The Pattern-Based Paradigm: What Music Teaches Us About Everything
I've been studying music for years now:jazz harmony, compositional techniques, improvisational structures. Not just to play better, but because something about music kept pointing me toward a bigger idea.
Music is humanity's most direct engagement with pattern. It makes audible what's usually invisible: the architectures that organize everything.
Patterns are elements organizing themselves into sequences. Repetition, evolution, connection. Once you start seeing them in music, you can't stop seeing them everywhere else.
Music as Pattern Laboratory
Study jazz harmony long enough and you start recognizing the same organizing principles everywhere. A ii-V-I progression follows rules that also govern how galaxies form, how organisms grow, how civilizations rise and fall.
Take melodic development. You start with a motif:three or four notes. It doesn't stay put. It repeats, transforms, inverts. Shows up in different keys, different rhythmic variations. The motif is both constant and changing. Identity and evolution at the same time.
Natural cycles work the same way. Seasons repeat, but never identically. Each winter carries memory of previous winters while bringing something new. Repetition and renewal, pattern and variation.
Rhythm is the most fundamental pattern:where time itself becomes organized, physical. Before melody, before harmony: pulse. Heartbeat. Breath. Footstep.
Joe Boyd's "And the Roots of Rhythm Remain" gets at something essential. Musical traditions constantly evolve through cross-cultural exchange:Sinatra influenced by Argentine tango, Gilberto inventing bossa nova through cultural collision. But certain rhythmic foundations persist. Not as pure, unchanging essences. As generative patterns that travel, adapt, recombine. The clave rhythm migrates from West Africa to Cuba to New York to global pop, remaining recognizable yet constantly transformed.
Pattern at its most elemental: rhythm shows us patterns are never truly pure or static. They're dynamic forces maintaining identity while enabling infinite variation. A 4/4 beat manifests as a march, a funk groove, a techno pulse, a jazz swing. Same underlying pattern, completely different feel.
In jazz you see rhythmic patterns operating at multiple scales simultaneously. The basic pulse. The swing subdivision sitting between straight eighths and triplets. Syncopation creating tension against the pulse. Polyrhythms layering different patterns on top of each other. Each level follows its own logic while relating to all the others.
Complex systems work this way: nested patterns, each with its own rhythm, all synchronized yet independent.
I was listening to Émile Parisien's "Let Them Cook" recently, paying attention to structure. Long intro building from silence to melody on a pedal. Sparse unison phrases blending with improvisation. Bass patterns shifting octaves while maintaining their core identity. These aren't arbitrary choices:they mirror how complex systems self-organize in nature. Starting from simplicity, building complexity through iteration, maintaining coherence through repetition of core elements.
The Universal Language of Sequences
Hermann Hesse understood something about this in "The Glass Bead Game": "Music means harmony, harmony means perfect proportion, and perfect proportion is the essence of being and truth itself."
Maybe that's overstating it. But music did teach us to measure, subdivide, analyze, experiment. More fundamentally: it taught us to recognize pattern.
Schoenberg's twelve-tone technique is a perfect example of pattern-based thinking. Use all twelve chromatic notes in sequence before any can repeat. The row can be played backwards (retrograde), flipped (inversion), backwards and flipped (retrograde inversion). What emerges isn't chaos:it's a different kind of order. One based on transformation rather than hierarchy.
This is how proteins fold. How DNA replicates. How cities grow. How power consolidates and disperses. Patterns transforming through well-defined rules, creating emergent complexity from simple elements.
Cycles Within Cycles
Working on collaborative music projects, I kept noticing the same cycle: inspiration, collaboration, creation, release. Then it begins again, each iteration informed by the previous one.
But these aren't just human-scale phenomena. Empires rise and fall through identifiable phases. Growth and integration. Peak and golden age. Complication and decadence. Decline and disintegration. The Roman Empire, the Ottoman Empire, the British Empire:similar patterns, not because history mechanically repeats itself, but because pattern is how complex systems organize through time.
