Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
Keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
And there's no tellin' who
That it's namin'
For the loser now
Might be later to win
For the times they are a changin'
From “The Times They Are a-Changin'” Bob Dylan (1963 – from the eponymously named album.)
I don’t know about “best.” I’ve lived a lot of life. But we went to a Christmas concert in St. Louis Cathedral in New Orleans this past Christmas that was a pretty awesome experience (that I can still remember.)
As I've traveled around the globe,
I've felt the music from some souls --
Those who exude, in part or whole,
a secret and sacred rhythm.
And when their tunes did call to me
I felt a yearning to be free
to dance and sing, if out of key,
yet ever so resonantly.
Who could have known that I'd go deaf.
With ear to ground, nothing was left.
It felt like a horrible theft
from all (and yet received by none.)
Those who cross boundaries. William Blake with painting and poetry. Yue Fei with martial and poetic arts. Rabindranath Tagore with music and poetry. Da Vinci with painting and sculpture. Weird Al with accordion music and comedy.
Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen
Decidedly less funky, and the consolation that I would no longer be caught humming embarrassing earworms, like Sweet Caroline, would be thin.
I don’t. I could listen to instrumental music while writing or doing other mental work, but I can’t have anything with words / lyrics involved. It’s distracting and can warp my writing.
I’m not one for favorites; I think it’s a form of experiential laziness. That said, there is music that has particular emotional resonance for me because it’s what was playing where I was when I was when I was younger — mostly rock and indie rock.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 