crescendos

i was on the subway home tonight, and i was considering putting together a mix of all the songs that reach great crescendos. but i thought the final result may have too many peaks and troughs. part of the enjoyment of a record is arriving at the final apogee. the lull in the middle, only to reach one final and grandiose climax. i'm sure a porno star could tell you that a lifetime (or an hour) of perpetual climaxes would weaken the effect of one great peak.

tonight- actually a few songs ago- i sat down in suitable mood for a melancholy monday and put on Antony and the Johnson's I Am Bird Now. the opening track "Hope There's Someone" concludes with a rhapsody of voices and piano intermingling and cascading over just a few notes at various octaves. the chorus lasts for nearly a minute and is so overwhelming that you start to hear other voices within the cacophony. familiar voices. speaking in tongues. trapped behind the sound; looking for emancipation (or maybe comprehension.) and i strained my ears to concurrently grasp what they're saying and listen to the music as well. but in the end i cheated both. and the song was over before i was able to choose sides. but it was a fascinating experience. one that doesn't happen often enough, only happens when you're alone and when you're least expecting it.