My Classical Bedroom or Sex with Bach

Here’s a peeve of mine.

Classical music is often torn apart, sliced, diced and packaged on CDs according to moods, time of day, etc. Mozart for Midnight, Beethoven for Breakfast. Lute for Camping. Night Moods. Brunch with Bach. Woodwinds for Debate Club Parties.

I am making these up but I imagine you have seen such compilations. I suppose it’s a good way to sample classical music and enter the flow, but … this weekend I heard Ravel’s Pavane for a Dead Princess on the radio and quickly requested it from the library – the only available CD with the track on it was something called Bedroom Adagios, 2 ½ hours of the most sensual music. I felt very young checking it, taking it from the librarian without looking at her, but I really really wanted to hear the track. It is gorgeous.


On the CD cover is a fluffy bed with the fluffy white sheet turned down, inviting lovers just like me and my wife Chelsea. I can almost see my wife and I, feeding strawberries into each others’ mouths. Laughing as the whipped cream gets on her nose. Stopping a long kiss long enough to see the red bird on our window ledge. And then both of us crying during sex. And waking up hours later, looking longingly at one another, and crying again.

I am not sure why CDs like this bug me. Does it cheapen the music (and experience) a little by concept-packaging it like some artificial ambience designed to fit these intimate aspects of life, by offering up a soundtrack, or someone’s idea of a soundtrack, for such personal matters? Besides, who can really hear music over all that moaning, and crying, and laughter. A the flit flit of tongues slurping whipped cream.