AM Modulation
Modulation puts a low-frequency message onto a high-frequency wave. A microphone's signal
swings a few thousand times a second; a radio wave that can cross a city swings a few
million.
This article covers the simplest method: amplitude modulation, where the message
sets the height of the carrier. You only need to know what a sine wave is.
Every figure below is live — drag it, break it, watch what happens.
01 Why sound cannot be sent as sound
Start with what we actually have. A microphone turns sound into a voltage. Speech lives between about 300 Hz and 3.4 kHz; music reaches up to about 15 kHz. That voltage is the message, and a signal that sits at its natural frequencies like this is called a baseband signal.
The obvious plan is to connect that voltage straight to an antenna and let it radiate. The plan fails twice, for two completely different reasons.
Problem one: the antenna would not fit anywhere
An antenna only radiates well when its length is a decent fraction of the wavelength of the signal it is fed. The usual target is a quarter of a wavelength. And wavelength comes straight from frequency:
Low frequency means long wavelength. A 3 kHz voice tone has a wavelength of 100 kilometres, so a quarter-wave antenna for it is 25 kilometres tall. That is not an engineering challenge, it is a joke. Move the same signal up to 1 MHz and the antenna becomes 75 m — a normal radio mast. Move it to 2.4 GHz and it is 3 cm — a track on a circuit board.
Can I just build a smaller antenna and accept the loss?
You can, and phones do it every day, but it is not free. An antenna much shorter than a quarter wavelength has a very small radiation resistance — the part of it that turns power into radio waves. The rest of the power turns into heat in the copper and in the matching network.
A short antenna also becomes very sensitive to frequency: it works over a narrow band and needs a careful matching circuit to work at all. You can shrink an antenna by a factor of ten with clever design. You cannot shrink it by a factor of ten thousand, which is what sending audio directly would ask of you.
Problem two: everybody would be shouting in the same room
Suppose the antenna problem vanished. There is still a second wall. Every microphone in the world produces the same range of frequencies — roughly 20 Hz to 20 kHz. If two stations both transmit their audio directly, the two signals arrive on top of each other and add up.
A filter can only separate signals that are in different places in frequency. Here they are in the same place, so there is nothing to filter on. One transmitter per city, for everyone, forever.
Both problems have the same answer. Move the message up to a high frequency, and give every transmitter a different one. That is what modulation is for.
02 The carrier, which carries nothing
The high-frequency wave we move the message onto is called the carrier. It is a plain sine wave:
On its own it contains no information at all. Its height never changes, its frequency never changes, its timing never changes. If you look at it on a spectrum analyser you see a single spike and nothing else. Listening to an unmodulated carrier tells you exactly one thing: the transmitter is switched on.
That is the point. A sine wave has exactly three properties you can change, and a receiver can detect a change in any of them:
| Change this | You get | What the receiver watches |
|---|---|---|
| Amplitude | AM | how tall the wave is |
| Frequency | FM | how fast it wiggles |
| Phase | PM | whether it arrives early or late |
Modulation is the act of making one of those properties follow the message. Demodulation is the act of reading it back at the far end. This article follows the first row.
03 What amplitude modulation does
Call the message x(t), and scale it so it never leaves the range −1 to +1. Amplitude modulation replaces the constant height Ac with a height that moves:
Read it in two parts. The right-hand factor is the carrier, untouched: it still swings at fc, and it always will. The left-hand bracket is the new amplitude, and it goes up and down with the message.
Draw a smooth line through the peaks of the result and you get the envelope. The envelope is Ac[1 + m·x(t)] — the message itself, scaled and lifted up so that it never goes negative. The message is not inside the wiggles. It is in the shape they trace.
Three of the figures further down make sound — the modulation index, the detector, and the tuning dial. Nothing plays until you ask for it, and only one plays at a time.
04 The modulation index, and how to break it
The index m sets how deep the swing is. With a single tone the envelope runs between Ac(1 − m) at its lowest and Ac(1 + m) at its highest, so you can measure m off a screen without knowing anything else about the transmitter:
Three cases matter, and only three:
- m < 1 — the envelope stays above zero. Everything works. m = 0.5 means the height swings between half and one-and-a-half times the carrier.
- m = 1 — full modulation. The envelope just touches zero at its lowest point. This is as loud as standard AM is allowed to go, and it is where the message gets the largest share of the power.
- m > 1 — over-modulation. The bracket [1 + m·x(t)] goes negative. The envelope cannot follow it there, so it folds back up and stops being a copy of the message. The receiver hears harsh distortion, and the transmitted signal spreads far outside its channel and interferes with the neighbours.
Why does a negative envelope come back as a phase flip?
When [1 + m·x(t)] goes negative, the wave is still there — it is the carrier multiplied by a negative number, which is the same as the carrier turned upside down, or shifted in time by half a cycle. Mathematically nothing is lost: a receiver that also knows the carrier's phase can undo the sign and rebuild the message perfectly.
But an envelope detector does not know the phase. It only measures how tall the wave is, and height has no sign. So it reports |1 + m·x(t)| and the negative part is folded back up. Over-modulation is not a problem with the signal. It is a problem with the cheap receiver — which is the receiver everybody uses.
05 The same signal, seen in frequency
So far everything has been a picture of voltage against time. The other view — voltage against frequency — is where AM shows what it really did. Take the single-tone case, x(t) = cos(2π fm t), and multiply the brackets out:
Three pure tones, and not one of them is at fm. The message frequency itself has disappeared from the transmitted signal. What is left is the carrier, plus one copy of the message sitting just below it and one sitting just above it. Those two copies are the sidebands: the lower sideband (LSB) and the upper sideband (USB).
