I like the 1812 Overture and Carmina Burana, as well as Fortunate Son and the “where have you gone Joe Dimaggio” line in Mrs. Robinson, among others, but my favorite would have to be the guitar solo (towards the end) in Stairway to Heaven. Simply breathtaking.
YES YES YES!!! I first heard that piece in the movie The Competition with Richard Dreyfus and Amy Irving years ago. I immediately got it on CD and it instantly became my favorite piece for a long time, with the moment you cited as one of my favorite musical moments anywhere.
I have to admit, I’ve never heard the majority of the songs you guys mentioned. That’s partly because I’m too young, and wasn’t around when those songs were popular.
Anyway, I guess one of my favorite moments is toward the end of Pachelbel’s Canon in D when the melody gets more upbeat (the first time it uses eighth notes, if I’m not mistaken). On the other hand, I love the beginning of the piece too.
Also, the single guitar note after “How about the power…to move you?” in Tenacious D’s Wonderboy.
I really need to expand my CD collection…
The only thing that comes to mind are a couple moments in A Murder of One, by the Counting Crows.
First that transition from the Hammond organ in the background, to the guitars and baseline suddenly punching in, is great. Second, right toward the very second, where Adam Duritz goes from slowly repeating “I am feathered by the moonlight falling down on me” in the quick “Change, change, change!” that closes out the song. It’s a great vocal transition, very emotional (of course, ALL of Duritz’s singing is very emotional) and really strong. Good stuff.
Waitaminute, that’s no Hammond… silly me.
The moment in Pink Floyd’s Echoes after the long atonal part when the bass note, after hovering nearly forever a half-step higher, finally drops quietly into place and sets up the forthcoming minor 5-3-1-2 sequence to follow.
The final little rise of baccanalian music at the end of the second third of Wagner’s Tannhaüser Overture just before the modified pilgrim’s music, this time in 4/4, comes in, and you know it is coming…it lifts up for one last frill and then the HUGE slow deliberate brass comes in trimphantly in its lower octave solemnity…oh yeah…
In a similar vein, the strain in the final (“the Sea”) movement of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade, the second time around in the frenetic portion where the stacatto trumpets are followed by the last 4-3-2-3 sequence just before the final waves start to break…then there’s a moment when the deep bass string and brass growl and churn and (if you’ve got it properly cranked to 11 and tiny trails of blood are leaking out your ears) you can feel the vibrations in the pit of your stomach and you KNOW the waves are about to blow you away…
I loathe Pachelbel’s Canon. But then, I used to be a cello player, which explains it.
I think we’re talking about the same one. The sound that keeps growing and growing and growing like a wave and then it crashes climactically. Which happens twice. Or are you talking about the tone after the second crash but before the jibberish of the inner circle?
When you come to think of it, Pink Floyd has 3 or 4 great Gilmour solo lead-ins in each album, “Time” is another great solo lead-in that I can think of right now.
Something else about “The Wall” album is when the men’s choir kicks in on “Bring The Boys Back Home”, erie but strong and one of the loudest parts of the whole album…
Dire Straits…Mark Knopfler singing the first verse “Where Do You Think You’re Going?” and the guitar creates a strong inflection in his voice as he talks/sings that verse…
I’m done for now…
Reading this thread has reminded me of several others, which is a shame because I don’t know enough about music to describe them adequately:
in Aaron Copland’s Rodeo: Hoedown (the “Beef: It’s What’s for Dinner” music), the different sections of the orchestra play the same rhythm for a few measures, from the trumpets, to the violins, then the woodwinds, and then all at once the entire orchestra picks it up and pounds the hell out of it. It’s so majestic and powerful you get this crystal-clear image of every Western you’ve ever seen combined at once, like a Max Headroom blipvert.
in Disneyland’s Space Mountain ride (no, I’m serious!), the music which hardly ever plays anymore was a space surf-guitar version of Saint-Saens’ Carnival of the Animals, performed by Dick Dale. When the comm voice says “We have ignition,” followed by Dale’s first trademark guitar riff, it’s like a religious experience. (It helps that the ride takes off right at that moment, too.)
in “Isobel” by Bjork, the first time the strings swell during the refrain. (I’m guessing that’s what it’s called; it’s the “When she does it she means to…” part).
and the opening riff to “Unchained” by Van Halen is one of the greatest moments in rock. In fact, I’m having a hard time right now thinking of anything that compares.
John Lennon - “I just believe in me…”
-bbb-
Too many, about which I can say too much. I start acting like a tuning fork when I hear something that hits me hard, and I feel my stomach get butterflies. So, a couple of choices, out of lots and lots:
Helmet, “Like I Care” from Aftertaste - part of the trick in listening to the cut is figuring out all the things swimming in the mix. Jane Scarpotoni plays (I think) two cello parts in the song, and there’s a gorgeous “buried” lead guitar part that surfaces only in the second line of the first chorus (hard left channel) and in the title repititions at the end (panning across the stereo image). First time I heard it, after years of listening to the song, was one night as I was dozing on the couch. It jumped right out at me.
Pat Metheny, “Reich: Electric Counterpoint, Movement 3” - Shifting metric signatures, 11 different guitar parts, 2 bass parts, wide stereo spread. I love the bass parts in particular, because you can shift the balance on your receiver and hear the song totally differently, three different ways. It’s a little funkier/almost disco when they’re played together, but closer to the Meters’ holes-in-the-rhythm approach when played separately. Quite possibly the most interesting modern classical piece I’ve ever heard (Steve Reich wrote it in 1987, Metheny recorded all the parts for it in 1988). This is paired on CD with another Reich piece for the Kronos Quartet, called Different Trains.
