A meditation on exploring a once-familiar soundtrack from one’s earlier life:
I think there’s a pretty simple explanation. Much of musicality is prediction; like comedy, music satisfies by fulfilling expectations in often unexpected ways. The perfection of Bach is best appreciated when the listener is teetering on the edge of fully understanding the pattern. Things are clear without being obvious.
Old songs are obvious without being clear. You know moments perfectly, but can’t recall how the patterns go together. The moment one song finishes I know the opening of the next, but I don’t recognise the song itself for a while after. Everything is backwards. Songs are shorter than I recall, but the album longer. Worse. The songs are the same in their finest detail, but utterly different to their memory. It’s like waking up having fallen asleep on your arm. There is something there completely of you, but totally alien.
There’s something strange going on tonight. But I feel fine.
I was surprised at the Olde Diske used in this experiment (I feel a little older as a result). I have most of the band’s oeuvre in my iPod, so it’s not quite the same experience for me when I hear those familiar strains. I think early 70’s Yes would do it for me.