Following the Unheard
March 26th, 2009 Posted in classical music, nielsen
My mp3 player listens to music alone. Sometimes, starting it up as I enter the outside, it begins playing a piece which was not what I left it with. There is an obvious explanation for this: it so much enjoys the music I listen to that it conducts private performances, hidden safely within the black headphone cord spaghetti. I’m pretty sure that’s it.
Sometimes this misbehavior results in serendipity. For example: this morning. As usual, I skipped down the gleaming, freshly painted steps of my house, brimming with enthusiasm for the day ahead. As I pranced down our path, the family of bunnies in our yard (the Benjamins) paused their game of jump-rope, just long enough to call out a cheerful “top o’ the morning, mister Smith!”. The widely grinning sun tipped his sunglasses and gave me a thumbs up, before removing an embroidered white handkerchief from his back pocket and wiping the perspiration from his forehead. The milkman whistled Frere Jacques as he clinked and clanked merrily up the cobblestones.
Everything seemed so normal and boring, so average.
Then came the shocker. As I pressed the play button on my mp3 player, unfamiliar music wafted violently into the sides of my head. And it was awesome. I swear to god I didn’t leave it paused there before, it was like, providence, or something.
It’s the Nielsen string quartet no. 2. It’s got that funky not-quite-tonal thing going on, which totally floats my boat, and carries my tote, and tethers my goat. If I listen to it more and really get into it I’ll give you more detailed feedback than fanciful caprine (frickin’ word of the day right there, folks) wordplay.
