I bought this in a hurry and didn't notice that it was self-published. With the exception of the book that was too good to publish - and the one I mean is fiction - I am not convinced by material that isn't published by the usual sources. We do need some kind of filter.

I did make an attempt to look at this with an open mind, but there are many non sequiturs and errors throughout that make it rather unusable. On top of that there are some far-fetched claims, such as that the 9th Symphony is effectively the greatest work of any kind produced in western culture. This is more or less presented as unquestioned fact. Even if the claim were true, it is indicative of a kind of credulity that undermines the author's efforts.

It's a shame because the writers intentions were good. I was interested in Beethoven's influence from more arcane matters and I also got Beethoven and the Spiritual Path. It's a terrible book. It WAS published, but it's far worse than this. (This could have been not bad with some rather thorough and strict editing.) But Beethoven and the Spiritual Path is written by an author who praises humility but makes sure that we are aware of his higher knowledge and other mystical experiences. Worse, it contains many many errors about the music.

I wasted money on these texts, purchased during a moment of elation, and now I can never get it back. If you are going to buy self-published work, at least get the e-version and don't spend more than a couple of shillings.

PS - I notice a few boxes below saying "Label this review so customers know you purchased this item at Amazon.co.uk". Cheeky, cheeky Amazon! You really need the extra advertising? Come, come! To be honest, I think you make enough money already. To be even more honest, I still like having the occasional bookseller down a village street. Let's leave 'em a few cake crumbs, right?

I wouldn't say this is the greatest version of Op. 123 that will ever be produced. I'm not necessarily a fanatic for the sound of period instruments. But I've been trying hard to find a useful interpretation of this piece and have been very frustrated by some of the dreadful versions one can encounter. Most conductors come a cropper when we reach the Agnus Dei, which is typical of Beethoven's late works in that it is a complex mix of the inspired and the exhausted. I, for one, am sure that some of the strange shapes in Beethoven's late forms are partly to do with his declining health and depressed state. Thankfully he never declined too far...although what he could have ended producing if he'd lived longer might have embarrassed us. Regarding the Agnus Dei in this work, the final few minutes are very strange and it would be very difficult to make the effect work. I've heard some awful accounts. There was a recent recording that included soloists who ignored the beat and included a prima donna tenor. It had sludgy tempi and a lack of vision. Even Barenboim produces a slow split time presto and halves the tempo in the final bars in a futile attempt to create the correct shape.

This brings me to this recording. I bought this as a wee lad and gave up on it because of the period instruments. But, in desperation, I've come back to it and have been delighted by Elliot Gardiner's interpretation. He handles the speeds nicely most of the time and the entire recording has a redolence of intelligent spirituality that is missing in most other recordings. The singers are disciplined and the chorus are never too bad in their collective intonation (this is a problem in the other recordings I have tried.) The recording is very clear and transparent. Yes, this is the recording to get.

However, I must mention that I can imagine an even better version. What I find missing here is AUTHENTICITY....! You might find this a strange comment, given the conductor we are discussing. The only area of authenticity that I really find missing is a sense of interpretive autonomy. You see, the conductor must be prepared to take risks and to assume ownership of the piece. He must question Beethoven in his most recalcitrant moments. I think once again of the Agnus Dei. The presto must be really, really fast! And then, in the final pages the tempo needs to be much more flexible. There should be much more exaggerated rallentantos and so on. This is exactly what Beethoven would have expected. In the closing pages, when we reach a false ending and the timpani enter in the wrong key....here time must stand still and the conductor needs to be very brave and cocky. Over the page and the approach to the cadence into D major needs a very pronounced rall. There should be a long pause on the final 'pacem', followed by a silence. THe following bars should be getting slower again and then we kick into tempo for the final four bars. Seriously, this is SO obvious....and not one conductor has done this properly. And I'm not no dumb critic either. Give me 130 good performers and I'll conduct this for you, no problem. I'll even do it for free.

To conclude: buy it. BUY IT!

