The horn glissandos at the end of the Firebird by Stravinsky.
The horn glissandos in “Short Ride in a Fast Machine” by John Adams.
The fugue in the Fourth Movement of Beethoven’s Ninth, right after the Turkish March - at least in a Bernstein version I have. The tension builds and builds to an almost impossible level until it resolves and goes back to the chorus.
Siegfried’s funeral march.
Every time Cissy Houston comes in on the background vocals on Aretha Franklin’s “Ain’t No Way” it sends chills down my spine. First one is at 1:03
You beat me to it. It’s like approaching the peak on a roller coaster, right before you plummet over.
I also like it when guitars go ka-chunk.
In Smetana’s Ma Vlast, in Vltava “The Moldau,” the rapids, where the high woodwinds (piccolos?) pipe in alarm.
Saint Saens Third Symphony, the “Organ Symphony,” when the music gets soft, and softer, and softer yet – AND THEN THE ORGAN KICKS IN!!! Usually startles me half to death, but brilliant!
Vivaldi’s Concerto in A Minor for two Violins in echo: the echo effect, where the two violins lead and follow.
Respighi’s Feste Romana, the fourth movement, depicting the pilgrims on their long, slow march to go to Rome: the scene where they see Rome, and the cries of joy pass back along the line of march. You can all but hear it. “Rome! We see it!”
(Also, the first movement, where the wolves are let into the arena to tear the Christians. Haunting.)
Bach’s Magnificat in D, “Esurientes,” where Mary says, of God, “He hath filled the hungry with good things : and the rich he hath sent empty away.” At the very end, Bach sends the orchestra away without actually filling in the last note. The movement is not quite complete, mimicking the hunger of the wealthy.
Agreed with “tingle moments”. For me, it’s the very opening strains of Patsy Cline’s Sweet Dreams and the opening note of Etta James’, “At Last”
Count me in on that as well. I always feel weird about claiming that as a favorite musical moment, as I don’t know exactly what differentiates it from any other short instrumental break in a pop song, but I love it.
One moment for me that comes to mind is the last 35 or so seconds of Jethro Tull’s Thick as a Brick. After 40 mins of kind of rambling early-era prog, the song flows into a short reprise of the opening acoustic guitar theme and lyrics. The first time I listened to this song (my mid-20s), that final button blew my mind.
Another prog one is Genesis’s Back in NYC. The track kind of builds in orchestrative complexity throughout, and right at 4:17, there’s a synth (and maybe bass guitar also) gliss downwards to land on a deep pedal bass tone, that to me is incredibly bad-ass (also, sounds best on a stereo with good bass and/or subwoofer, and turned up loud).
The coda of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. When I was in language school at Middlebury, I had free access to the college’s astronomical observatory (it was summer). The first Saturday night I was out observing, I had a tape of the Fifth playing in the background. After a** long **search, I finally found the Ring Nebula (M57) near the zenith just as midnight pealed and the coda started to play. It was a great personal triumph!
From And We Danced, by the Hooters:
The lines “she’s walking my way…hear the music play as she says ‘are we getting too close? Do we dare to get closer?’”
That moment in Creep by Radiohead.
Stravinsky’s “Firebird Suite.” In Fantasia 2000, it’s where the volcano (read: Firebird) comes alive to start kicking butt.
Van Morrison’s line “come on, girl” from “Into The Mystic”
The line, “Dream up, dream up, let me fill your cup with the promise of a man” from “Harvest” by Neil Young
The full on harmony in “Because” on side 2 of Abbey Road
The background girls singing, “call him” behind Erykah Badu on “Tyrone”
The point in Kashmir where Robert Plant’s voice blends with Jimmy Page’s guitar. Absolutely beautiful.
The final two minutes of Firebird turn me into one enormous goosebump.
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I’ll try to describe my other favorite classical goosebumper. 45 seconds of ecstasy with JS Bach, in the** (Passacaglia and) Fugue in C-minor**. This is “how it seems to me” - a little slack would be appreciated. Thank you.
