never did: it puts the leading note of each new key at the bottom, and finds the rondo's modulations.
The tempo moves a scale further than the touch
A gamelan is played two ways on the same bars: a saron's are damped as the next is struck and a gendèr's ring over their resonators. That decision moves a slendro's standing among random scales of its size by up to seventeen percentile points, which is real. Over the tempo levels a piece actually moves through it moves by fifty-four — from the twenty-ninth percentile at a fast elaboration to the eighty-third at a slow one. The same five pitches on the same bars are a smoother-than-average scale and a rougher-than-average one, and which depends on how fast they are played.
The scale belongs to the ringing instrument
A gamelan plays two instruments on one scale at once — a saron damped at every stroke and a gendèr several times faster with its bars left to ring — and a quarter of the roughness a listener receives falls on pairs that cross between them, which no figure had computed. The cross pairs turn out to be no worse than either stream's own. What decides the scale's standing is the fast part: the ensemble sits at the sixth percentile among random five-note scales and so does the ringing instrument alone, while the damped one alone sits at the ninety-sixth.
Given the bar in octaves, the degree comes back
A bass note is a bare pitch class in the usual figure, and a register in any realisation anybody plays. Voice each bar in octaves and a listener knows which three pitch classes are sounding and which is at the bottom, which names the chord outright — and the rule that uses it reads the right scale degree in 92 per cent of bars on a real bass line, against 68 for the published cue on the same line and 89 for that cue on a line made entirely of roots. The question was whether the register recovers the 89. It recovers it and passes it.
A sharper cue is worth nothing to a reading that moves
The rule that names the chord outright reads 92 per cent of scale degrees right where the published bass cue reads 68 — at the key cost these readings have always been run at. Sweep that cost and the advantage is not a property of the cue. Where a change of key is cheap the sharp rule reads 46 per cent and the vaguest rule 47, because a reading that will move key on one bar's evidence follows a sharp cue wherever it points. The cue's whole value is borrowed from the model's reluctance to be moved.
The two parameters turn out to have a ceiling between them
The essay before this one asked whether the bass cue's weight and the cost of changing key are one quantity with two names, and said the test was a contour: if they multiply, the curves of equal degree share are hyperbolae. They are not. Along the ninety per cent contour the product of the two runs from 2.7 to 15.2, because past a bass weight of about one and a half the reading saturates and more cue buys nothing. And the sweep finds something no single-parameter sweep here could: the key cost has a best value, and a reading that will never change key is worse than one that will.
The ceiling is thirteen bars with names
The key-finder's two cues stop buying anything at about 93 per cent of scheme bars read right, and the obvious suspect was the chord segmentation feeding it. The reading was never given a segmentation: every bar arrives with its true chord. What the ceiling is made of can be listed instead, and it is thirteen bars of 188 — seven in a bridge of secondary dominants, four in a minor episode whose chords C major also owns, and two at the edges of a modulation. No weight of any cue moves one of them.
A wrong bar beats the same on either instrument
The ringing instrument carries a gamelan scale's standing, so a tuning error on it was predicted to cost more than the same error on the damped instrument. Put in the beating the model lacked, and the prediction fails: moved ten cents, a degree costs the same 0.85 summed over the scale on either instrument, because almost all of the cost is the wrong bar beating against the right one on the other instrument, and a beat belongs to both of the bars that make it. Moving a whole instrument costs exactly what its five degrees cost separately, and it takes nothing from the scale's standing.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Difference limenKey-findingProbe-toneCentsCategorical perceptionIntonationModulationTonal hierarchyEnumerationIntervalJust intonationJust-noticeable difference