Keep the Change!

In praise of one-chord songs

In the twelve-tone scale, there are 4,096 chords to choose from. Direction, resolution, surprise: these effects are created by putting chords in succession, not repeating them over and over. Yet some of my favorite songs don’t change at all, at least not harmonically. They lock into a single chord and stay there.

Writing a one-chord song might seem like a ridiculous and self-defeating constraint to establish. But in practice, it’s a challenge that demands invention through rhythm, phrasing, timbre, and, of course, groove. As we know from Dogme 95 in film, Oulipo in literature, and whoever built Fenway Park in architecture, constraint is the engine of creativity.

Anyway, when the groove is right, why modulate, pivot, or progress? Change sometimes only breaks the spell. Here’s a playlist of some of my favorite one-chord songs: hypnotic, minimal, groove-forward tracks that prove sometimes the best direction is no direction at all. Not included on this list is anything by Fela Kuti (because where would you even start), James Brown (because of the bridges), or anything in the Indian classical tradition (because I just don’t know enough about it). Click on the titles to cue the song in YouTube, or scroll to the end for a Spotify playlist that includes dozens more one-chorders.

“Sister Mamie,” Yusef Lateef, from Live at Pep’s
A massively meditative funk groove, which Lateef shreds over on a shehnai(!) applying a snarling, glissando vibrato that sounds borderline metal. It’s spiritual and searing, and makes you want to get up and dance. If you only listen to one song from this playlist, make it this one.

“Black Cherry,” William Parker & Hamid Drake, from Piercing the Veil
I remember seeing Parker and Drake play this song in someone’s apartment in Park Slope, Brooklyn, in the late ‘90s. I was absolutely, positively transfixed by it, as I am every time I hear this studio recording (which is only available on CD). A relentless, meditative 7/4 groove with some seriously inventive playing from Drake, especially.

“Fantasia on Which Side Are You On?,” Charlie Byrd, from Charlie Byrd at the Village Vanguard
Many Charlie Byrd records have a track like this: an extended modal raga that you can’t fathom being written and performed by the dorky white bald guy on the cover. But don’t be fooled: this dork is a psychonaut in disguise, and this is his deepest (and longest) voyage! A sprawling, 20-minute groove guaranteed to hypnotize.

“The Pink Room,” Angelo Badalamenti, from Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me
This one-chorder from Fire Walk With Me—and the scene that it plays behind—is the stuff of nightmares. It’s David Lynch at his darkest (which is obviously saying a lot). It perfectly scores Laura Palmer’s descent, as she dares Donna to follow her to the dark side. A bowed bass circles the same sleazy, suffocating pattern again and again, piling dread on top of sleaze on top of dread.

“Meet Me in the City,” Junior Kimbrough, from You Better Run: The Essential Junior Kimbrough
I’m not sure if I love hill country blues because of how many great one-chorders there are in the genre, or if I love one-chorders thanks to hearing so many great hill country blues. This one is languid, soulful, and also forlorn: when I hear it I want to reach through the speakers and give the poor singer a hug.

“Sufur,” Rufus Harley, from Scotch & Soul
Bagpipes over a one-chord vamp? Yes please!

“Doin’ That Thing,” Les McCann, from Much Les
What would this playlist be without Les McCann, a master one-chorder? This one is less known than “Burnin’ Coal” but it’s just as groovy: an unending organ funk jam that smolders without catching fire, with great orchestration and improvising from Les.

“Rollin’ & Tumblin’,” Elmore James, from Shake Your Money Maker
Every version I’ve ever heard of this song (including the original) is done as a traditional I-IV-V blues. In this version—the best version, in my opinion—Elmore and the band lock into a hypnotic, locomotive rhythm and never bother to leave it. No detours, no IV chord, no bridge, just a raw and righteous groove that . . . rolls and tumbles.

“Improvisation for Unaccompanied Saxophones,” Al Cohn & Zoot Sims, from You ‘N Me
Just two horns riffing without a net over a minimal repeating pattern. Cohn and Sims trade roles, with one anchoring a looping riff, the other spiraling outward in sly, searching variations. The effect is part Steve Reich (with a skipping-record hypnosis), part Remain in Light (thanks to the sly modulations and layered tension). Mesmerizing.

