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Have you ever listened to a song you know and love, only to hear it performed in a way that made it feel beautifully unfamiliar? That might be your brain meeting microtonality, specifically a tuning system like 31-EDO (31 equal octave divisions). We grow up immersed in 12-tone equal temperament (12-TET), the standard Western system that divides the octave into 12 equal parts. But what happens when we divide it into 31 steps instead? Suddenly, you can explore sonic spaces between notes, intervals more precise, expressive, and, at first, alien to our ears. But this isn’t just a sound experiment; it’s an experiment in how the brain adapts to musical unfamiliarity.

Why 31-EDO?

31-EDO is not just arbitrary. It closely approximates just intonation intervals, especially major thirds and minor sevenths. While 12-TET is a compromised system, 31-EDO offers richer harmonic color, finer control of dissonance, and access to intervals impossible in the 12-tone world. 31-EDO traces back to Renaissance theorist Nicola Vicentino, who envisioned expanded tonal palettes long before modern electronic instruments made them possible. In his 1555 treatise, L’antica musica ridotta alla moderna prattica, Vicentino proposed dividing the octave into 31 parts using a specially designed keyboard instrument. Today, works like Introduction to Microtonal Music show how modern composers and theorists continue to explore these systems for theoretical refinement and expressive potential.

Listening and the Brain

From a neuroscience perspective, unfamiliar tunings like 31-EDO initially create prediction errors. Our brain is adaptive; however, if we are used to 12-tone music, it expects familiar chord progressions to resolve in a certain way. Likewise, if it doesn’t, at least not in the way our brain has been trained, it creates dissonance in our expectations. Recent findings suggest that the anterior cingulate cortex (ACC), a brain area involved in error detection and conflict monitoring, helps process these musical surprises. EEG and fNIRS research show how theta and beta oscillations shift during microtonal listening. Beta oscillations are associated with stability and motor planning through inhibitory control, while theta oscillations reflect conflict detection or the need for cognitive adjustment and control. Together, these offer a window into how the brain negotiates unfamiliar sound worlds.

Radiohead in 31-EDO

One striking arrangement reinterprets Radiohead’s True Love Waits in 31-EDO. In this version, the harmonic shading shifts in nuanced, unexpected ways, deepening the piece's emotional resonance. What’s especially compelling is the use of uniquely microtonal chords: subminor 7 chords, sesquiflat chords, half-flat and half-sharp chords, supermajor 7 chords, and neutral chords. These cannot be created in traditional 12-TET and offer an emotional and kinetic vocabulary otherwise inaccessible. Musicians Stephen Weigel and Braelen show that microtonality doesn’t mean abandoning structure or coherence; it expands the palette. Their version integrates microtonal singing, jazz phrasing, and isomorphic keyboards like the Lumatone, showing how 31-EDO can be expressive and intuitive. Depending on their tuning relationships, consonant chords gain new dimensions of richness, sweetness, or tension. Microtonality here isn't a gimmick; it’s a deeper lens into musical feeling.

True Love Waits - Radiohead (with Levi McClain, Braelen Addison)

Compositional Opportunities in 31-EDO

The 31-EDO tuning system lets you modulate to half-sharp or half-flat chords, explore harmonic colors like supermajor and sub-minor intervals, and craft neutral chords that hover between major and minor tonalities. Beyond harmonic innovation, 31-EDO also expands the possibilities for voice leading and modulation in ways that 12-TET simply cannot. These additional tonal steps open up new expressive pathways and transitions that feel organic, surprising, or nuanced. This flexibility makes 31-EDO fertile ground for avant-garde experimentation and film scoring, jazz improvisation, and contemporary songwriting. Microtonal richness supports its harmonic complexity and emotional subtlety, offering composers novel ways to build narratives through sound.

Why Does This Matter

Understanding and embracing microtonality has broader implications. It reflects cognitive flexibility: the brain’s ability to shift frameworks and learn to appreciate what once felt strange. It enhances cultural literacy since many non-Western traditions are built on microtonal systems. It also deepens our understanding of how the brain responds to surprise, ambiguity, and adaptation.

Even without formal training, listeners form tonal expectations in unfamiliar tuning systems through repeated exposure. You don’t need to be a theorist to appreciate 31-EDO music; you only need an open ear and a willingness to let go of what we think music "should" sound like. Let your ears wander. The music lives in the spaces between the notes. Hillis notes that creativity often emerges in the liminal space between structure and chaos, the “space between the notes,” where new possibilities unfold (2021).

References:

• Bridges, B. (2013). A critical theory and creative practice of microtonal music composition and performance: Vols. 1 & 2 (Doctoral dissertation, University of Western Sydney). University of Western Sydney ResearchDirect. 

• Mencke, I., Omigie, D., Wald-Fuhrmann, M., & Brattico, E. (2019). Atonal music: Can uncertainty lead to pleasure? Frontiers in Neuroscience, 13, Article 979. 

• Sabat, M. E., & Tenney, J. (Eds.). (2019). Introduction to microtonal music. Frog Peak Music.