Paul Thomas Anderson is clearly a director of genius and I hope he makes many more films. However, he clearly has limited understanding of music. This film is crippled by the music. When it isn't irritating it's incompetent. When it isn't completely extraneous to the film it is a cheap knock-off - for instance of Ligeti. This happens in the first few moments when we hear a cluster chord that slowly shifts into a unison. This is a typical cliché from middle period Ligeti and receives fantastic use by Kubrick. However, in a contemporary film it just sounds as if 'they' threw this in without much thought. It's not even a good imitation of Ligeti. Oh director, think about what Kubrick would have done: the use of proper works already written were the only way he could have music that matched the quality of his film making. Please do learn this lesson. For instance, in your opening sequence you could have used early orchestral works by Webern and Schoenberg (assuming the 'expressionist' style is what you really want.) With music by proper composers the effect would have been extraordinary. You do actually make use of some pre-existing music. The Brahms appears to work well, and shows what can be achieved. But is it the correct choice here? And to use it again at the end - this was a mistake. You too closely ape Kubrick. We have the symmetrical room, wide angle lense, the perspective...and the sudden 'ironic' music. I think it was nice to wear your influences on your sleeve in Boogie Nights, but it is time to find your own voice. Please understand I think you are one of the great directors and I write this out of warmth and a deep regard for your work. You then employ some Arvo Pärt. Sorry, it doesn't work here either. At least choose something from the period - not the 1980s! You used songs brilliantly in Boogie Nights - what has happened here? How much would it cost you (out of a cinematic budget) to employ one or two world class musicians to act as consultants on these matters? The music is one of the most important parameters in a filmic text and in this film the music kinda screws it up.

I don't wish to be insulting about the composer of the original score in this film. I could express myself openly, but let's just say that I think a much better job could have been done. I have watched this film twice, but the original score is the reason why I'll never be able to watch it again.

I heard this in 1994 on the wireless and thought it sounded rather good. 17 years later I listen again and feel a bit embarrassed. Yes, there are some very handsome passages (which is why I've been generous with my rating), and these passages do offer ideas about what might be achieved in choral writing, but much of the piece is sounding very dated. This kind of postmodernism arrogantly rejected works such as Le Marteau sans Maitre. And yet, in such a small period of time this kind of harmonic and stylistic hotchpotch is growing very tired while the 'ugly' modernism continues to grow more beautiful and sexy and groovy. Go figure.

I would ideally like to review this coffee as a bag of beans, rather than the pre-ground variety. I give the beans four stars, but must alas remove one star from any coffee that has already been ground. I know you may be rather busy, and there is evidence, moreover, that laziness in controlled amounts is actually beneficial for your health; however, I must stress that a coffee enthusiast must grind their own beans. For this review I have ground Taylors Rich Italian. Although I am reviewing this variety, the coffee that I am currently drinking is clearly superior to the result of using the ground version.

With all that out of the way, let's discuss the actual coffee. For this review I chose to use a cafetiere and I used a heaped dessertspoon with which to measure the dose. After adding boiled (freshly drawn water) I stirred the suspension at least a handful of times. Please note that I have not yet moved into a house equipped with a range cooker and therefore the coffee was boiled with an electric kettle. After brewing I filled a rather pedestrian mug and added some semi-skimmed milk and one spoon of sugar. If you are an expert on coffee, like my wee friend in Jakarta, you will raise the tip of your nose at this moment because you think coffee must be reviewed drunk black and with no sugar. I don't care...and if that is offensive to you then I am sorry.

I would opine that the addition of milk and sugar actually makes the coffee complex in an entirely different way, creating a new, but equally valid tasting experience. And now to the actual taste. Well, upon taking one's mouthful there is a kind of delayed response followed by a sensation of smoothness. As the coffee covers the tongue you will quickly notice the usual coffee acidity. The bitterness here is quite pronounced, but in a pleasurable way (that's what the sugar is for). Before the bitterness bites there are a range of sensations. I am seeing deep mahogany, a kind of multicoloured fruitiness, a sensation of honey (or, in German, Hönig - but maybe this is again the sugar talking). And after swallowing, with all the taste buds stimulated, and the interaction of between tasting and our newly-formed memory of tasting, one must note a delightful balance of manly toughness and European suavity.

