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Hack Music Theory

Hack Music Theory

By: Ray Harmony
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The unorthodoX thoughts of multi award-winning music lecturer Ray Harmony. Older episodes were co-hosted by his wife and protégé Kate Harmony. As a songwriter and producer, Ray has made music with Grammy winners and multiplatinum artists, including Serj Tankian (System Of A Down) and Tom Morello (Rage Against The Machine). Join over 255,000 YouTube subscribers learning the fast, easy, and fun way to make music without using AI, cos it ain't no fun getting a robot to write “your” songs! Download Ray's free book at HackMusicTheory.com© 2026 Revolution Harmony Music
Episodes
  • Making Music Is Bad for Your Mental Health.
    Jul 17 2026
    Making Music Is Bad for Your Mental Health. Songs need listeners, but most people are too busy scrolling nowadays. You’ve just finished a new song. You love it! You’re beyond thrilled. You can’t wait for people to hear it, so you excitedly upload it and click publish. And you wait. And you wait some more. Then you refresh. Maybe it just needed a refresh. No. Still nothing. Ah! There’s a notification now. Jack192837465 gave it a thumbs up! But, your song is five minutes long, and you uploaded it three minutes ago, so Jack192837465 couldn’t have listened to the whole song. Well maybe he’s loving it so much that he couldn’t help himself and simply had to hit that Like button mid-song. If he’s enjoying it that much, he’ll definitely leave a comment after he’s finished listening to the song. Definitely. So you wait. And you wait some more. Then you refresh. Maybe it just needed a refresh. No. Still nothing. After another half an hour, you close your laptop and go eat chocolate. You’re defeated. What’s the point? Songs need listeners, but most people are too busy scrolling nowadays. And even if they do listen, they’re not paying attention, they’re just playing your song in the background while they scroll. And that, my dear friend, is why making music is bad for your mental health. Technically speaking, it’s not the making music that’s the bad thing, it’s the sharing it with a world that doesn’t value music anymore. And to be clear. When asked, people will say they value music, but their actions say the opposite. And always listen to people’s actions, not their words. Because their actions reveal their true values. Remember that. Actions reveal values. Subscribe to get the latest posts in your inbox. It seems that the first principle of philosophy in this brave new world is: “I scroll, therefore I am”. Any time the smartphone user is not scrolling, they feel like they don’t exist, or maybe they feel that the world doesn’t exist, or something like that. I don’t know, I deleted all my social media accounts 11 years ago, so I don’t scroll. The bottom line is this: If you do choose to share your music, then don’t expect people to give it their attention. That’s exclusively reserved for their phones. The best you can hope for is that people listen to your music in the background while they scroll. That’s it. But how horrible is that? And it’s okay to admit it. We pour our heart and soul and mind into making a song (or a painting, a piece of writing, a garden, or whatever art you create), and then we share it with the world, only to be told through their actions that they can’t even give our creation five minutes of their attention. The world’s indifference to our creation is a form of rejection. And it hurts. A lot. Indifference is arguably a worse type of rejection than someone not liking our music, because indifference leaves us with no hope, whereas rejection leaves us with the hope that people might like something we create in the future. It’s vital to be gentle and compassionate to your inner artist in these situations, because rejection activates the same part of our brain as physical pain. The hurt is real. Rejection feels painful, precisely because it is painful, in the most literal way. Subscribe to get the latest posts in your inbox. So what’s the solution? A time machine. Then we can all go back to before the smartphone zombie apocalypse. Remember when people actually walked around looking up? And even better than that, when people used to drive their cars and look at the road, instead of their phones. Aaah… those were the good ol’ days! Okay, so while we wait for someone to invent a time machine, how do we cope with this rejection in the meantime? Great question. And please do let me know if you figure it out. I’m all ears! The only partial solution I can currently think of to prevent this rejection, is to avoid the cause of it. In other words, don’t share your music. Or share it, but don’t expect any response. The only thing you should expect is indifference. That second option is way more difficult, though. Maybe impossible. I don’t know. Everyone’s different. Maybe you can share your music and not expect a response. I certainly can’t. The indifference is just too painful. A few years ago it sent me into depression, which I’m still struggling with. That’s why I took a break from making music, and focused my creativity on writing about music instead. But now, thanks to AI, it turns out that people no longer value writing either. So I’m currently thinking of becoming a baker. People still value bread, right? Well for now, at least. Subscribe to get the latest posts in your inbox. Anyway, I’d love to know how you’re coping with the pain of releasing songs into a world that doesn’t value music anymore, so please let me know in the comments. And if you’re one of the last remaining ...
