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From Karaoke to the Platters

How I Did It – How You Can Too

Paul B Allen III

Copyright © 2007 by Paul B. Allen, III

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From Karaoke to the Platters

(Paul B Allen III)

Top customer reviews

5.0 out of 5 stars Well worth the read

By Sunflower on June 18, 2017

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From Karaoke to the Platters is a great read best described as uplifting, inspiring and realistic. From nay-sayers to stardom; Paul gives the reader a special view into the life of a top charted singer and song writer with tips, tricks and very valuable advice on how to get going and how to not give up, no matter what.

5.0 out of 5 stars I was happy, excited

By AC on August 22, 2017

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A charming, highly informative autobiographical narrative, with all the verve, wit, and behind the scenes stories that leaves you dying to read more. All my buttons were pushed! I was happy, excited, thoughtful, entertained, and even sad, but ultimately exhilarated. How refreshing to read about someone who did not give into the dark side of the business, and who writes now, not only to entertain, but to help, and to instruct others, in the great how-to sequences of this beautiful literary work! I happily and strongly recommend this book to anyone who wants to be informed, entertained, and inspired. It's both a five-star effort, and a hugely successful five-star debut, all the way.

5.0 out of 5 stars Where do I begin?

By KC on June 25, 2017

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The book had me at page 1. I could relate to a lot of it but in reverse. The writing flowed, the story drew you in and kept you interested throughout. Wonderful story, if you want to be up nights turning pages, buy this book. You won't be sorry. Great!!!

5.0 out of 5 stars Motivating, Inspiring

By Something in my water on June 28, 2017

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Great, easy to read and relate even if you are not interested in playing an instrument or singing. We all have our "Miracle Miles" throughout our journey through life. From Karaoke to the Platters comes under the heading Motivational and Inspirational. A must read if you are trying to get from A to B. Plus you learn a lot about Paul B lll.

5.0 out of 5 stars Smooth, Sexy, Dapper, like a chilled glass of fine wine

By foxy girl on July 12, 2017

Format: Paperback

Genius at work! What a life and what a great story, you will not be sorry you got this book, I loved it. Here is a chance to go behind the music, and the fame, to experience the hard work first hand, one that eventually takes you on a trip around the world. Singer, writer, mentor and so much more. His desire, ambition and talent landed him a spot as the lead singer with the legendary Platters. That intoxicating voice of his will captivate you as he holds those notes til the end of time. Paul B Allen lll smooth, sexy, dapper you know, like a chilled glass of fine wine....


To my grandfather, Paul B. Allen, Sr. You started it all.

To my father, Paul B. Allen, Jr. You were the inspiration, the power, and the catalyst.

To my son, Paul B. Allen, IV, my daughter, Brooke Shalimar Allen, and my grandson, Zane Elijah Waller. Your genius is what all these generations have been leading up to.

To Wayne Henderson, of the Crusaders; Augie Johnson, of Side Effect; and Dr. Larry T-Byrd Gordon, of the T-Byrd Gordon Band, you are gone, but not forgotten. Ever my mentors, ever my brothers, ever my friends.

Part 1

How I Did It – How You Can Too

Chapter 1

Left Behind

Seventeen words.

Doesn’t seem like a lot, does it? But his next seventeen words would change the course of my life forever.

“We’re starting a new class in vocal chorus,” he began, “and I’ll take anyone who can carry a tune.”

Wow, we thought, this is fantastic!

After all, this was a poor, rural, Black school, and this would be the first extra-curricular activity in the school’s history. A teacher from a neighboring White school would come here once a week, and we would be excused from the regular reading, writing, and arithmetic, and allowed to do something fun. Sing!

The music teacher listened as each of us, one by one, sang the musical scale he had given. At the end of that marathon session, he would let our fifth-grade teacher know whom to send to the cafeteria for the class that would officially begin the next week.

When the fateful day arrived, 33 of the 35 kids in the class were sent to the cafeteria. Only two hopeless cases were left behind. Their names were Henry and Paul.

As the kids filed out of the classroom, some pointed, while others snickered, at the two “rejects” being left behind.

Though neither Henry nor Paul, appeared to care all that much, inside, Paul was embarrassed and ashamed. I know. I’m Paul.

I have often thought of that music teacher over the decades. Although I never got to attend even one of his classes, each time I think of him, I smile.

