h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

You know how some pieces of music affect you the same way, no matter when you hear them, or in what circumstances? Maybe it's because you heard them at a certain time early in your life, and you've forgotten that context, but your mind hasn't forgotten the emotions and the feelings, and they all come back perfectly when you hear the first few seconds of the music.

Moonlight Serenade (written by Glenn Miller) does that for me...and I've not much idea why. It's a wonderfully constructed, and very emotional piece of music - or perhaps it's more emotive than emotional. With today's 'perfect' digital recordings, the original Miller recording sounds almost reassuringly low quality, with plenty of noise, scratches and scuffles...after all it must be over 60 years old now...and yet whenever I hear it, it reaches out across all those years as if it was written yesterday. The imperfections seem simply to augment its perfection.

You may not know what I'm talking about, or you may know a piece of music that makes you feel this way - in which case you know what a wonderful experience it is.

Oh yes - either way, if you ever get the chance to see the movie of Glenn Miller's life story (starring James Stewart - see http://us.imdb.com/Title?0047030 ), do watch it. It's simple and magical.


 
 
 

Yes, I know exactly what you are talking about. (although I am only 21 and still remember the cause of most of the feelings that any particular song calls up) I find that the same works for smells. Now those are more elusive in my memory banks. Sometimes I'll get a sort of familiar nausea when I smell something that has a strong tie to a part of my life. It's odd really.

I don't know how old you are Tim, but whenever I hear ANY pop song from the 80s, I'm immediately transported back to school - happy carefree days!

Although I'm a digital album collector (either I buy it or I don't...), I can always listen to old jazz recordings and hear them enhanced by the scratches and fluff and narrow frequency response, etc. I'm with you - it makes it so much more 'authentic'.

I'm always reminded of a very good definition of 'beauty' as it pertains to art, as laid down by Leonardo da Vinci. Even when he was still alive, he was drawn into a number of conversations about Mona Lisa's smile, and how quirky it was. He always thought that the most beautiful things were a combination of purity, slightly infected by imperfection.

The tiny mole on a perfectly smooth cheek - the buzz and whine of a small plane in the distance in an otherwise silent blue sky - the little scratches on yester-year recordings. 'Perfect' things are plain and featureless, and never remind you of anything that you can catch your mind on. It's the imperfections that make up a large part of the essence of an experience.

Supermodels? Every imperfection rubber-stamped over in Photoshop? A mistake, I think! Still...