First there's music and then there's the alchemy of magically blended notes. In the class of perfect music, one of my favourite additions would have to be "Brick in the Wall". It's old, it's been played over a 1,000 times and it's been praised in every way I know. But the charm of that song will never die.
The best way to listen to any song would be out of a CD, with a really good set of headphones. It's the only way to make the notes shoot right out at you. And when this song begins, you just know it's going to live in your head, find it's way to some deep crevice in your brain.
It's the beat. The kind of beat that makes your heart change its rhythm. It begins and ends all at one time, stretching out in it's soft yet restless bass, sprinkled with the frequent rise and fall of sharp notes that are sometimes gut-grabbing undertones or sweetly suffocating overtones. It seeps under my skin like vodka vapour that rises from a broken bottle with painfully beautiful broken edges.
The guitar solo, ah! It gushes out like a smooth gulp of whiskey, warm and tastefully bland springing out of nowhere, always taking me by surprise. I know it's sitting half way down the song but somehow, it manages to jump right out and squeeze me hard around my waist.
The song flows like an angry river, now resounding all around me and now barely a whisper I can hear. The rage, the young cynicism, the old dissatisfaction, the ominous helplessness, the permanent damage…until the silence takes over…spreading out like molten lava...and then it crashes in by brain. Deep inside my head, the notes explode in the final crescendo…and lifts itself up in fumes of mad hashish.
Bliss.

*the owner of this blog is a slave to the most sinful of all these... the evil sorcery of hedonism…called music.