As I sang for the Royal Family in England, I thought of him and smiled.

I also thought of him as I sang for Prince Albert of Monaco, and, again, a few days later, when I was invited to the White House to perform for the President of the United States of America.

When I stood before my first audience as the new lead vocalist of The Platters, man, did I smile!

It was an amazing journey, going from “reject” to lead singer of one of the greatest vocal groups of all time. I’d like to tell you the things I did to get from there to here.

Part One, “How I Did It – How You Can Too!” uses autobiographical excerpts from my life to demonstrate the ten steps that changed my world, and that can change yours too, if you’re willing to give them a try. Yes, it’s true. Just like I did, you can go from singing karaoke to singing on stage as a professional vocalist.

Want to learn how to sing on key? Would you like to improve the quality of your voice?

How about writing music for your own lyrics and poems? Or, would you like to learn how to take any song and put it in YOUR key, making it very easy for you to sing?

Part One gives you all that and more.

Part Two will show you what it’s like to be on the road with a world-famous group. You’ll see the good, the bad, and the ugly, because if you think it’s all fun and games, you are in for a shock.

But also in Part Two, is a section called “The Perks,” which tells you about the upside of being a professional vocalist. You’ll learn about the immediate desirability you will gain in the eyes of the opposite sex. You’ll learn about the opportunity you have to travel the world in first-class luxury, while getting paid for it, and about the opportunities you will have to meet and work with some of your all-time favorite musical artists, TV personalities, movie stars, and some of the world’s most powerful political figures.

Last, but certainly not least, you will learn about the kind of money you can make at this level. You will be amazed.

“The Perks,” will convince you that going from karaoke singer to a professional vocalist in a performing group like The Platters is definitely worth the effort!

The trail has been blazed, and you now hold in your hands the only “road map” ever created to help karaoke singers reach their goal of becoming professional vocalists.

This autobiographical map will get you to your desired destination and will show you how to join me in this small, rare, and incredible world I now have the privilege of working in.

The bottom line is this. I’ll show you how to go from being a karaoke singer to a professional vocalist, but, in order to balance the scales I also have to make you aware of everything else that will come with the fruition of your musical dreams.

Most of it is fantastic, some of it is terrible, and nearly all of it is unbelievable.

If you’re still game, grab your “road map” and take this trip with me now.

You’ll find that I’m nothing like that music teacher from my old elementary school. I promise you here and now, I will never leave you behind.

Chapter 2

The Miracle Mile

My family moved from Omaha, Nebraska to San Bernardino, California in the hot summer of 1963. I would be attending Mill Elementary School as a fifth grader when summer vacation was over.

San Bernardino is a valley, surrounded by beautiful mountains. In ’63, the air was so crisp and clear you had the feeling that you could reach out and touch any one of those mountains. Coming from the “flatlands” of America, mountains were awe-inspiring to me.

San Bernardino was a vibrant city back then, kept alive by Norton Air Force Base, and the Aerospace Industry that was based there. The city was growing, thriving, and filled with opportunity.

Parts of the city had beautiful homes, whereas other parts were zoned for ranches, filled with horses and cows, and just a few older houses sprinkled in between. In those areas, the houses were cheap but fairly nice, and sometimes there would be hundreds of yards between those older homes.

Sometimes, there could even be a mile...

That was the area my family moved into. We had a three bedroom house with a huge living room, a formal dining room, and a large bonus room, which was our family room, and where you had to come to watch TV (there was usually only one TV per household in those days). It would later serve as my bedroom.

Our back yard was nice, and also large. We had five peach trees, one loquat tree, one orange tree, and one pomegranate tree (which always looked more like a bush to me), and all bore sweet, delicious, fruit!

We also had a detached garage at the end of the paved driveway, and there was a basketball goal attached to it, so my younger brothers and I had our own tiny basketball court to play on.

My father rented this house from a very kind man with a wonderful family of his own. Dad paid Mr. Cabrera’s full asking price of $80 a month.

24887 Central Ave in San Bernardino, California, will always be a fond memory for me, as it is where my odyssey began.

There was exactly one mile from my house to the school I attended, and there were more horses and cows than people in between. It was not until I was an adult that I realized how important that one-mile gap between my house and my school really was. I would later name it my “Miracle Mile.”


