I miss waiting impatiently to hear a good song on the radio for the second time."Oh boy, I thought, do I know what he means. He writes of that time when music didn't obliterate the barriers of time and space as it does now. Today we can hear a song over and over and over again. On demand. Any hour of the day or night. We are our own disc jockey.
The enjoyment is not the same. The magic of a 'new' song is stillborn. Disappointment comes way too soon. Boredom is the result of limitless choices.
Irish author James Joyce wrote a famous short story titled The Dead in which a song reveals a devastating secret in the life of Gretta, wife to Gabriel. The song is "The Lass Of Aughrim" and it is sung at a gathering that includes this husband and wife. Gretta is greatly affected by the music and this effect is not lost upon her husband. When they are alone, he questions her and she responds by giving way to her emotions, revealing that the song was sung by a young man in her past whom she loved. The young man died and Gabriel learns that he has never been and will never be loved like that by this woman.
Today, I fear, "The Lass of Aughrim" could and would be played so many times that Gretta would grow sick of it.