On the art of finishing songs

Have you ever noticed how many of our songs feature a tag in which one part holds the last note of the melody (the ‘post’) for an inordinately long time, while the other three parts embellish it? This type of tag is a classic part of the barbershop style, and allows us to signal to our audiences that we have brought our song to a point of completion, or culmination.

Have you also noticed that there is an almost overwhelming compulsion to gasp in a frantic breath just before singing this final post? Why do we do this? Is it to signal to the audience that a long and difficult note is coming up? Or because we don’t trust ourselves not to expire before the end? Or simply because the rest of the section seems to be doing it, and we are in the habit of matching them as a matter of course?

Whatever the reason may have been in the past, though, it becomes as of now irrelevant. For we shall henceforth be instituting a new and sweeping artistic policy of singing straight through into the post. This will mean that leads will be singing, ‘the bloom from my wild Irish Rose,’ without a breath; the basses will be singing, ‘By and by,’ without a breath; and the tenors, ‘I love you so,’ similarly without a breath. And so on - I’m sure you can work out the ramifications for the rest of the repertoire from these examples.

There are sound artistic reasons for enacting this policy, which can be expressed from the perspectives of our three judging categories.

Music

to breathe before the post breaks the thread of melodic continuity, and displays the mechanics of the song’s construction instead of the artistry of its message.

Singing

snatching an extra breath actually gives you relatively little extra air to work with, but does introduce lots of extra tension into the voice, and leads to poor synchronisation within the section.

Presentation

snatching a breath signals to the audience that you are anxious about the last note, and invites them to share your anxiety rather than enjoying the song’s point of arrival.

And to put it in the holistic context of our chorus’s long-term aims: A-grade choruses do not gasp before a post, so if we wish to aspire to A-grade status, the sooner we break this habit, the better.

There is somebody reading this, I am sure, who is muttering, ‘Yes, I see the artistic merits of all this, but what if I run out of breath?’ To that person, I would say: ‘Cheat!’ For to maintain the vowel shape of the post while you briefly fade your sound out, refill your lungs, then fade back in again will, when deftly done, enhance the beauty of the song, as it leaves you relaxed and confident of playing your full part in supporting the song to the end. Whereas to try to sneak in an extra breath before the post starts is tantamount to admitting failure before you’ve even started.

So stand tall, sing through the phrase, and trust the song to carry you through to the end. And in so doing, you will be playing your part in carrying Anvil Chorus up to the next artistic level.

Liz Garnett,  October 2001