“Nightmare,” Artie Shaw, from Ultimate Big Band Collection
A big band noir and the oldest track on this list (and arguably the best known). A one-chord funeral march that is a slow-burning menace of a track.

“Jungle Pipe,” Buddy Collette, from Man of Many Parts
I wrote about this earlier on a post about my most played records this year. Among what’s wonderful about it is the fact that it’s a one-chorder!

“Back Woods Song,” John Abercrombie, Dave Holland, Jack DeJohnette, from Gateway
Strictly speaking, this song shouldn’t be on this list, since for a very brief moment (for nine seconds of a nearly eight-minute-long song), Abercrombie plays a bluesy little riff that prompts Holland to abandon his tonic post. But I’m including it anyway, because it’s otherwise such an exceptional one-chorder. Holland lays down a thick, head-nodding vamp while DeJohnette plays a rhythm that’s both funky and featherlight. Abercrombie floats above it all, contorting fluid, melodic lines punctuated by ghostly harmonics that pop off like distant fireworks.

“La Nevada,” The Gil Evans Orchestra, from Out of the Cool
I’m convinced Evans did this on a dare: can you conduct a big band playing a single mode for 15 minutes, with no formal melody or harmonic progression, and still keep it compelling? Evans succeeds through clever orchestration and an all-star cast. Elvin Jones lays down a hypnotic beat that stays just behind the spotlight while Ron Carter, MVP, plays every conceivable combination of notes in whatever that chord is, subjecting himself to a mental and physical endurance piece to back this swirling, evolving soundscape.

“Shim Wa,” The Dave Brubeck Quartet, from Time Changes
A psychedelic one-chord waltz in which Joe Morello emphasizes the 2, 4, and 6 (instead of the 2 and 3), giving the song a curious counter-pulse. It’s a lot of fun! Weirdly, it’s the only track on this playlist that isn’t on YouTube.

“Chung King,” Herb Ellis & Charlie Byrd, from Guitar/Guitar
Charlie Byrd is the only person to appear twice on this list, an honor well-deserved for his ability to find so much to do with so little. Here he is locking in with Herb Ellis in a hypnotic, bosa-esque groove that highlights their highly contrasting sounds and styles.

“Flo Me La,” Nina Simone, from Nina at Newport
A sloppy affair with lyrics that consist entirely of the phrase “Flo, flo, flo me la” repeated ad nauseam, a vibe that’s more jam session than song, and a percussion break that might have been recorded in a kindergarten. But man, what a primal groove. According to the liner notes, Flo Me La is based on an “authentic African song” that originated as a chant by safari porters to pace their walking. It means “To Walk,” or “Walking Along,” which is exactly what this song does for nearly seven minutes. It’s loose, raw, hypnotic, and captivating.

“Dig Her Walk,” Young-Holt Unlimited, from The Definitive Young-Holt Unlimited
Pure strut. The most surprising discovery I made in researching the tracks on this list is the fact that from what I can tell, this song has never been sampled. Take a listen and you’ll hear why this is so surprising!

“Kush,” Dizzy Gillespie, from Swing Low, Sweet Cadillac
At around the three-minute mark, this song casts its spell. The bass sets up a fast and furious six-bar vamp that becomes the unshakable foundation for an improvization marathon. Gillespie, James Moody on tenor, and finally Mike Longo on piano take turns soloing over the groove, which Frank Schifano (bass) and Otis Candy Finch Jr. (drums) manage to play without flinching for another 13 minutes. By the time it’s done your neck will hurt from nodding.

“Show Biz Kids,” Steely Dan, from Countdown to Ecstasy
You probably didn’t expect to see the Dan here; after all, Steely Dan is known primarily for their insanely cool and innovative chord changes. “Show Biz Kids” is thus a rare outlier in their catalog: a single-chord vamp that stews in a sleazy, sardonic groove. Built around a hypnotic vibraphone loop (played by Victor Feldman!) and a slide guitar riff, the song is highly minimalist by Dan standards, evoking the attitude of the kids who “don’t give a fuck about anybody else.”