Music

For Mozart, composition was matter-of-fact. I have seen his original manuscript for the Symphony 36, 'The Linz.' It runs from first note to last note with barely an erasure or blot-out.

Not so, Beethoven, for whom composition was a herculean chore. In his original manuscript for his Symphony 3, 'Eroica,' there are holes in the paper from where he threw his pen in frustration, and great blocks of hastily crossed-out notes and edits.

Does this make one composer better than the other?

Not at all. Both Mozart and Beethoven are geniuses.

It's just that one had to work harder at it.

If music is supposed to be »good« for anyone, we are in the presence of two variables (not counting, the relative idea of goodness: how good is good?); first there are so many kinds of music or, in other words, so many things can be said to be music, that »music« all by itself is almost meaningless. You or me, or anyone are even less meaningful than any definition of music, because of their linguistic status as »shifters«. Their meaning is reduced to their reference in a given instance. If someone said to me: »music is good for you«, I would wonder what he is getting at. Military music does not strike me as good either for me or for anyone. Trumpets used to be associated with kings; does it mean that listineng to a trumpet volontary is a royalist choice? Social and musical paradigms shift as much as pronoun reference, over time. Music is what you make of it.

It's music, for I should know its voice among a thousand, and there are other voices in its roar.

The surest way to communicate with someone whose language you can't understand on a genuine wavelength.

Music is kinetic sculpture. Air set in motion over a period of time. If I could see the whole sculpture at once, would it still be music?

Without music life would be a mistake.

(Friedrich Nietzsche)

music is everything : you live your music , you die in your song , you can just cry and laugh and scream and just sit there quiet and listen to it and all of that at once . you know the words , you know every pause , every beat . you feel the pain , the happiness , the love , the dreams , the thoughts of the one who seem to sing that song only for you . and you are the only one who really loves it , understands it . you would kill for it , you would pay every price , you need it . music is a friend , a therapy .
there would be no me without my music ...

Music is the medicine of the mind.

(John Logan)

Is it possible to not like music at all?
What I mean is: You are sitting in your living room with a recent acquaintance, and you put on a CD...it could be any CD,...Bessie Smith...Soundgarden... Chopin...and he says, "Could you please turn that off? I don't like music.
Not just this music, but music in general. The concept of music. I don't like the beat, the rhythm, the harmony, the vocals, any of it. I don't listen to music in my home, in my car. I don't have any particular song running through my head at any time, and I like it that way."
Is that possible?

Music should be shared. Like Napster. Too bad about Napster. But there's still Napigator! And Aimster, and Bearshare, and Morpheus, and there will be more music. Then theres always the old warez mp3 sites. I came here looking for music to be shared. Pity some people just don't wanna share even though they are rich already. Like the RIAA sucks. I »napstered« that song. Cuz the RIAA sucks and I got a song that says so too. Unfortunately, the song sucked too. Too bad the guys who made it don't have better guitar skills. It could have used a techno beat too. I like techno. I found lots of classical techno after they filtered napster but before they shut off the official napster downloads.

Nevermind, my sound card is dead anyway. How do the rich expect me to buy a bundle of cds when I am saving up for a replacement sound card?

Starchild, on a mission of love
Starchild, fallen from the skies above
Lost forever in a dream
In a mescaline time machine
Starchild, in the danger zone
Starchild, now she?s all alone
Lost forever in a dream
In a mescaline time machine
Here she comes, burning like a supernova
Here she comes again
Starchild
Starchild, in the summer sky
Starchild, drinking of the poppy wine
Never ageing, never dying
Always laughing, never crying
Starchild, on the astral plane
Starchild, in a dream once again
Never ageing, never dying
Always laughing, never crying