Natural cycles. The moon's pull on tides creates rhythms that living organisms internalize. Predator-prey populations oscillate in predictable waves. Chemical reactions reach equilibrium through repeated oscillations.
I wrote once about creative cycles: "We don't fight this endless resequencing between inspiration and output. We attune ourselves to the patterns, honoring the lulls as much as the zeniths. The tide always returns, brimming with rich new creative potential:as long as we're attuned to the elemental cadences of the universal rhythm."
That might sound mystical but it's practical. You can't force the creative cycle any more than you can force spring to arrive early.
The Architecture of Connection
Music makes connections audible in a way nothing else does.
When Coltrane transformed "My Favorite Things" from a simple show tune into a 13-minute exploratory odyssey, he didn't add harmonic complexity:he did something more radical. Stripped the song down to a modal vamp. Essentially two chords: E minor and E major. Vastly increased the tempo. Extended the improvisational sections.
What he revealed: profound depth can emerge from simplicity rather than complexity. Pattern exploration doesn't require elaborate structures:it requires deep engagement with essential elements. He took what seemed simple and revealed infinite possibilities within it.
This is what studying patterns does. It reveals hidden architecture.
In jazz you learn about guide tone lines:the 3rds and 7ths of chords that create essential harmonic movement. The skeleton beneath the flesh of the music. Any complex system has guide tones: essential elements defining the pattern, around which everything else elaborates.
In organisms, maybe the HOX genes defining body plans. In organizations, core values and power structures. In language, grammatical rules allowing infinite variation within recognizable form.
Evolution Through Repetition
One of the most important lessons music teaches: evolution happens through repetition with variation.
A jazz improviser practicing melodic development takes a simple motif and explores it. Repetition in different octaves. Transposition to different scale degrees. Rhythmic variation. Intervallic inversion. Each iteration maintains relationship to the original while becoming something new.
AlphaFold solved protein folding this way:recognizing patterns in how amino acid sequences have folded across millions of years of evolution, then learning to predict folding for new sequences. Pattern recognition plus transformation rules equals prediction.
The same principle appears everywhere:
Markets oscillate around trend lines with predictable deviations
Species evolve through repeated generations with variation and selection
Languages change through repeated use with gradual drift
Social movements follow similar trajectories: emergence, growth, peak, transformation
Not deterministic. But patterned.
Pattern as Power
Understanding patterns isn't just intellectual. It's power.
Those who recognize patterns in markets make fortunes. Those who recognize patterns in social dynamics shape movements. Those who recognize patterns in technology drive innovation. Those who recognize patterns in music create art that resonates across cultures and generations.
Herbie Hancock doesn't just think about chord progressions when he composes. He thinks about voicings, colors, textures. Uses quartal harmony:stacks of fourths instead of traditional thirds:creating that open, modern sound. He understands the same harmonic content can manifest completely differently depending on how you organize it.
True of power structures. Of organizations. Of ideas. The pattern matters, but so does the voicing.
The Paradigm Shift
Here's what studying music has taught me: we live in a pattern-based paradigm whether we recognize it or not.
The universe self-organizes. From quantum fields to galactic clusters, from chemical reactions to ecosystems, from neural networks to social systems:everything follows patterns. Elements organize into sequences. Sequences involve repetition. Repetition enables evolution. Evolution creates connections. Connections create new patterns.
Music makes this audible. Gives us direct, embodied experience of pattern-based organization. When you improvise over changes, you're not just making sounds:you're navigating a complex system of relationships, making split-second decisions about which patterns to follow, transform, juxtapose.
This skill:pattern navigation:might be the fundamental skill. It applies to music, yes. But also:
Scientific discovery (recognizing patterns in data)
Business strategy (recognizing patterns in markets)
Personal development (recognizing patterns in behavior)
Social change (recognizing patterns in collective action)
Technological innovation (recognizing patterns in possibilities)
Maybe I'm overstating. But once you start seeing it, it's hard to stop.