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    7 mins
  • Life in a ‘90s Grunge Band.
    May 27 2026
    Life in a ‘90s Grunge Band. Comparing the music world of 1996 to 2026. It’s 9pm. Friday night. December 20th, 1996. Cape Town, South Africa. I walk out on stage. The air is thick with smoke from the fog machine and cigarettes, and probably something else too. A bright spotlight is in my face. The light’s hot. The weather’s hot. That middle-of-an-African-summer kinda hot. All I can see beyond the spotlight is a sea of people. The venue is sold out. In fact, it’s probably over capacity. We’re opening for South Africa’s biggest rock band, Springbok Nude Girls, who’d just signed a major label deal with Sony. But my band ROYD wasn’t far behind them, all thanks to the support of legendary DJ Barney Simon, who hosted the only rock show on national radio. His heavy rotation of our debut single led to it climbing up the national rock chart until it reached No. 1 just a few weeks before. To get there, we beat out Nirvana and Smashing Pumpkins. Recalling this makes it feel like a distant dream, but it was in fact, reality. And I was only a teenager. This was truly a dream come true. The roar of the crowd intensifies with every step I take towards the microphone. I swing my long hair to the side of my face and pretend I’m about to speak into the mic. The crowd quietens. In this silence, without warning, we launch into the heavy opening riff of our No. 1 single “Impression X”. They. Go. Crazy! The dancefloor instantly erupts into a dangerous (yet friendly) pit of hair-windmills, body-slams, and flying flannel shirts. Welcome to life in the ‘90s. Subscribe to get the latest posts in your inbox. Fast forward 29 years to December 2025. I get an email from the bassist, my best friend Rob Krammer, who now lives in Austria: “Dude, we should totally do something special next year to celebrate the 30-year anniversary of our debut release”. After the initial shock of realizing that three decades had somehow flown by, we decided that it would be awesome to get all our recordings re-mastered and re-released as one epic album. We excitedly emailed the drummer, my brother Tony Holroyd, who now lives in Japan. He’s one of those people who doesn’t show his excitement, though, or maybe he just doesn’t get excited, I don’t know. But after he revealed a sliver of enthusiasm, we knew we were onto a great idea! ROYD was formed in 1995 (out of the remains of a previous band) and broke up in 1999, when I moved to Los Angeles to study at Musicians Institute. In our four years together, we recorded one demo and four EPs. We went to record at Paris Studios once each year. And no, unfortunately it wasn’t in Paris. That was the name of the owner. But he was great, so we didn’t mind the fact that Paris was just down the road. Subscribe to get the latest posts in your inbox. Back to December 2025. So I got in touch with my favourite mastering engineer, Tony Lindgren, over at Fascination Street Studios in Sweden, to see if he was up for the job. He was, and his genius has not only revived these dusty old ‘90s recordings, but he’s masterfully brought them up-to-date with the big, loud, modern music industry, without compromising their old-school character though. You can hear the results for yourself on Spotify, Apple, or any other streaming platform, just search for ROYD - The ‘90s Recordings. Or if you’d like to download the album for free, then head on over to HackMusicTheory.com/Royd. ROYD • The ‘90s RecordingsCover art hand-drawn in 1996 by Ben Ludik and his ballpoint pen So coming back to the title of this post. What was life like in a ‘90s grunge band? In other words, how does the music industry of 30 years ago compare to now? Instead of focusing on all the obvious things, like recording to tape in the studio, or running a newsletter and fan club using snail mail, or selling CDs at shows, or playing in front of people who were actually looking at us (not their phones), instead of all that, I’m going to focus on the feeling that us musicians felt about life in the music industry back in the ‘90s. And what feeling was that? Hope. You see, the music industry back then was a hopeful place to be, because every year it was getting bigger and better as music continued to become a bigger part of our shared culture. The future was not only hopeful, it was expansive. Opportunities were increasing with every passing year. There was a shared belief that music was a vital part of our daily life. Subscribe to get the latest posts in your inbox. If you didn’t live through this era, then watch the movie “Singles” from 1992. It perfectly captures how important music was in our lives back then. And it’s a really good rom-com, too! And if you prefer your movies a bit sillier, then watch “Airheads” from 1994. It’s silly, yes, but it totally embodies that feeling of hope we all had back then. The future was bright. And music was arguably the biggest shared ...
