My wife and I once attended a concert by Mel Torme. We were thrilled. I especially so when he played Gene Krupa’s “Sing, Sing, Sing” drum solo. We had, we believed, a wonderful time, coming out of Carnegie Hall so smiling and happy. And then I was nearly killed. My wife just managed to pull me back as I was walking right into a fast moving car. Why?, I wondered. I’m not usually that careless, that unthinking. Could it have been to do with the concert?
Next day I questioned a number of friends who had also been there. Each of them had a similar experience. One man, normally very clear thinking, was so confused it took him a long time to find his parked car. One couple decided after the concert to stay at a city hotel, rather than drive an hour and half home—as they always did after a classical concert at Carnegie Hall—because they felt so “exhausted.” Another couple got into a violent argument—with fists—within fifteen minutes of the last note. And two strict vegetarians ate hamburgers! All the time wondering why. It was so against their principles, yet they felt compelled to.
Surely, I wondered, this could not be due to Mel Torme. None of his records I have examined (all analog) had any serious negative effect. It must be the sound amplification system! So I went to Carnegie Hall and asked about their sound equipment. They were very proud to show me the banks of digital delay apparatus. And to point out the loudspeakers in the columns and pillars throughout the hall to convey this digital magic into the unsuspecting audience.