When I attended school the very first day, I was amazed at what I found. 99% of the students were Black! In all of my previous school years in Omaha, I usually only saw one Black face in my class, and then, only if I was looking in a mirror!

My shock and amazement continued. My teacher was a Black woman. I had never seen a Black school teacher in my life.

Then I learned that the principle of the school was also a Black woman! She was a trail-blazing pioneer named Dorothy Ingram. In those days, a trip to the office to see Mrs. Ingram meant that you were probably about to face “the paddle.” Usually, one trip to see Mrs. Ingram provided all the inspiration you needed to stay on the “straight and narrow” for the remainder of the school year.

Mrs. Ingram was a disciplinarian, as were all of her teachers. She was always fair, and absolutely fierce, when it came to protecting and providing for the kids who attended her school. Even if you didn’t have a quarter for the delicious hot lunch (and there were times I didn’t), you still ate. Mrs. Ingram saw to that.

I was lucky enough to attend fifth and sixth grades there. But mine would prove to be the last (or next to last. Cut me some slack. This stuff happened over 50 years ago) graduating class of Mill Elementary. This wonderful all Black school, with all of its pioneer history, would soon be dissolved and turned into first, a community center, and later a “Head Start” location. The students from Mill would soon be bussed to schools farther away, schools with more money, schools that were predominantly White.

Mrs. Ingram, however, would never be forgotten by the city and people she loved so much, and served so well. A major library was named after her in San Bernardino many years later.

But it was at Mill Elementary that I was first told, in so many words, that I was a terrible singer. Not even average, terrible.

After their first class in chorus, the kids came back to the classroom formerly manned by my beautiful and intelligent teacher, a woman named Mrs. Russo (who was from somewhere back East where they pronounce the letter R as “are-ra” with nearly as much emphasis on the “ra” as on the “are”), Henry and me. They were happy, excited, and enthusiastic. I, of course, acted as if it was no big deal. I didn’t want to be in any stupid chorus. At least, that’s what I told all the other kids.

But, after school was let out, and I started the long trek home alone, I definitely had the blues. The more I thought about it, the more upset I became. I was never a cry baby, but tears welled up in my eyes (in retrospect, maybe that means that I really was a cry baby). I was mad, embarrassed, and missing out on a lot of fun.

I had never before been told that I was not great at something I had attempted to do. I was always one of the smartest kids in class, thanks to the advanced training methods of the Nebraska school system, and two extremely intelligent and nurturing parents.

When tested in California before starting fifth grade, the school officials came to our home and told my parents (with me listening in secret close by) that I was working at the ninth grade level. When I heard that, I got the “big head,” but it lasted only a few seconds, because the next words out of their mouths were that my younger sister, Gayle, was working at the eleventh-grade level! From that day on, I looked at my little sis with new found respect, but waited 40 years to tell her why!

Anyway, the point is that I had never felt inadequate at anything before in my life. Now here I was being told that I had a terrible voice.

So, the music teacher doesn’t want me, huh? Well I’ll show him!

This was a defining moment for me.

When somebody knocks you down, you can stay down, you can get up and run, or you can jump right back up and fight. Well, in my case, I’ve always been too stupid to stay down, and too slow to run...

But now that I had made up my mind that I was going to prove him wrong, how was I going to go about it?

I gave it some serious thought. Actually, for a couple of days, especially as I walked back and forth to school, virtually alone with my thoughts, the ideas of how to practically achieve what I wanted to achieve began to be formulated.

The first thing that occurred to me was that if you wanted to build muscles in your body, you’d have to exercise them. I didn’t know about vocal chords or the diaphragm in those days. I just imagined the voice as a muscle, like a bicep, and I instinctively knew that if I wanted people to think I was at least a decent singer, I was going to have to exercise that vocal muscle and build it up and make it stronger. But, I was embarrassed to sing in front of anyone else, especially now.

That’s when the light came on! It hit me that I could use that one-mile stretch between school and home to practice. So what if the horses and cows felt like I was torturing them? Who were they going to tell? With a whole mile and no people in between, I could sing all the way to school and all the way back home again. I could sing as loudly as I wanted, and not have to be embarrassed. I could start to strengthen and stretch my vocal muscle, and no one would ever even suspect that I was trying to improve my voice.

