LISTEN up, say the scientists this week who have taken Columbia University's Million Song Database and run it through a computer.

"Over the past 50 years," they maintain, "melodies have become simpler and converged stylistically."

A valid argument? Let's take the second point first; by "converged stylistically" what the Nature Scientific Reports journal really means is that originality has gone the way of the 78rpm record.

Yet, you could suggest popular music has always been derivative. The eight-bar blues base line was simply speeded up to emerge as rock n' roll – and is there much difference between Little Richard's Lucille and Good Golly Miss Molly? And indeed Paul McCartney's I Saw Her Standing There?

And then when a minor chord was added in the 1950s to create the doo-wap sound, appearing in everything from Del Shannon's Runaway Sue to Elton John's Crocodile Rock, it didn't mean one song negated the other. Chord patterns, you see, have long been borrowed. My Sweet Lord by George Harrison, pictured, was stolen nicely from the Shirellels' You're So Fine, but then Bob Dylan borrowed, it seems, Harrison's Something intro to use in Simple Twist of Fate.

Who can forget the 1970s smiles which emerged on teen guitarists' faces on realising rock god David Bowie and bubblegum pop outfit The Sweet utilised the same "E and A" chord riff to intro both Gene Genie and Blockbuster?

Yes, pop borrowing can be a little obvious, as in the lovely Adam Faith's Buddy Holly impersonation in What Do You Want. But for the most part pop songs emerge as a result of natural conflation; one song suggests another, like a teasing lover hints at delights to emerge later on in the evening.

Had Eric Carmen never studied Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2 he'd never have come up with the 1975 classic All By Myself.

As for music becoming simpler? The boffins have a point. It's rare these days when songwriters utilise a Sinatra-like 9th or 13th chord, unless they're writing for a Michael Buble or Mika. And you can't deny their argument when it comes to dance music, which takes the simplest riff and plays it (loudly) to death, defying both conventional song structures of verse, chorus and middle eight – and awareness that eardrums will bleed if exposed too long to the likes of Cheryl Cole's latest single.

Dance truly is music for the hard of hearing – and thinking.

But you could argue we still have pop that paradoxically, sounds derivative – but original. Our Newton Faukners or Amy McDonalds still sound fresh. Sure the song essentially remains the same, but songwriters have to take from those who've gone before; through absorption or osmosis, which is when it is processed via an original voice to emerge with a new twist.

However, does that admonish Oasis? Had Noel Gallagher never heard Abbey Road there's a real chance he'd be working right now in an Argos warehouse.

.... The song remains the same