Captive.

It is. It just is. Probably the best and only word to describe Ravel’s “Boléro” is to call it orgasmic. It is one of the great compositions of all time. A single theme repeated over and over, with only slight variation each time, always with greater intensity than the last time. I suppose acts like Godspeed You Black Emperor!, Sigur Rós, and Radiohead take many of their cues from that single composition, Boléro, whether intentionally, inspirationally or simply because it has affected the world of western music from that point on. It was composed in 1928 and featured in a really bad movie (so I’ve heard) called 10 starring Bo Derek and Dudley Moore. I first gave it a serious listen sometime after Elise and I got married. We both agreed that it was highly orgasmic. And oh-so tastefully composed and performed.

It was brought to my attention again by an article in Wired magazine. The article was written by a man who is working to perfect the computer programming of cochlear implants, which he himself has. They are meant for those who have lost all hearing. Every since he was 15, when his hearing was there yet in need of hearing aids, the music of “Boléro” touched him in a way that other compositions had not. His cochlear implant, gotten after he lost all hearing, allows him to converse with friends and co-workers, etc. The music of Ravel, however, is tasteless and monochrome with his new computer-age hearing aid. It is his desire to hear and experience “Boléro” in the same way as when he still had hearing.

So I just had to go listen to the composition again (for the first time), and I suddenly remembered why it is of such sublime beauty. One theme, lasting a little less than a minute, repeated over and over with slight variation and increase of dynamics, yet captivating for every second of its 15+ minutes. 1928 was the date of composition: it was the birth of minimalism.