Living in Pattern
The most profound realization, though, is this: we're not separate from patterns. We are patterns.
Your heartbeat is a pattern. Your breathing. Your thoughts emerging from neural patterns. Your habits are behavioral patterns. Your relationships follow emotional patterns. Your life moves through developmental patterns.
And like in music, the question isn't whether to follow patterns:you always do. The question is: which patterns will you attune to? Which will you amplify? Which will you transform?
Music teaches that mastery comes from knowing patterns so deeply you can play with them. A jazz master knows harmony rules so thoroughly they can break them in ways that create new beauty. They understand patterns are both constraint and possibility. Both limitation and liberation.
I'm still learning this. Recognizing that everything flows through patterns. That patterns can be learned. That learning patterns grants agency. That agency allows transformation.
Music is just where this becomes most obvious. Most beautiful. Most directly experiential.
But once you see it in music, you see it everywhere.
The universe is music, maybe. Patterns all the way down:and all the way up.
The Musical Bet
Musicians of all levels and walks of life share a secret. Whatever instrument you play or genre of music you like, music opens up a world of marvel, a total experience of the senses and of the soul.
Music is invisible, has no smell nor taste and cannot be touched. Music is in fact (as in factually) impossible to describe to someone who hasn't experienced it (try explaining Beethoven's 5th symphony to your dog). Its effect on the human brain, body and mind is universal, and still mostly undiscovered.
Music lives in a space of pure abstraction that humans have organized, theorized and studied endlessly, and from which they have extracted incredible beauty. No other human artistic medium can raise your consciousness of the world through an invisible veil of harmony and beauty like music does. Studying, practicing, or playing music is to shift into a paradigm of infinite possibilities. The mind, the body and the soul fuse to create something, out of nothing. A sound followed by another starts a vast potential of logics, yet a sound played simultaneously with another opens up infinity. All this for the sake of beauty.
Is this not, perhaps, the secret? Music is a passport to a place that cannot be described if you haven't showed up at the gate. And like master saxophonist Wayne Shorter says, "Life is the only time you have for an eternal adventure."
For the sake of the argument, let's say that music has been created by humans in basically two ways: individually or in small groups. Bach wrote his music alone for many to play and experience, while The Beatles shared their ideas together and finalized their songs and albums through the band collaborative process. The genius was inside of them of course, while also between them. What if the "between" was taken to the next level?
We are exploring a third way.
A space for musicians, producers, arrangers, poets, artists and music fans to create collectively. But there is a catch. A game actually. Like the old game of "cadavres exquis" where a sentence is offered to be continued by the next player, we start with one musical idea from which musicians and producers can build. We push the creative concept to its simplistic pure sense. With everwave, music is made collaboratively between people who, in most cases, don't know each other. We create what we call Waves—a succession of musical versions, where producers and musicians add to each other's work. The musical piece grows in length and density until the contributors collectively decide to end it.
The music we wish to create has the form of a growing organism that is nourished and shaped by musicians and producers, in real time, for all to listen and contribute to. This creative game is being played out on a scale and format that is utterly different from what we are used to as music makers or listeners, and your decision to contribute is mostly based on what you are hearing, not on an "outside of music" consideration. You trust your fellow contributors and producers of the wave to be inspired by your musical ideas and use your contribution creatively. You share your inspiration to create inspiration that inspires you. You gift your art to a greater purpose and join a community of creators willing to be part of this global musical object.
The final result is unknown. There is no map to our serendipitous voyage. Our bet is to discover new musical territories throughout the process. What if a balafon player from Burkina Faso records over a flamenco guitar from Madrid, while a Los Angeles producer mixes it with drum and bass? As expansions of the original idea come to life, directions in music can change radically. The same balafon might become a background melody in an Indian meditative raga, the drum and bass version can turn into a Cuban rumba and so on. All of this, under the same roof, where a community of creators invent together in a global and decentralized paradigm. It might unveil incredible music and a new sense of collective achievement.
We hope you will join us in this exciting adventure.