A soft voice on the radio informed me I was listening to the immortal Bach. Then she played some Mozart like what she’d just said wasn’t at all fantastic.
My sense of time has never been keen. Hours go by like seconds, a minute can seem like a week, but I could have sworn Bach died hundreds of years ago. To find out the man was immortal? I was completely blown away.
Where was he? What was he doing with his life that never ends? What would anyone do with all that time?
I’m no expert, but I have listened to a lot of classical music. That and film scores are always in the background when I’m working, so I think I would have heard if he’d written anything new in the last three centuries.
Half the Beatles were gone. Freddy Mercury, Billy Holliday, Patsy Cline, Johnny Cash and many more of my favorite musical legends had passed on. Bill Withers had died just that year. But Bach, by the report, still remained.
Spin never talked about it. Rolling Stone never did a piece. The guy had never been honored with a lifetime achievement ceremony on any of the award shows.
Was I, I wondered, the only person who wasn’t aware one of the greatest composers in the history of music was still among us but apparently living underground like a musical Salman Rushdie? Was I the only one who cared?
It was irrelevant, I decided. Even if I was the last to learn and the only one interested, I was going to find some answers. No. Scratch that. I was going to find Bach, the Immortal Bach, and I was going to convince him to make music again…