You may be wondering why there were no other kids walking to and from school with me. The reason is that when we first moved to San Bernardino, my family rented a little house across the street from the school. We were living there during the time of school registration, and for about the first month after school began. However, we soon moved to the house on Central, but it was actually out of the Mill Elementary school district. I loved my new school--and a really cute girl named Lynette Cash--and didn’t want to attend another. So, while all the other kids living in my area were being bussed to other schools, I just walked the mile to school, kept my mouth shut (so far as my current home address), and flew under the radar.

As I began my new vocal routine, the cows, and horses, which usually stood close enough to the wire fences that they could be petted, scattered like they were being shot at.

It was unanimous. No one liked my singing!

For a long while, when they would hear me coming, they refused to even come close to the fence. But, as the months went by, because of certain things I was learning, my voice started to improve. It took me a while to realize it, but in time, as I walked by singing, the cows and the horses were meandering in from the fields and drawing closer and closer to the fence.


Now, how about you? Where is your “Miracle Mile?” Where can you go and be alone to sing as loudly as you would like, without having to be embarrassed? I think this is the first practical thing that you must do.

Also, remember that I had the benefit of being able to practice twice every school day. Isolation and regularity, I discovered, are a potent combination.

Find your Miracle Mile and go there at least once a day. It may be your bedroom when no one else is at home. It may be in your garage or in your basement. It may be out in an open field. But where ever it is, find it, and start singing. As you do, you will begin to pay closer attention to what is coming out of your mouth, and you’ll hear things that need to be improved.

In the coming chapters, I’ll show you just how to do that.

Step 1: Find your Miracle Mile and go there every day.

Chapter 3

Play Something

Even before moving to San Bernardino, I had a little interest in music, though not necessarily in singing. I had never even thought about singing until I went to Mill Elementary and was told that I was no good at it. But back in Omaha, Skipper Ross, the kid who lived two doors down from our house, was taking piano lessons.

Skipper didn’t like it. We’d all be outside, playing baseball or football, and we would hear Skipper’s mom hollering for him to come home for piano practice. Skipper would wince and complain. He hated to hear his mom’s voice at times like that. Mrs. Ross would actually be yelling from inside her house and we could hear her outside several houses away. Somewhere in her past, Mrs. Ross had obviously found her miracle mile.

Thought Skipper hated piano practice, for some unknown reason, I asked my parents for a piano and for piano lessons. However, my dad was only about twenty-six years old at the time. He had four children, was working a full-time job at night, and carrying a full load at the university in the day, as he attempted to become the first Black man to graduate with a degree in Marketing from what was then Omaha University, now, The University of Nebraska at Omaha. He succeeded.

But, as is the case with most new families, things were not the greatest then, financially speaking. A piano and lessons were definitely out of the question.

It was a year or two later that we would move to San Bernardino. At first, things were even harder than they had been in Omaha. But my dad was an intelligent man, and a workaholic, so things quickly got better.

Ironically, by the time I entered sixth grade, which was the last year that Mill Elementary would be in existence, the music programs increased. At this point, my father, who tinkered around on the flute himself, was able to rent instruments for my sister Gayle and me. We both got clarinets, and Gayle later traded up to a flute. The following year, my two younger brothers, Bruce and Eric (who initially hated their unusual middle names, but who, in their later teen years, insisted that everyone start calling them by those names, “Corey” and “Milo” respectively), also received instruments and began receiving lessons at the new school that they were being bussed to. Bruce started to play saxophone and Eric the drums. (As you can see, big brother never gave into their wishes. I am probably the only one in the world who still calls them “Bruce and Eric.” They were born just 11 months apart and have been inseparable ever since. Even speaking their names becomes one long word. “Bruce and Eric,” as in, “How are Bruce and Eric?” or “What are Bruce and Eric up to?” You never say one without the other).

My brothers would continue to play their respective instruments up to the present day. I quit after the first two years, and Gayle after three.

Of course, the three of them were going to a different school. By some miracle, I was still flying under the radar, but would soon be found out. I got sick one day at school and my teacher insisted on driving me home on the lunch break (can you believe that? It would surely never happen today!). When she got me there, it was obvious that I was out of the district, and a long talk with my parents ensued. But, as I was deep into the school year, and these teachers were not nearly as officious as they are today, I was allowed to finish the sixth grade there, and thus became a part of the historic last year of Mill Elementary school.

