Dying to music

noteWALKING THROUGH the living room the other day, the FM station was playing a nice classical work, and I thought, “That would be good to die to,” and I envisioned falling forward onto the ceramic floor, dead as that doornail.

I was in a good mood when the thought struck me, and dying in a good mood is desirable. Dying to music is common in movies, but I wonder how often it happens in real life. Not much, I think.

A sudden death, which is how I want it, would reduce the chances of dying to good music, something that likely requires planning. Which is best? Dying suddenly to no music or a prolonged demise to good music. The sudden death wins out because you want to go fast, music or not.

Good mood, fine music, healthy and sudden. That’s how I want to sail away. Of course, a sudden death contradicts the notion of healthy, but let’s imagine it was an unknown heart problem that brought down the curtain. Just thinking you’re healthy till the final moment is enough.

But if a sudden death isn’t in the cards, I would like some good music playing on Departure Day. Kitaro’s Light of the Spirit is the top pick, something I’ve loved since the late 1990s. Downing some ecstasy and turning on that Kitaro tune is a religious experience in itself.

Try it. You’ll see.

A close runner-up would be one of a number of songs by the appropriately named Dead Can Dance. A real standout is their Host of Seraphim, a fine piece to shuttle you off into that distant space where resides whatever God or Goddess you put your money on.

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(A close runner-up to Host of Seraphim is Yulunga. About the 3:18 mark on the video, it moves into high gear visually, going multicultural in a spectacularly fine way.)