Ha, yeah, how many times i willingly made an ass of myself in a Tower records store, trying to sing half-remembered lyrics and tune to some song, to see if someone there would recognize it, name it, help me find the album. Once I know now that I was trying to ID the country track The Man That Turned My Mama On.
When I first heard part of it on the radio, I was driving in heavy traffic back up the Jersey Turnpike, having dropped someone off at the Newark airport, and then I was cursing like a longshoreman because the DJ cut the end and went directly to commercial without saying "... and that's Tanya Tucker with..." -- I'm lucky I didn't wreck the car.
Oh, yes, I do so get this.
And understand it and relate to it.
One morning, (yes, it was a morning), oh, around twenty years ago, I was - idly, in that relaxed state of not-quite-total-immersion, calmly focussed, nice classical music on in the background, soothing stuff - sitting on a sofa, in the flat I rented, (a lovely city centre flat, in a converted distillery) which we shared - Decent Brother was attending classes at the (18th century) Law Society/Law School five minutes walk away, we could see his building from the living room balcony, whereas my own antique university where I taught was a thirty minute walk away, the only time in my life I enjoyed exercise - while grading student term papers, when the classical music station began playing the piece I now know to be Soler's Fandango, which I had never, ever, ever, heard until then.
This turned out to be one of those mornings where I asked myself where had this stunning piece of music been all of my life?
Anyway, there was that moment when I realised that this was really nice, actually quite lovely, music. Then, there was the moment the music insisted on interrupting my concentration and invading my mind; the moment when it struck me as intriguing - and somehow strangely compelling; and then, there was the moment when the student essay (paper) no longer registered, - I could no longer concentrate, for this piece of music was not just extraordinary, it was vivid, compelling, stupefying, electric, astonishing - and this was a piece of Baroque music! Baroque music electrifying? - and somehow, without (consciously) realising it, the student paper I was in the process of grading was set down, surprisingly gently, on the sofa, while I sat there, utterly still, hardly daring to breathe, stunned with stupefied delight; there was a subsequent moment - when I was consumed, devoured - by this piece, and listened (avidly) - and increasingly arrested, almost holding my breath, following each note with increasing, astonished and astounded delight - until it eventually ended.
And, long before that, while the student paper I was grading sat - still - on the sofa, my attention was fully focussed on the radio, my hands were occupied with pen (a fountain pen, the very one that graded the student term papers) and a grabbed piece of paper (from my own lecture notes) to take down the details of this insanely compelling piece of music when it ended and the presenter (I hoped) would have had the wit (or, otherwise, homicide might have been contemplated) to furnish me with the details of this simply superlative piece of music.
Actually, I have rarely been so ecstatic on first hearing a piece of music, and - to this day - this remains one of my very own personal favourites.
And yes, I did, subsequently pay visits to both Tower records (and Virgin records) - this story dates from just over twenty years ago - a time when there were music stores staffed by enthusiasts - music stores complete with specialist departments.
I found one enthusiastic, informed, not-at-all-patronising - but perfectly delightful - young man who could offer me two different versions (recordings) of the Fandango by the composer I now knew went by the name of Antonio Soler - so, I was offered two versions of Soler's Fandango (yes, one came complete in a double album of his other music - and yes, nothing, but, nothing else, on those two CDs is a patch on that electrifying Fadango, but - and here, I am with
@Herdfan - the pleasure that one track has given me has more than amply repaid the price of that exquisite double CD bought twenty years ago).
Reader, I bought them both.
And, the student essays - term papers -- were reluctantly returned to and graded, with Soler's Fandango still whispering to me in a mad ear worm; and no, the students didn't suffer - not in the least.
