Dialogue is my #1 most played song in iTunes. And it’s not even close.
When I was in the seventh grade, I joined my middle school’s jazz band. We played a song called 25 or 6 to 4, one of Chicago’s most recognizable songs (and, also, one of the most stolen rock riffs of all time).
Anyway, I really liked that song. And it just so happened that we had an old “Greatest Hits” Chicago CD in our basement. It was one of the first CD’s I listened to regularly – this was back before I had an iPod. The first song on that CD was called Dialogue.
It’s a monster of a song – seven and a half minutes with different melodies, heavy brass parts, and long guitar solos. I think the song goes into like five different time signatures. It is one of the best examples of organized chaos that a song can offer. It quickly became my favorite song on the CD.
I don’t know why, but that song stuck with me for some reason. It’s not exactly catchy, and the lyrics are kind of strange. I don’t have a concrete reason for why I like it. It’s just this crazy, long, ridiculous song that I love listening to – every single time.
Sometimes, it’s hard to explain why you like something so much. I think it’s a lot easier to explain why you don’t like something. Liking a song, or a sport, or a person, or anything really, is such a visceral, emotional response. It lies outside the realm of reason. It doesn’t need to be justified.
Sometimes the best answer for why you like something is that, well, you just do.