Perfect Pitch, explained

I have perfect pitch.  Perfect pitch is the ability to hear a note and tell exactly what the pitch is.  Good musicians can develop relative pitch, where you can tell what a pitch is given a reference point.  This is not the same.  Many people have relative pitch, but only about 1 in 10,000 have perfect pitch (or so I’m told).  There is lots of mystery surrounding perfect pitch, so I’m going to deconstruct what it’s like for me.

1.      What is the phenomenon like?

The analogy I use is the perception of color.  When you look at a wall, can you tell me what color it is?  Of course.  That’s an absurd question to ask, right?  When you play me a note, I can tell you what pitch it is.  It really is that simple.  No deep thought required.  For me, the real question is not why I have perfect pitch; it’s why everyone else DOESN’T have it.  The fact that people can identify colors on a wall but not a pitch from an instrument is plain weird to me.

There are some nuances to perfect pitch.  There is an element of familiarity.  I can identify pitches the best when they are played on my native instrument (the trumpet).  I sometimes have difficulty identifying pitches from guitars or vocalists.  Also, there are different degrees of perfect pitch.  Some people can tell you (down to the cents or hertz) how sharp or flat the pitch is.  I cannot do this.  I can only tell you a note letter name…and maybe take an educated guess as to whether it’s sharp or flat. 

2.      How do people react to you having it?

In order, from most common to least common:

Some people, especially music majors and other musicians, look at me like I’m a dirty cheater.  “Ear training class must have been easy for you, huh? *snort* I hate you!”  I wince out of self-defense when these people find out I have it. 

Others treat me like a pet monkey or a freak in a circus show.  “You have perfect pitch?  No waaaaay!  Hey, what’s this note?  *sings a horrifically loud note*  Ooo, what about this one?”

A few are astounded and fascinated by it.  They think I’m a wizard or something…maybe I am…

3.      Nature or nurture?

This is a long standing argument in the academic field.  Basically, the consensus is still split.  I’ve seen a theory that says perfect pitch has to do with the sensitivity of little hairs (called cilia…they are related to pitch perception) that are on the cochlea in your ear.  I’ve also seen a theory that says certain cultures have a greater chance of having perfect pitch because some languages have more subtle changes in pitch than others (thereby requiring one to fine tune their pitch perception).  I’m not sure if I was born with it or not.  One thing I’m personally sure about: it is not entirely genetic.  At some level, there has to be some training involved.  Proof?  As I mentioned  above, I recognize trumpet pitches faster than any other pitches.  If I was born with it, the source of the pitch wouldn’t matter at all.  For me, it does.  That cannot be caused by genetics…only training.

4.      What are the benefits?

I have a dang good ear.  I had a 14 track CD of Nintendo songs when I was young.  In 6th grade, I sat down and transcribed every single melody from every song on that CD by ear.  Although it was still difficult for me, jazz improvisation came quicker for me than others.  So did composition. 

Perhaps the greatest thing it did for me was expand my appreciation for music.  Instruments aren’t the only thing that have a pitch.  I can perceive the pitches of car horns, buzzing electric transformers, and two pieces of metal struck together.  I was quick to realize the interaction between everyday noises in our environment and music.  At the risk of sounding corny, it was a very cosmic realization for me.  As a result, Edgard Varese quickly became a hero of mine.  As did John Cage.  The ambient music of Brian Eno strongly resonated with me the first time I heard it.  Most of the electronic music I compose is heavily ambient and has lots of field recordings in it.

5.      What are the detriments?

There are more than you think.  Here is something I don’t do.  I don’t get all pissed off when people miss notes or when things are out of tune.  Some people with perfect pitch do, but I don’t mind that at all. 

Here is something that bugs me though: it doesn’t always help me play my instrument better.  Perfect pitch is all mental.  Playing an instrument requires physical skill as well.  Just because I can hear/hum the pitch does not mean I can play it.

Relative pitch was initially a very tough thing for me.  I would pick out specific note names instead of listening for general intervals and key centers.  With training, I’ve sort of overcome this…sort of.  For example, if you sing a melody line I still can’t easily sing a harmony over it.  I have to think hard about what notes you are singing, then mathematically figure out what specific pitches I need to sing to harmonize.

Transposition is incredibly funky for me.  Since trumpet is my native instrument, I hear everything in the key of Bb since the trumpet is pitched in that key.  So when you play C on piano, my initial gut reaction is to say “that’s a D”, but I have to quickly transpose in my head to get back to C.  This comes lightning quick to me now though.  Just the same, playing different keyed instruments is a chore for me.

Most people can go between Bb and C trumpets.  Since the fingerings are the same, they can just read the music on the page and put down the right fingers.  Not me.  My ear kicks in and gets in the way.  When I do a certain fingering, I’m expecting a certain note to come out of the end of the bell.  I finger an open C, but I hear a D come out.  Madness ensues.  What I literally have to do is think in two different streams of thought.  One part of my brain has to look at the sheet music and tell me which fingers to put down.  The other part of my brain has to mentally transpose the music in order to match the note I see with the note I hear.  Your brain hurting yet?

6.      That’s it!

There you go.  All the ins and outs of perfect pitch.  Hope that demystified it a little bit for ya.  So from now on please stop thinking I’m a freak.  And don’t ask me what musical pitch you just farted.