Interesting theory here

Some people argue that stand alone music, or absolute music as it is normally called, is what relates the most to the soul as it's free of any kind of definition you can put into words(Aside from music theory mumbo jumbo).

This is true...with that I begin my Fantasia example!

When I was young, I watched Fantasia a lot. It was just a great spark for my imagination. My favorite sequence was the setting of Stravinsky's Rite of Spring to the prehistory of the Earth. But after learning that the Rite of Spring is really music for a ballet about a pagan sacrificial ritual, I couldn't believe it...("that piece of music is WHAT??"). What happened was that this amazing piece of music became attached to the dinosaurs from Fantasia and I could no longer enjoy it without thinking of those stupid dinosaurs. This is what happens to me when I hear a huge backstory about a piece, like "such and such composer wrote this while his wife was ill" or "such and such symphony is about the Challenger disaster". I can still hear the music, but I'm not connecting it with my soul anymore; I'm just evaluating how closely it matches its description. I heard Debussy's "The Sea" before I knew it was even called that. I had this image in my mind of a certain beautiful grandeur. But after I learned that it was called "The Sea", all I thought about was "how much does this piece remind me of the sea?". I hope I'm being clear.

does this sorta parralel to the first half of your theory? =P

THE TABLES TURNED

UP! up! my Friend, and quit your books;

Or surely you'll grow double:

Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;

Why all this toil and trouble?

The sun, above the mountain's head,

A freshening lustre mellow

Through all the long green fields has spread,

His first sweet evening yellow.

Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife:

Come, hear the woodland linnet,

How sweet his music! on my life,

There's more of wisdom in it.

And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!

He, too, is no mean preacher:

Come forth into the light of things,

Let Nature be your teacher.

She has a world of ready wealth,

Our minds and hearts to bless--

Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,

Truth breathed by cheerfulness.

One impulse from a vernal wood

May teach you more of man,

Of moral evil and of good,

Than all the sages can.

Sweet is the lore which Nature brings;

Our meddling intellect

Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:--

We murder to dissect.

Enough of Science and of Art;

Close up those barren leaves;

Come forth, and bring with you a heart

That watches and receives.

This is true...with that I begin my Fantasia example!

When I was young, I watched Fantasia a lot. It was just a great spark for my imagination. My favorite sequence was the setting of Stravinsky's Rite of Spring to the prehistory of the Earth. But after learning that the Rite of Spring is really music for a ballet about a pagan sacrificial ritual, I couldn't believe it...("that piece of music is WHAT??"). What happened was that this amazing piece of music became attached to the dinosaurs from Fantasia and I could no longer enjoy it without thinking of those stupid dinosaurs. This is what happens to me when I hear a huge backstory about a piece, like "such and such composer wrote this while his wife was ill" or "such and such symphony is about the Challenger disaster". I can still hear the music, but I'm not connecting it with my soul anymore; I'm just evaluating how closely it matches its description. I heard Debussy's "The Sea" before I knew it was even called that. I had this image in my mind of a certain beautiful grandeur. But after I learned that it was called "The Sea", all I thought about was "how much does this piece remind me of the sea?". I hope I'm being clear.

I know what you're talking about. So maybe you should try to avoid the names of pieces. You can't always trust a literal output. Ignoring the name is not at all the best way to understand the piece, but if you prefer bathing in your joy, that's what I'd do! :)

I have this heirloom, which has been passed down to me through many generations. It's a watch, made by a watchmaker who didn't know anything about watchmaking. I've been told that he allegedly killed his master in a fit of anger when he tried to teach him how to handle tweezers.

It doesn't show time, and it looks like a big ugly blob, but my family treasures it, because it's made from gold and I assume it's valuable.

You know how when you listen to an amazing piece for the first time, let's say the first thing you loved which drew you to musical composition, it truly fills your heart with passion?

Knowledge takes away beauty,

Keep listening to the piece over and over and over and over again, and you start getting bored. You've heard and studied all the mechanics of it. The parts that gave you butterflies now have no effect on you, but you still know it's amazing for the reason of experience.

Human brain has the ability to learn and (after learned) filter out repeated patterns of audio signals. This is very useful (for eg.) if you live in a busy (and noisy) part of the city. :)

The same thing happens when you are listening to a CD-recording: listening it over and over makes your brain think: "Hey, it's a background noise, we should learn how to ignore it to free up capacity for more useful signals!" This is how your brain works and you cannot do anything against it. Since composers usually have a more developed hearing, they can learn "recorded noise" much faster than others. That's why it become boring! :(

BUT: A musical masterpiece is not just "dead" recorded audio signals!!! It can be conducted, performed, interpreted, sung, ... by many different artists/orchestras/choirs in many different ways - and not restricted only to one band or one specific person!

Try listenning to live concerts, but you have the option to join a choir or orchestra, too!

Giving is at least as good as getting. This is true for music as well: I think that's why this forum exists, too!

Cheer up! :)

I didn't read beyond the first page of this topic, but I'll say that, in order to not wear out a piece of music, I usually listen to it sparsely. In this way, I still enjoy pieces that I can sing from memory and know the ins and outs of. In other words, I completely reject this theory.