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I love this piece of music - and the voice? Incredible.

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Jonny

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It's the last song. Starts 15.32.

I like both opera and classical music, although as a rock guitar player at heart neither are my go-to genres.

But this (first heard on Steve Coogan & Rob Brydon's The Trip) moves me to tears every time. Sublime and inspirational. I often play the entire album this is from when writing.
 
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It's the last song. Starts 15.32.

I like both opera and classical music, although as a rock guitar player at heart neither are my go-to genres.

But this (first heard on Steve Coogan & Rob Brydon's The Trip) moves me to tears every time. Sublime and inspirational. I often play the entire album this is from when writing.

I love this too. I fell for Kiri Te Kanawa’s version after it was featured in The Year of Living Dangerously. Sublime.
 
I'll check out DK's version too.

As a imbecilic youth I used to refer to sopranos "screeching and caterwauling on and on." But, hey, I was young. What did I know?
 
Ah, the girlfriend-boyfriend cassettes. Those were the days. (I still have one - the cassette that is, not the boyfriend. And I have a cassette player too.)
My sons loved my old walkman's. Their friends had no idea what they were. :p

I love the trained voices singing in Lakota here.
 
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All our yesterdays here.

Sunday evenings. Hunkered down on the floor with our little portable push-button cassette tape recorders and a cheap as chips plastic mic recording the top 20 off a little transistor radio. Praying a parent didn't barge in to announce "tea's ready" during the ones you particularly wanted a copy of.

OK, so the sound quality was dire but we expected nothing better. There wasn't an alternative except to buy the records themselves. I never had the money.

What would today's kids make of that now what with super-clear instant streaming available simply by "asking" your digital assistant. :)

And of course... after that we had to go out and lick road clean wit tongue or we'd get the slipper before bed.
 
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All our yesterdays here.

Sunday evenings. Hunkered down on the floor with our little portable push-button cassette tape recorders and a cheap as chips plastic mic recording the top 20. Praying a parent didn't barge in to announce "tea's ready" during the ones you particularly wanted a copy of.

OK, so the sound quality was dire but we expected nothing better. There wasn't an alternative except to buy the records themselves. I never had the money.

What would today's kids make of that now what with super-clear instant streaming available simply by "asking" your digital assistants. :)

And of course... after that we had to go out and lick road clean wit tongue or we'd get the slipper before bed.
Ha. We dreamed of licking the road clean. All we had was an old dirt road full of ruts. We knew we'd moved up in the world when we got hot gravel road.
 
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