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    13 mins
  • Creating Calm Through Song Structure.
    May 19 2026
    Creating Calm Through Song Structure. How to make a sonic sanctuary, like Tamikrest. My favourite Saharan rock band Tamikrest just released their new album “Assikel”, and I’ve had it on repeat this week. Why? Well firstly, this is a mesmerizing collection of songs that make me feel good. I can sense the warmth emanating from their laidback desert grooves. And considering it’s the middle of May and we’ve just had more snow here in Alberta, I’m well up for their hot Saharan vibes! Another reason I love this album is that it was recorded live in the studio, to analogue tape. That’s what I’m talkin’ about! It’s the only way to capture the magical synergy that’s created when a great band performs together. It’s been a rare method of recording since the 1950s, when multitrack recorders became common in studios. So for this reason alone, Tamikrest’s new album is worth a listen. But my favourite thing about “Assikel” is the unusual song structures. And that’s something we can all learn from this band. Their songs are not structured like regular songs, which switch back and forth between verse and chorus sections. When it’s done well, that switching is stimulating. But, the downside of being stimulated is that it’s the opposite of being relaxed. There’s nothing wrong with a coffee in the morning. But a coffee before bed? Well, that’s a very different story. Subscribe to get the latest posts in your inbox. And as our fast-paced modern world speeds up exponentially, the calm that Tamikrest’s non-switching song structures create is a sonic sanctuary. In the sizzling Sahara, it’s far too hot for stimulation. The wisdom of the desert invites us to sit in the shade. This shifts our attention to stillness, and awakens an idea that maybe we don’t need anything out there. Maybe it’s perfect right here in the shade. I was born and raised in South Africa, and I remember that feeling of being so hot that you’re forced to sit as still as possible, because any movement creates heat in your body, and that’s the last thing you need. So you sit still. Sweating and contemplating. Contemplating and sweating. Until the need for water outweighs the need for stillness, so you stretch out your arm, slowly, and reach for the drink. So here’s the songwriting hack that we can all learn from Tamikrest: Songs don’t always have to be journeys through different sections, they can instead be contemplative explorations of one section.Stillness is a sonic sanctuary. For all these reasons and more, I’ve got Tamikrest “Assikel” on repeat. I’d love to know what you have on repeat this week, so please let me know in the comments. And thanks for listening, my friend, you are very much appreciated here. Ray Harmony :) Donate. Help keep the Songwriter's Ark afloat. Photo by Mart Production About. Ray Harmony is a multi award-winning music lecturer, who’s made music with Serj Tankian (System Of A Down), Tom Morello (Rage Against The Machine), Steven Wilson (Porcupine Tree), Devin Townsend (Strapping Young Lad), Ihsahn (Emperor), Kool Keith (Ultramagnetic MCs), Madchild (Swollen Members), and more. Ray is also the founder of Hack Music Theory, a YouTube channel with over 10 million views and over 250,000 subscribers learning the fast, easy and fun way to make music without using AI, cos it ain’t no fun getting a robot to write “your” songs! Outro music by Ray Harmony, based on the music theory from GoGo Penguin "Everything Is Going to Be OK". Podcast. Listen below, or on any podcast app.
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    4 mins
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