duncan
flâneur in training
I had an odd little epiphany tonight. Listening to a newly acquired CD of the Beethoven Eroica symphony (#3) while doing some dishes, somewhere in the first movement I stopped dead and asked, "where's the dip?"
What was missing was a mastering defect that had long been engraved in my head as part of this symphony. As a teenager and budding classical music fan, my two main sources of recordings were the public library and the cutout LP rack of a store at a nearby mall, the latter of which had a seemingly endless supply of cheap Everest classical records. I think my Eroica was the old Joseph Krips / LSO Everest pressing; I might be mistaken about that, but whatever it was, somewhere in the opening movement there was a bit of stretched master tape, or something, that caused the pitch of the entire orchestra to waver for a fraction of a second. And like all my records back then, I must have listened to it many dozens of times.
Fast forward to today. I'm an aging cuss now and somewhere along the line my aesthetics had a broad falling out with old Ludwig -- actually along with most of the music of the late classical / early romantic period, and that's been a significant hole in my music collection as an adult. It's even possible that I haven't heard a performance of the Eroica in about four decades. But this week a modern recording of it showed up as a freebie extra in a box of SACDs purchased on AK's bartertown. Here I am listening to it in the background and being startled by that one moment passing without the pitch dip that belonged there, dammit. And it made me think about how bizarre it is that memory can be so persistent. How much music have I heard over a lifetime, and how could that little detail be so stuck.
Any similar stories? Hell, I'll take the long shot and ask, does anyone happen to recognize the description of the old recording I'm talking about?
What was missing was a mastering defect that had long been engraved in my head as part of this symphony. As a teenager and budding classical music fan, my two main sources of recordings were the public library and the cutout LP rack of a store at a nearby mall, the latter of which had a seemingly endless supply of cheap Everest classical records. I think my Eroica was the old Joseph Krips / LSO Everest pressing; I might be mistaken about that, but whatever it was, somewhere in the opening movement there was a bit of stretched master tape, or something, that caused the pitch of the entire orchestra to waver for a fraction of a second. And like all my records back then, I must have listened to it many dozens of times.
Fast forward to today. I'm an aging cuss now and somewhere along the line my aesthetics had a broad falling out with old Ludwig -- actually along with most of the music of the late classical / early romantic period, and that's been a significant hole in my music collection as an adult. It's even possible that I haven't heard a performance of the Eroica in about four decades. But this week a modern recording of it showed up as a freebie extra in a box of SACDs purchased on AK's bartertown. Here I am listening to it in the background and being startled by that one moment passing without the pitch dip that belonged there, dammit. And it made me think about how bizarre it is that memory can be so persistent. How much music have I heard over a lifetime, and how could that little detail be so stuck.
Any similar stories? Hell, I'll take the long shot and ask, does anyone happen to recognize the description of the old recording I'm talking about?