• Hasegawa, R. (2018). Hearing the tonality in microtonality. Music Theory Online, 24(3). 

• Hillis, N. (2021). Creativity, chaos theory, and the space between the notes: The artist’s journey. Self-published. https://www.artistsjourney.com

• EBSCO Fulltext. (2025). The effects of microtonality on listener expectations and preference: A review of neuroaesthetic research.

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I woke up on a beautiful Thursday morning, April 21, 2016. On a sunny day, with a fair breeze, I wandered through the house, ready to put my best foot forward and seize the day. I was eager and motivated to attend a business meeting with donors who were supposed to secure funding for the Kind-Hearted Compassion in Action non-profit organization. The project provides resources for talented artists facing adverse circumstances, helping them pursue their dreams and goals. I was enjoying my espresso and scrolling through my social media feed when I first saw it: “Iconic rock musician Prince has died, his publicist confirmed.” He was 57. Who died? It's impossible! I'm still mourning Bowie’s recent passing, and now you've decided to leave me? For music fans, 2016 began with the never-before-seen mass exodus of some of the most prolific and innovative musicians of our time. You, Prince, were unrivaled, a superlative musician, showman, fashionista, music-business entrepreneur, and entertainer. You were never supposed to exit your physical body. Your design was flawless and angelic, and it inspired us continuously. Your first album dropped in 1978, and "For You" was the first time we started to recognize a shift in the current musical landscape. 

I didn't understand what was mysterious and refreshing then, but I was drawn to you like a fly to a porch light at night. From that moment on, I couldn't stop paying attention to you. The ‘80s gave rise to many androgynous performers; musicians were still untouchable, like the superheroes we all aspired to be. But you, Prince, were the epitome of it. You were more significant than life. God wanted you to stay under 5.3 inches tall for a reason. Otherwise, we would have been too intimidated to seek validation and purpose. All we could do was learn by imitating you, slowly striving toward a level of artistry that always seemed beyond our reach. We tried to follow the blueprint you provided, hoping to gain insight into your relentless pursuit of perfection.  

According to Merriam-Webster’s dictionary, a pattern is “a reliable sample of traits, acts, tendencies, or other observable characteristics of a person, group, or institution.” It is a disposition, a theme, and a recognizable trait someone can replicate from what we’ve learned or done before. It offers insight into recurrent thoughts or actions and the underlying understanding behind them. Questlove summed it up splendidly in his Rolling Stone essay about you: "I patterned everything in my life after Prince." Psychology teaches us about observational learning theories and their benefits. It explains how we learn, how imitating others can help us, and how it helps us understand the world around us. We were always learning, and you showed us most of it, but we couldn't keep up. When I thought I understood what you were doing, you danced to a different tune. The Purple Rain Tour never made it to Europe. People said you quit the potentially most significant music spectacle too soon to focus on your next album, “Sign o' the Times,” which you'd already recorded during the Purple Rain era. 

I've always wondered why the Grammys or the Oscars are getting everyone so excited and starstruck. Sure, those pseudo-fortunetellers honor and recognize outstanding performances in the Arts of Music and Film. However, I have always been more interested in the creative and production process. The sacrifices and genius it took to create artistic history. Nobody in this industry seemed more diligent, obdurate, and committed than you, Prince. You practiced the same song for hours to get it right, to perfection. Prince, this is how you shared your artistry with us. I hope everyone has seen your guitar performance at George Harrison's induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, "While My Guitar Gently Weeps." You shared the stage with some of the most significant living music legends, Tom Petty, Steve Winwood, Jeff Lynne, and many more, and they all bowed after the last note of your guitar kept echoing in the room, refusing to fall silent. Afterward, I spoke with many musicians, and everyone said your performance was out of this world. In an interview with Rolling Stone Magazine, Elton John, who performed on stage twice with you, tearfully and visibly moved by the news of your passing, called you "the greatest performer I have ever seen" and "a true genius." 

It's easy to generalize when expressing our opinions. Still, everything I've learned from you and others' autobiographical statements is true. The attention to detail you've put into everything—from the design to your wardrobe, promotional material, and pretty much everything surrounding your brand—was, to say the least, flawless and superbly executed. Your rigorous, meticulous preparations left nothing to chance, setting new industry standards, with so much heart and soul in everything you gave us. You influenced them all—the music tycoons in music and fashion alike. Donatella Versace paid tribute to you and, shortly after your death, released a line of skintight suits and ruffled blouses exclusively for you. Your fearless attitude and, more importantly, your inspiration for conversations about gender have pushed the boundaries of taste and acceptability. In an interview with The Guardian, Frank Ocean shares an emotional tribute: “He made me feel comfortable with how I identify sexually simply by his display of freedom from and irreverence for the archaic idea of gender conformity.” You wouldn’t allow us to pin you down in the gender box. You knew the only way you could rise above us was to be not one of us. You held up a mirror to us, holding us accountable for our lives as artists and human beings. You set the bar beyond high for some of us and, indeed, inspired us to pursue our highest truth.

