We often read that our hearing is the last thing to go when we die. How true this is I don't know. How can anyone tell? But if it was, which piece of music would you like to hear as you breathed your last?
For me, it would be either i) bars 10-24, 2nd mov of Bartok's 5th string quartet or
ii) "In A Silent Way" (Live Version) from Weather Report's
" " album.
How about you?
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Music to pass away to.
The last will and testament---jake thackray
I, the under-mentioned, by this document
Do declare my true intentions, my last will, my testament.
When I turn up my toes, when I rattle my clack, when I agonise,
I want no great wet weepings, no tearing of hair, no wringing of hands,
No sighs, no lack-a-days, no woe-is-me's and none of your sad adieus.
Go, go, go and get the priest and then go get the booze, boys.
Death, where is thy victory? Grave, where is thy sting?
When I snuff it bury me quickly, then let carousels begin -
But not a do with a few ham sandwiches, a sausage roll or two and "A small port wine, please".
Roll the carpet right back, get cracking with your old Gay Gordons
And your knees up, shake it up, live it up, sup it up, hell of a kind of a time.
And if the coppers come around, well, tell them the party's mine, boys.
Let best beef be eaten, fill every empty glass,
Let no breast be beaten, let no tooth be gnashed.
Don't bother with a fancy tombstone or a big-deal angel or a little copper flower pot:
Grow a dog-rose in my eyes or a pussy-willow
But no forget-me-nots, no epitaphs, no keepsakes; you can let my memory slip.
You can say a prayer or two for me soul then, but - make it quick, boys.
Lady, if your bosom is heaving don't waste your bosom on me.
Let it heave for a man who's breathing, a man who can feel, a man who can see.
And to my cronies: you can read my books, you can drive around in my motor car.
And you can fish your trout with my fly and tackle, you can play on my guitar,
And sing my songs, wear my shirts. You can even settle my debts.
You can kiss my little missus if she's willing then, but - no regrets, boys.
Your rosebuds are numbered;
Gather them now for rosebuds' sake.
And if your hands aren't too encumbered
Gather a bud or two for Jake.
I, the under-mentioned, by this document
Do declare my true intentions, my last will, my testament.
When I turn up my toes, when I rattle my clack, when I agonise,
I want no great wet weepings, no tearing of hair, no wringing of hands,
No sighs, no lack-a-days, no woe-is-me's and none of your sad adieus.
Go, go, go and get the priest and then go get the booze, boys.
Death, where is thy victory? Grave, where is thy sting?
When I snuff it bury me quickly, then let carousels begin -
But not a do with a few ham sandwiches, a sausage roll or two and "A small port wine, please".
Roll the carpet right back, get cracking with your old Gay Gordons
And your knees up, shake it up, live it up, sup it up, hell of a kind of a time.
And if the coppers come around, well, tell them the party's mine, boys.
Let best beef be eaten, fill every empty glass,
Let no breast be beaten, let no tooth be gnashed.
Don't bother with a fancy tombstone or a big-deal angel or a little copper flower pot:
Grow a dog-rose in my eyes or a pussy-willow
But no forget-me-nots, no epitaphs, no keepsakes; you can let my memory slip.
You can say a prayer or two for me soul then, but - make it quick, boys.
Lady, if your bosom is heaving don't waste your bosom on me.
Let it heave for a man who's breathing, a man who can feel, a man who can see.
And to my cronies: you can read my books, you can drive around in my motor car.
And you can fish your trout with my fly and tackle, you can play on my guitar,
And sing my songs, wear my shirts. You can even settle my debts.
You can kiss my little missus if she's willing then, but - no regrets, boys.
Your rosebuds are numbered;
Gather them now for rosebuds' sake.
And if your hands aren't too encumbered
Gather a bud or two for Jake.
Sex God
every opportunity to get some Brian in
play it love it and smile
wrats (splitters)
Sex God
Seasons in the sun - Terry Jacks
Or anything by Leonard Cohen the miserable bastard.
