I always try to put my self in the place of the people hearing anything for the first time. Sitting in some drafty barn of a palace hearing Eine Kleine Nachtmusik wash over you; hearing a Joplin rag in a slouch joint in Saint Louis; hearing Muddy Waters electrified for the first time at a house party in Chicago after the war; or hearing bop in a club in New York and being at sea for a moment, trying to catch your auditory breath and figure out the billowing phrases as they tumble out, fresh. Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker. 1952. It’s like you were crawling, and you see someone sprint by.