The creative genius of releasing your music under different pseudonyms, from The Time to Apollonia 6, and letting them chart alongside you and each other—who does something like that? You, Prince. You embodied the equivalents of so many artists who came before you. You carried on the legacy of James Brown, Jimi Hendrix, and Sly while creating your own style. It's almost inconceivable how masterfully you've done all of this, from the minor details to the endless supply of music, regardless of the epithet you've released or the people you've empowered and launched careers with through the pieces you wrote for them. Why didn't you care about your health the same way you did about details and perfection? Your euphoria stopped there, where you needed it the most. According to people in your close circle, you suffered from incredible pain in your hips. I respect your religious beliefs, but you, Prince, were our mentor, and we needed you with us much longer. You were different; you guarded our collective consciousness and taught us to embrace and love ourselves. 

I still remember how the first note of your solo on Purple Rain pierced my soul and brought tears to my eyes. To this day, I cannot listen to your rendition of life without fighting back the tears and sorrows of my youth. What a compelling experience. Is this the voice of God? How else can I explain that? It's like a lifeline, the pulse, the intricacy of our existence fused into one sound, one frequency, one simple mechanical action, and it changes lives. I didn't get to see you in concert until 1992. The "Diamonds and Pearls Tour" was my "Get-Off” of my mundane existence and my realignment with purpose. It was my chance to walk away from the life I had once imagined after graduating from business law college before Michael B took to the drums and hypnotized me. With every beat, every stroke, every note, he reached into my soul and rewrote it from within. There was no return. I left the concert and enrolled in Music College the next day, anxiously awaiting the start.

You changed my life in ways I would never have imagined. I wouldn't be writing this letter to you from where I'm striking the keys on my computer at this very moment. Allowing myself to escape our society's norms and parental expectations made me fearless in the face of the never-ending obstacles on our path in life. Through this transformation, I’ve learned to embrace uncertainty and use it as a corresponding creative vehicle rather than getting trapped in the sensations of anxiety that often precede it. Why didn’t you warn us of what was going to happen? Was there any sign that could have prepared us for this? I guess your master plan didn’t call for it. You weren’t supposed to leave us behind, alone, and without any coping mechanisms; additionally, nobody else can provide for us what you have shared and given so intensely to us. Our development, however, isn't enough for us to be on our own. We needed you to mirror our souls and dreams, relentlessly and tenderly, so we could dare to live them vicariously through you, especially when so many of us fell short of our obligations and the unique Divine purpose etched into each of us. Yet even now, and long after your passing, your spirit remains sharp, resonant, and ever-present. Your unfading, urgent spirit calls us to rise: to live into the responsibility entrusted to us through our talents and to bring forth our highest, most authentic work, not only for ourselves but as a gift to others and to a world that deeply needs it. 

It's been seven hours and three thousand eight hundred twenty-six days. Nothing compares 2 U!

With Purple Love!   

References:

• “Questlove Remembers Prince: In This Life, You're on Your Own” - Rolling Stone Magazine by Questlove - April 25, 2016.

• “Elton John Remembers Prince: A true genius. Musically way ahead of any of us" – Rolling Stone Magazine. By Sarah Grant – April 21, 2016

• “Prince: how his androgynous style influenced fashion” by Pria Elan - The Guardian - April 26, 2016.

In a striking fusion of modern music and classical movement, choreographer Robert Bondara presents a contemporary ballet set to 

Radiohead’s haunting track “Reckoner.” Performed by Polish dancers, the performance offers more than just visual interpretation; it becomes a dialogue of two artistic languages: sound and movement. The performance reminded me of an article by Joellen A. Meglin and Lynn Matluck Brooks (2013) titled “Music and Dance: Conversations and Codes,” in which the authors argue that music and dance are not hierarchically arranged but instead function as “sound companions” — equal partners in meaning-making. 

Music and Dance as Dialogues, Not Illustrations

Meglin and Brooks propose that when music and dance intersect, they form a shared semiotic system: “codes" that generate new meanings neither art form could convey. In this performance, Bondara’s choreography doesn’t just follow the rhythm or melody of “Reckoner.” Instead, it engages in a core musical conversation:

1. Phrasing in the body echoes the music's harmonic swells.

2. Pauses and contractions mirror moments of dissonance or breath.

3. The dancers sometimes resist rhythmic expectations, creating tension and release that visually amplify the song’s emotional ambiguity.

This resonates with Henry Cowell’s “elastic form” concept, as discussed in the article: a flexible structure in which music and dance stretch and contract around each other. Bondara’s use of classical phraseology against Radiohead’s atmospheric, non-traditional structure invites us to see the music and the movement in a new emotional context.

Beyond Aesthetics - A New Hybrid Code

What emerges is more than just a performance: it’s a hybrid language rooted in tradition that speaks to modern sensibilities. According to Meglin and Brooks, such collaborations offer fertile ground for rethinking how we study, teach, and experience performance, especially in a world increasingly defined by genre fluidity and cultural variations.

Reference

• Meglin, J. A., & Brooks, L. M. (2013). Music and Dance: Conversations and Codes. Dance Chronicle, 36(2), 137–142.