Or anything by Leonard Cohen the miserable bastard.
Sex God
For me it's the classics:
Concierto d'Aranjuez - the brass band version - total heart-strings in knots.
or Alegri's Miseri - those young voices soaring to the heavens backed by the rich tones of the tenors and baritones. It's like dying and going to heaven every time I hear it.
(or, like others, a bloody loud Bat out of Hell).
Concierto d'Aranjuez - the brass band version - total heart-strings in knots.
or Alegri's Miseri - those young voices soaring to the heavens backed by the rich tones of the tenors and baritones. It's like dying and going to heaven every time I hear it.
(or, like others, a bloody loud Bat out of Hell).
Sex God
Quote by __random_orbit__
Do They Owe Us a Living?
Crass
lp
'course they fucking do !
the mercy seat Nick Cave
or...
It would all depend on my mood at the time. If I'm happy or content I'd love to go listening to J.S. Bach -- Double concerto for two violins in D minor
The passion and energy of that piece is just absolute magic. Bliss!
However if I were broken hearted it would have to be Puccini's 'E lucevan le stelle' from Tosca.
Here's dear old Placido singing it...
The passion and energy of that piece is just absolute magic. Bliss!
However if I were broken hearted it would have to be Puccini's 'E lucevan le stelle' from Tosca.
Here's dear old Placido singing it...
Quote by awol
It would all depend on my mood at the time. If I'm happy or content I'd love to go listening to J.S. Bach -- Double concerto for two violins in D minor
The passion and energy of that piece is just absolute magic. Bliss!
However if I were broken hearted it would have to be Puccini's 'E lucevan le stelle' from Tosca.
Here's dear old Placido singing it...
Interesting one that.. a line towards the end is "I have never enjoyed life so much"
Sex God
Sally Maclenane
Quote by GnV
Interesting one that.. a line towards the end is "I have never enjoyed life so much"
I think, that aria without its operatic context is not clear.
That line actually says "non ho amato mai tanto la vita!" or I have not loved life so much.
Here Placido Domingo plays Caravadossi an artist/painter waiting for his execution. He is going to be executed by order of the town's Chief of Police for having helped a political refugee. To complicate things the Chief of Police covets Caravadossi's fiance the beautiful Tosca and this is his chance to have her by getting rid of Caravadossi.
The aria that Placido Domingo sings is Caravadossi's farewell to Tosca, telling her how wonderful life was with her but now how desperate that he is about to die, etc.
The whole thing ends tragically with lots people dying (melo)dramatically - as good Italian operas usually do!
Sex God
Interesting thread this.
I think for me it would have to be Adagio for Strings. Theres a link here though i would ignore the graphics, just listen to the sounds for this one, couldnt really think of anything better to drift into oblivion with
I think for me it would have to be Adagio for Strings. Theres a link here though i would ignore the graphics, just listen to the sounds for this one, couldnt really think of anything better to drift into oblivion with
Quote by Pete_sw
Interesting thread this.
I think for me it would have to be Adagio for Strings. Theres a link here though i would ignore the graphics, just listen to the sounds for this one, couldnt really think of anything better to drift into oblivion with
My favourite too Pete.. did you notice how Leonard Slatkin, the conductor, weeps at the end of this especially moving piece of music?
Quote by Pete_sw
Interesting thread this.
I think for me it would have to be Adagio for Strings. Theres a link here though i would ignore the graphics, just listen to the sounds for this one, couldnt really think of anything better to drift into oblivion with
My favourite piece of music ever though I can't listen to it at the moment. Last time I did was my best mate's funeral last December :cry:
Quote by TheLovelyOne
It's not music qua music I'd want; I think I'd like to hear the voices of the people I love the most - that is music to my ears anyway. :love:
Yes I'd certainly agree with you on that. That would be far nicer. Perhaps I envisage popping my clogs on my own! The voice of a loved one would always be special. :love:
