the best music ever (pt 1)
Four men slip unassumingly onto the stage. They choose instruments: a piano, a trumpet, a violin and the drums. The piano plays, a note that holds on until it’s just a gentle resonant hum from the instrument. Then the trumpet, blown gently, it makes a noise like the wind, puffing and gusting around us. The violin is softly caressed with the bow: another resonant murmur emerges. The drums are tapped with brushes, the mottled noise of quiet rain emerges soon followed by the bass of thunder. The audience is silent, captivated by this wintry scene, by these men who can make such softness so enveloping and expansive.
Later a crescendo of shrill noise holding on for so long, so so long, as the drummer bows at a symbol, and the squeezebox bellows its note and the violin saws fast and steady and the trumpeter simply whistles. The noise fills up the room, you suck it up too until you’re so full you’re going to burst, then it breaks and you let out a sigh of amazement.
And then scratchy, raspy noises punctuated thrice, just three brief moments and no more, by a violin note and a choral cry from the trumpeter and it’s so beautiful I almost cry.