It’s a sound that immediately brings to mind Oktoberfest, or at least Polka Night at the Elks’ Lodge. It’s two sounds, actually – one deep and low, the other notably higher. The latter tone is pah, the response to the former, which is oom.
As each yang has its corresponding yen, every pah shares an unbreakable union with its oom. Oom is earthy, sturdy and skeptical, while pah is oom’s lighter, optimistic counterpart.
Oom reminds us of Meghan Trainor’s assertion that it’s all about that bass. Pah counters that Mrs. Trainor’s opinion is not universally held.
So what? We’re here to talk about oom today. Pah, please show yourself out.
May 3 is National Tuba Day and oom is the sound most often identified with the tuba. In fact, oom may well be the only sound most people associate with the tuba.
The tuba’s function in the orchestra is the equivalent of the bass guitar’s in a rock band. Both instruments provide a steady, rhythmic pulse without which the music could descend into chaos. However, while a bass guitar usually weighs little enough that even skinny Englishmen can smash it to pieces, a tuba rests its 25-30 pounds on the lap of its player, ensuring nobody’s gonna be smashing anything up in here.
How to explain, then, the tuba’s place in marching bands? Marching while both balancing and trying to play an instrument as heavy as a tuba seems impossible. Or at least inconvenient.
This was of particular interest to John Philip Sousa, an American composer whose best-known works were and are marches. He commissioned a modified tuba with an elongated tube that wrapped around the player’s shoulders, allowing the musician to move and play at the same time. This tuba variation is known as the sousaphone. Well, it would be, wouldn’t it?
Another aspect of the sousaphone’s design is that the bell, out of which the sound emits, sits higher than any other marching band instrument, ensuring the bass lines are clearly heard by fellow band members and audiences alike. This also makes the sousaphone more prominent visually and is probably why you thought of a sousaphone when you saw the word tuba.
Despite the tuba’s small tonal range, it is a vital element of orchestras, marching bands and polka groups. The tuba/sousaphone also is vital to the marching jazz bands of New Orleans, which means the tuba can swing in a way seldom heard in polka.
The Dirty Dozen Brass Band combines the brass band traditions of its Crescent City home with the funk that emerged from the Delta in the late 1960s-early 1970s. Dirty Dozen sousaphone player Kirk Joseph provides the bottom on Elvis Costello’s “Chewing Gum,” and swings as hard as any bass guitar or fiddle.
While the tuba doesn’t have a heavy presence in pop music, it’s been featured on recordings by rockers such as the Rolling Stones and Bruce Springsteen. “Something Happened to Me Yesterday,” the music hall spoof that closes the Stones’ Between the Buttons, is kept on pace by a tuba. Springsteen, meanwhile, used a tuba to underscore the poignance of “Wild Billy’s Circus Story.”
Will the tuba ever escape its supporting role to take its turn in the spotlight? A few years ago, Trombone Shorty and Bonerama gave the slide trombone a burst of pop culture prominence. Why shouldn’t the tuba claim its 15 minutes of fame?