Throughout the Passacaglia the theme has been repeating in C-minor. When we get to the fugue, the piece stays primarily in Cm; there are excursions into other keys, but by now we've been imprinted: Cm is Home.At about 11:14, as the main theme is restated in G-minor, we’re obviously starting to head back to home base. Solid, resolved, Cm.
By 11:24, it’s gathered steam and is now cascading towards Cm, and
moments later we’re there, but
a split-second later at 11:35, that E-natural in the bass line signals another shift, we’re going past Cm into F-minor. (!)
It’s as if the music had some much momentum that rather than landing on Cm, it overshot the runway and slid past Home into the next key down. Gooseflesh ensues.
At 11:42 the high descending chromatic line (Ab-G-Gb-F) has a melancholy beauty the keeps the goosebumps pumping
at 12:00 that high F# rings stands out, temporary confusion…
and then it all gets well. For me, Bach at his most transcendental.
I have a few, but they’re unusual, and difficult to describe.
There are lots of pieces of music that I love, but if you’re looking for moments, then I have two. One is a particular chord in Bach’s Little Fugue in G, especially as performed by Walter Carlos on his album Walter Carlos by Request
Another is the almost climactic (peniclimactic?) chord in Walter Reed’s band classic Russian Christmas Music.
Alfred Reed? Great composer. 
Some great choices above, wow.
I could post examples all night of the Beatles but so could everyone else. For now I’ll stick with my first major musical crush, Sting (both solo & w/the Police).
I Burn for You (this live version from his solo Bring on the Night tour) has, at least in this version, no less than two such magical moments. The first is also in the Police’s recording as well: 1:15, the transition to the new key after the second verse. Then, unique to this live recording, the song goes off into a new direction that’s a showcase for amazing drummer Omar Hakim. Starting at about 3:05, Hakim builds the song to an explosive ending with one of the most incredible solos ever. Has to be heard (and seen) to be believed.
Why Should I Cry for You. Even though the song as a whole isn’t one of my favorites, one section slays me. I admit it’s partly personal: my mother died about a year before the album (The Soul Cages) came out, and as it happens, Sting’s parents both died around the same time. Knowing this song was written for his father, I connect very deeply with the sentiment behind it. Anyway, the specific moment is from 1:51 and continues for the next several measures–once again, it’s a transition after singing two verses fairly identically. But this time it’s not a key change; he just lifts the vocal line up an octave and the orchestration goes from spare to full as he sings the “Dark angels follow me over a godless sea” verse. And for whatever reason, that just tears me up.
Going back to classical: picking out a favorite moment from the short choral piece Cantique de Jean Racine by Faure is a bit like picking a favorite child–I love them all. But if I must, I’ll go with the middle section that begins at 2:45 and leads to a moment of exquisite beauty with a crescendo and then immediate backing off to piano at 3:20.
Another much less-known choral piece I love is And I Saw a New Heaven, by Edgar Bainton. The text is biblical, from Revelations, and although I’m not Christian or even any religion really, I find almost unbearably moving the section that begins at around 2:38 to the end, using the text: “And God shall wipe all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be anymore pain, for the former things are passed away.” Again, it’s a personal thing related to my grief over my mom’s way-too-early death, and the fact that she suffered from depression throughout most of my life. The sentiment that if there were a heaven, that something would finally ease my mother’s pain–and coupled with this beatific, soothing music–feels cathartic to me.
Will probably post more, because I can’t stand not including Bernstein, Sondheim, or Elgar.
I still love The Phantom of the Opera. All I Ask of You and Music of the Night - when the orchestra swells about half way through, is best I can describe. Still gives me chills. It is so lush and romantic.
Peter Frampton - Do You Feel - the guitar work, at the beginning - it’s like a spiral of little gold sparkles swirling around me.
Hall and Oates - there’s a moment in Your Kiss Is On My List when the guitars kick in at the end that give me the same feeling.
Bob Seeger’s “Old Time Rock and Roll”: right after the a capella singing of the chorus, there is that great drum roll.
Seconding “in the air tonight” and “creep”.