A real message is not one tone but a whole band, from near zero up to some highest frequency B. Each tone in it produces its own pair, so the result is two mirrored copies of the message spectrum, one on each side of the carrier. The signal now occupies
This is why an AM broadcast channel is 10 kHz wide while the audio inside it stops at about 5 kHz. You pay for the second copy whether you want it or not.
Why is the lower sideband mirrored?
The lower sideband sits at fc − fm. A higher message tone gives a lower frequency there, so as the message spectrum climbs, the lower sideband walks downward. It is the same information read backwards along the frequency axis.
Both sidebands carry the complete message. That is exactly the redundancy that single-sideband transmission (SSB) throws away: filter one of them off, and you send the same information in half the bandwidth — at the cost of a much more demanding receiver.
06 Where the power goes
Now for the price. With a single-tone message, the average power of the AM signal splits into a carrier term and two sideband terms:
The carrier term does not depend on m at all. It is there when the station is playing music and it is there when nobody is speaking. And we established one section ago that the carrier holds none of the information. So the useful fraction is
Even at full modulation, a standard AM transmitter puts two thirds of its power into a wave that says nothing. A station running a 50 kW carrier radiates all 50 kW of it whether anyone is speaking or not, and adds at most 25 kW of sidebands on top. In practice speech and music average well below m = 1, so the real figure is worse — often only a few per cent.
Then why send the carrier at all?
Because the carrier is what makes the envelope a faithful copy of the message. Remove it and you get DSB-SC — double sideband, suppressed carrier — which spends 100 % of its power on information, and whose envelope no longer looks like the message at all. Recovering it needs a receiver that regenerates a carrier locked to the transmitter's phase.
That is the trade at the heart of AM: the transmitter wastes power so that every receiver can be trivial. One expensive station, millions of cheap radios. For broadcasting, that is the right way round.
07 Getting the message back
Here is the reward for all that wasted power. The message is sitting in the envelope, and measuring an envelope takes three components: a diode, a resistor and a capacitor.
The diode passes only the positive half of the incoming wave. Each positive peak charges the capacitor up to that peak's height. Between peaks, the capacitor leaks slowly through the resistor. The voltage on the capacitor therefore hops up to each new peak and sags gently in between — which is a copy of the envelope, with some ripple on it.
Everything depends on the time constant τ = RC, and it is squeezed from both sides:
If RC is too small, the capacitor discharges between every carrier peak and the output is a rough, rippled version of the wave. If RC is too large, the capacitor cannot fall as fast as the envelope does, and the output cuts the corner in a straight line — a failure with the excellent name diagonal clipping. Between the two, it works.
Notice what is not in that circuit: no power supply, no oscillator, nothing that has to know the transmitter's phase. A diode and two passive parts pull speech out of the air. That is the whole return on the two thirds of the power we threw away in section 6.
08 Many stations, one sky
Back to the second problem from section 1. Every station is given its own carrier frequency, so every station's pair of sidebands sits in its own slot along the frequency axis. The slots are stacked side by side and nobody overlaps. This arrangement has a name: frequency-division multiplexing.
Your antenna picks up all of them at once and adds them together, which sounds like the same mess as before — except now they are in different places in frequency, so a filter can separate them. Tune a bandpass filter to one slot, throw away everything else, and hand what survives to the envelope detector. That is what the tuning knob on a radio does.
The slot has to be at least 2B wide, because that is what one station takes. If stations are packed closer than that, their sidebands overlap and you hear both at once — adjacent-channel interference. This is why AM broadcast channels are spaced 10 kHz apart in the Americas (9 kHz in most of the rest of the world) and the audio is filtered to about 5 kHz before it ever reaches the modulator.
09 What to remember
Six sentences, and they are the whole article:
- A message at audio frequencies cannot be radiated: the antenna would be kilometres long, and every station would occupy the same band.
- Modulation solves both by moving the message up to a high carrier frequency, chosen differently for each transmitter.
- In AM, the message controls the height of the carrier, and the message shape appears as the envelope: s(t) = Ac[1 + m·x(t)]cos(2πfct).
- The index m must stay at or below 1. Above it, the envelope folds and a simple receiver hears distortion.
- In frequency the result is a carrier and two sidebands, so AM occupies twice the message bandwidth, and at most one third of the power does useful work.
- The payment for that waste is a receiver made of three passive components.
Once those are solid, the rest of analogue modulation follows quickly. Suppress the carrier and you have DSB-SC, which is efficient but needs a synchronous receiver. Remove one sideband as well and you have SSB, which halves the bandwidth. Leave the amplitude alone and move the frequency instead and you have FM, which is far more resistant to noise — because noise adds itself to amplitude, and FM does not listen to amplitude.
All of them are the same sentence in different clothing: take a steady wave, and let the message change one thing about it.
More of this sort of thing
If you want another piece of RF explained from zero with figures you can break, the Smith chart essay next door does the same job for impedance, reflection and matching — and the chart itself runs live in the Lab.
Sources & further reading
- S. Haykin and M. Moher, Communication Systems, 5th ed., Wiley — chapter 3, amplitude modulation and its variants.
- B. P. Lathi and Z. Ding, Modern Digital and Analog Communication Systems, 4th ed., Oxford — chapter 4, for the envelope-detector conditions.
- L. W. Couch, Digital and Analog Communication Systems, 8th ed., Pearson — power and efficiency of standard AM.
- C. A. Balanis, Antenna Theory: Analysis and Design, 4th ed., Wiley — chapter 2, on why an electrically small antenna radiates so poorly.