Even though my instrument was not a piano or guitar, which would have been far better for musical training, what I did get from playing clarinet was three things that would later help me as a singer. It improved my lung capacity, making me be able to hold notes longer than many other singers. It gave me a rudimentary knowledge of music theory, and it gave me the chance to perform publicly.


Please, allow me to switch gears here for just a moment.

As a celebrity judge for the USA World Showcase, I have heard many vocalists over the past few years. This competition is open to talented hopefuls from all around the world. Usually, forty thousand to fifty thousand vocalists are screened for each competition, and about 150 to 175 are chosen to compete. I will hear all the contestants in one day, and grapple with other judges as to whom the best vocalists were in each category.

After each competition is completed, usually around 10:00 pm (a very long day since the competition begins at 10:00 am), I stay around and speak with all who wish to meet me and ask questions of me. There are always so many seeking constructive criticism, and feedback, that I am usually there until 1:30 or 2:00 am!

Most will ask what they can do to improve, and for the vast majority of them, the answer is the same. Learn to play an instrument. By far the biggest problem I hear with these singers is their tendency to stray off key as they are singing a song. After judging several of these competitions, and speaking to so many of the contestants afterward, I began to be able to tell while judging, who played instruments and who did not, because nearly 100% of the time, the best singers with the truest pitch, all played some kind of instrument!

I can’t tell you exactly what playing an instrument does for your ear in technical terms. Maybe you play a “C” so many times that you know what it should sound like, and it makes it easier to replicate vocally. Or, maybe it is, as some suggest, that individual notes of the scale have their own “color,” and playing an instrument helps you to recognize the “color” of that particular note, which in turn makes it easier to sing. I can’t tell you how it improves your ear, and in turn, your pitch, all I can tell you is that it does.

You don’t have to become Beethoven or Mozart. You don’t even have to play well enough to perform. But learn to play the piano or the guitar, and it will be the single best thing you can do for your ear and your voice.


When I was twenty-one years old, I was working as a teller, first at Security Pacific National Bank (now defunct, through no fault of my own. A lot of people transpose numbers, you know?), and later, at Bank of America.

The people from the Southern California Gas Company used to come into our bank and cash huge payroll checks every week or two. I couldn’t believe the money they were making compared to what I was making at the bank. In time I became friends with several of the Gas Company people, and they encouraged me to come in and apply for a job with them. I did, but they had no official openings. Still, they really liked me, so they created a “temporary” job and hired me into that position, in hopes that an “official” job would open up before the six-month temporary position had to be deleted, as per company policy. Six months later, I was reading Gas Company meters.

But here’s the really important thing. The money I got from working at the Gas Company instantly doubled the discretionary income I had when I was working at the bank. So the first thing I did was to buy myself a bass and an amp. I also purchased a “how to” book and began to teach myself to play.

I was thumping along for a day or two when suddenly, it hit me! An epiphany, a revelation so intense that it nearly knocked me out of my seat! Suddenly, I knew how to write a song!

Am I a genius? No way! It is super easy. Before you finish reading the next few pages, you will also know how to write the music for a song! (Not interested in writing music? Skip ahead to the part about James Ingram.)

There are thousands of songs written that are based on just 3 little notes, and no matter what instrument you learn to play, they are going to be among the first notes you will learn how to play. They are the notes C-F-G. Now let me show you how to write a song with these notes. I will use my bass as an example, but again, this can be on piano or even guitar. This is how I did it.

First, I would strike the note C on my bass and count “1-2-3-4” out loud, then strike it again and count “1-2-3-4” Strike it again and count “1-2-3-4” Strike it again and count “1-2-3-4.”

Next, I would strike the note F and count “1-2-3-4” and strike it again and count “1-2-3-4”

Then back to C and strike it and count “1-2-3-4” and strike it again and count “1-2-3-4.”

Then strike G and count “1-2-3-4”

Then strike F and count “1-2-3-4”

Then back to C and strike it and count “1-2-3-4” then strike it one more time and count “1-2-3-4.”

That’s it! You’re done! That’s the pattern for a whole song!

This pattern is officially called the “Twelve-Bar Blues” progression, and again thousands of songs are written in exactly this way, and many thousands more are written using a variation of this progression.