XTC, “Wake Up” from The Big Express - Another wide stereo spread. If you listen to the left channel, it sounds like the guitar’s playing forcebeat; if you listen to the right channel, it’s a reggae feel on the offbeats. Heard together, you never really notice all the stuff going on. And the angelic voices at song’s end…oh, wow.
Bruce Kaphan, Slider: Ambient Excursions For Pedal Steel Guitar (the whole album) - Sold as new age or space music, but much closer in feel to Meddle-era Pink Floyd. Kaphan has played as a guest with R.E.M., Chris Isaak and The Black Crowes, among others. Everyone I play this album for loves it on first listen, because it’s not rock, not country, not quite anything else…it simply exists in a world all its own, and yet it feels like coming home, or like the music you’d hear in your head on a night in summer, stargazing.
Oh, and maybe what’s in my sig. It says it all.
The sig, which decided not to grace me with its presence. Grf. Let’s try again:
OK, can I be a dork and pick one from musical theatre?
WARNING: Plot spoilers ahead!
In the musical, “Sweeney Todd,” title character is a barber who returns from years of being wrongly imprisoned to be told that he beloved wife, Lucy, poisoned herself after being raped by the corrupt judge that sent Todd to prison. Eventually, Todd loses touch with reality a bit, and starts slaughtering everyone who gets in the way of his quest for revenge. In the song in which he loses his mind well and truly, he sings the line… “And my Lucy lies in ashes” to a big, dark melody.
This is not my favorite musical moment.
My favorite moment comes much later. There is a completely insane beggar woman who has been wandering about the fringes of the plot for the entire show. Toward the end of the play, Todd catches her wandering somewhere she shouldn’t be and cuts her throat. As he does, the orchestra suddenly explodes with a loud, powerful rendition of the same melody I mentioned earlier. The first time you see it, you think nothing of it.
Until about ten minutes later, when you learn the big surprise: the beggar woman was actually Todd’s wife, not dead, who he has now murdered himself.
Subsequent viewings of the piece never fail to bring me enormous chills when that blast of orchestral music reminds audience members in the know that his Lucy didn’t lie in ashes before, but she most certainly does now.
Heh.
- FCF
Couple other great music moments I was thinking about the other day:
In the movie Philadelphia, where Tom Hanks’ character is listening to the opera (argh, can’t think of the name of it, but Maria Callas is singing), and he talks about the music and the feeling of it, the whole time the camera swirls around him and the lighting changes. It’s a beautiful scene, beautiful music and totally moving…brings me to tears every time.
Also in The Shawshank Redemption, where Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins) puts on the record from “Marriage of Figaro”, I believe, and broadcasts it to the entire prison. The image of all the men listening, and the look on Andy’s face as he listened and then defied the warden by turning it up instead of turning it off.
Beautiful moments, both movie and music-wise.
HelloKitty, those are easily my two favorite moments from movies that revolve around music. The lighting in that scene from Philadelphia is what really sets it apart.
As for my favorite moments, in the latter part of Radiohead’s Fake Plastic Trees, there’s this crecendo of noise right before Thom Yorke sings “And I can’t help the feelin’…” that’s some beautiful synthesis of guitars and violins, that’s quickly followed by this crashing guitar chord that sends you flying right back down the same mountain the crecendo lifted you over. Oh, it’s so great.
And Coldplay’s entire album A Rush of Blood to the Head has so many individual moments that I can’t even begin to list them. But in the title track, everytime the guitars suddenly flare up again, it gives me goosebumps.
I love music. 
I must confess, I recorded this off the radio. I think the latter of your possibilities, but my recording only has the tone, and then the radio announcer faded in. Is that at the end of the song? That was basically the end of the song when they played it on the radio.
(Which reminds me that when they play Welcome to the Machine on the radio, they always leave out the barely-audible “knock” at the end, which distorts the meaning of the song somewhat. It leads one to doubt whether the person entering the room with the party-goers fully realizes that they are a bunch of tools. In the full version it sounds like he slams the door on them.)
My favorite musical moment is…
the following moment of deep pathos, passion, and artistic vision…
wait for it…
MORTAL KOMBAT!!!
Just kidding. Seriously, my favorite overall piece is probably Beethoven’s 9th, but if I had to pick a single moment, it would probably be the French Horn solo from The Firebird Suite. Gorgeous, simple, haunting. That’s why the French Horn was invented, right there.
These aren’t my absolute favorites, but they’re the first to spring to mind.
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The end of Lou Reed’s Perfect Day where he just repeats “You’re going to reap … just what you sow” in a tired sing-song voice as if he had a heroin hangover, and you suddenly know what the song’s all about. Just gives me the chills.
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The opening chords of David Bowie’s cover of Velvet Underground’s Waiting for the Man, but it’s got to be the live version from the Almost Famous soundtrack, or it doesn’t do it for me.
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Astrid Gilberto’s vocals on Girl from Ipanema.
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Virtually any Led Zep guitar solos.
Benny Goodman - Carnegie Hall - January 1938 Sing, Sing, Sing (with a swing)
The entire song is arguably the true push that started the Swing Era but there is a moment of pure magic about halfway into the 12 minute song.
The main players (Harry James, Jess Stacey, etc) have been trading solos, then it’s Benny’s turn. At the end of his section, he has a long maintain on the highest note believed possible to play on a clarinet… absolutely perfect tone. Then for the finish, he flips it up a fifth. A note that was not possible is executed perfectly - and gives me chills everytime I hear it.
His clarinet professor pointed it out to Goodman at the performance, but Benny didn’t believe him. The concert recordings were not found for another 12 years. When Benny finally heard the recordings in 1950, he was amazed that he had actually done it.