With the news of composer Marvin Hamlisch's death, I am thinking of his song What I Did For Love. It's a song I played over and over and over on my piano. The lyrics (by Edward Kleban) are beautiful. But it is the piano intro, the steady porch swing quality of those early repeating notes-- that later come back to haunt again-- that is caught inside me.
It's interesting, the way music stays with you, how its rhythm becomes your rhythm. I always find it strange that you can hear a song in your head. All of us can do it. But how is it possible to hear without hearing? How does melody replay itself as memory?
It's been a while since I shared the Linda Eder love.
In memory of the people who give us the remarkable gift of song.