If you will play it on any instrument in the manner I just demonstrated, you will immediately hear and recognize this progression in many songs you already know. This exact same progression is used in tons of blues songs, in many pop, rock, county, and jazz songs too. The “Twelve-Bar Blues” progression is amazing!

What is a “Bar” of music? Every time you counted “1-2-3-4” you just counted one bar! Count the number of times we did that in the example above and you will see you just counted twelve bars of music!

Bars of music are also called “Measures” of music. “Bars” and “Measures” means exactly the same thing. These terms are interchangeable.

If you play this Twelve-Bar Blues progression or pattern a few times, it will quickly become second nature to you, and instead of counting out loud “1-2-3-4” you can start singing the words (lyrics) you have written down somewhere, but never used because you didn’t know how to write music to make it a complete song.

Now, as you start to sing your new song, you are singing what is called the “melody.”

As you strike the note (the C or F or G) and sing, you may find that parts of your melody sound great whereas others don’t sound so good. But here’s the thing. You will be able to tell the difference! No one else will have to tell you.

Why? Because every note has its own “family,” and when you sing your new melody you will be able to tell which notes are related to your C and which notes are not. And when you switch to F and keep singing, you will hear which notes of your melody are in F’s family, and which are not. It works the same with the notes in G’s family.

It’s like going to a pond and seeing swans gliding across it. If you see a little duck in their midst, paddling alongside, you know the little guy is a bird, but he’s no swan! He doesn’t fit in.

A bad melody note you sing as you are playing your main note of C, F, or G, will be like that little duck. You will be able to tell pretty quickly that it does not fit in; it is not “in the family.”

The technical musical term for a musical “family” is “Scale”. If you are playing C and what you sing sounds off or funny to your ear, that’s because what you sang is not part of the C Scale, not in C’s family. You don’t even have to memorize the C Scale. Your ear will tell you if the note you are singing is in C’s family or not. It’s really that simple!

Go ahead and start to play with this idea. When I started playing with it, in one day I learned to play the three notes, and, before the week was out, I had written four songs! But even more importantly, you are training your ear! By playing those 3 simple notes and listening to see if your new melody sounds “related” to the note you are playing at the time, you are learning how to sing on key! Your own ear will tell you if you are singing off key, and you will immediately fix it! How cool is that?


Within the couple of pages you just read, you’ve learned enough to start to write music for your lyrics or poems. If you are an aspiring musician and would like to learn just a little bit more, read the next three pages too. But, if you are not that interested in the more technical aspects of songwriting, again, jump ahead two or three sections to the part that talks about an experience I had with the great vocalist, James Ingram (“Just Once,” “One Hundred Ways,” “Baby Come To Me,” “Yah Mo B There”).

If you’re sticking around to learn a bit more, great! Here it comes…

Now, in time, if you decide you really want to train your ear, you can do that by first learning all the notes in C’s “immediate” family, and using that as a basis to learn the family members of the other notes, like F and G too.

The “Major” scale for a note is like that note’s “immediate” family. It’s that note’s Father and Mother and Sisters and Brothers, the notes that are most closely related to the main note, in our example, the note C.

Of course, there are other family members too, right? Like grandparents, and cousins and uncles and aunts and in-laws. These are all different scales, and they have names like a “Minor” scale, and “Pentatonic” scale and “Natural Minor” scale, and so on. But, just start out learning to hear and sing the “immediate family” first, the Major scale.

The C Major Scale is C-D-E-F-G-A-B-C. Guess what? You’ve probably already

“met” this family! Every time you have sung “do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do” you have just sung a Major Scale!

If you play the note C and match your first “do” with the sound of that C note, and you sing “do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do”, you will be singing the C Major Scale. If you play an F note and start singing “do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do” from there, you will be singing an F Major Scale. It works for every musical note exactly the same way!

Because your ear already knows this scale, when you start to sing your new song in your Twelve-Bar Blues progression, your ear will tell you if a particular note in your melody belongs or not, if it is in that note’s immediate family or not!


By using the notes C-F-G in our examples, you have also unconsciously learned about “Intervals.” An interval is the address of a note in the scale, its position on that scale. In “Major” scales, there are 8 positions or addresses. In the C Major Scale, the note C lives at position 1, and the note F lives at position 4, and the note G lives at position 5.