On a critical level I would note that you can certainly detect that this is rather a cheap coffee. But if you are searching for something that can be used on an everyday basis, and preventing you from growing desensitised to the more extraordinary varieties, then this would be a wise choice. You can serve this to family and friends without any agonising. However, if you are courting someone you believe may be an ideal life-time companion, or you have invited a management figure in an attempt to further your popularity within your employment hierarchy, then I think you may wish to consider searching further. In such an instance do remember that you get what you pay for. However, you may get a surprise if you fork out for Jamaica Blue Mountain. It may be expensive, but it's a weak coffee! I had to make it double strength and then felt sick afterwards! For at least an hour!

A listener might wonder why Jens Kidman, the singer of Meshuggah, is so angry. But when you take the time to study the actual meaning of this wonderful album you quickly realise that the amount of anger you can hear in his voice is fully justified. This album portrays humanity as something soulsick to the point of death. Instead of attaining samadhi, the mystical oneness that is the goal of all religion - a state that is often referred to in the Westernised use of the term 'zen' - we have embraced the obscene as our goal. Obscene/Zen = ObZen. It is sometimes easy to forget just how obscene are our times, but look with objective eyes at contemporary reality: 'preemptive' war(s), state assassination and torture, mass extinction, economic collapse, the vast majority of our species living in poverty, control of the world's wealth by 1% of the population etc. The majority of humankind, were it to awaken to these truths, could conceivably unite and reject all of this in a single decision. Humankind could decide, en masse, to make fundamental changes that would stem the tide of 'our ruin, our doom'. But what do we do instead? We embrace the banal. We cherish our ignorance. We celebrate stupidity. We sponsor the system that is destroying us. We even vote for politicians who speak in simplistic sentences and who we know will wage further unjustified wars that will bankrupt our state. To quote the final song from this album, we dance along to a 'discordant system:' 'We dance to appease/compete in stupidity.' That is, our compliance with the system is an act of appeasement. When we allow airport staff to force us to drink baby milk to prove that it is not an explosive we are 'competing in stupidity.'

ObZen is an extremely valuable piece of art that portrays the relationship between individuals (often called 'souls' in this album) and the reality that we live in. It is breathtakingly, painfully honest about the corruption of our contentment. In the first song, Combustion, the lyrics invite us to 'stare, see, take in, grasp/comprehend, assimilate/behold your reflection.' The androgynous character on the front of the album thinks itself content, but is actually doused in blood.

So horrible is the true nature of our fake contentment, inebriated with debt, that any musical portrayal of this reality must reflect the ugliness. Everything in this album works perfectly to enhance the acuity of this portrayal.

And yet Meshuggah have achieved their goal so well that they actually transcend their message. The opening riff has an exquisite sound and the polyrhythmic entry of the drums is so satisfying that one cannot fail to experience deep satisfaction upon hearing this. The entire album is one of beautifully rendered rage, a rage that continues with limitless variety throughout the tracks. It is perfect. After understanding what the album is about I have continued to listen, again and again, because on a purely musical level I find this so exciting and beautiful.

It is necessary for all GCSE-age children to study this album and its meaning. My hope is that their brainwashed preconceptions, making them 'so meticulously machined/into these obedient devices', might more easily be shattered after they listen. And then, haply, they might ask 'Why?' And 'what next?'

A long haul flight might be made an enjoyable, memorable experience if you choose the correct Bryson book before boarding. This is one is big, his largest I think, and contains a huge bibliography. It contains many entertaining pages but my ultimate conclusion is that this is by far his worst book. No one has edited it and it is afflicted with hurried writing. Sometimes you get the same sentence repeated after an unacceptably short duration. Some of the writing was vague, even clumsy, and he dazzles us only rarely with his wit. In fact, much of this reads like a collection of annotations from his reading, hurriedly put together as if for a deadline. And sometimes you get the same sentence repeated after an unacceptably short duration. I also find that the basic premise of the book is a little thin. He describes walking around his house, and sometimes makes reference to the room 'we' are currently in. But his actual engagement with his own house is scant and uninvolving. He keeps referring to 'our' Mr. Marsham, a former resident of his house, but I had absolutely no interest in reading about him, primarily because he was effectively irrelevant. What this book wanted to be was a shorter, maybe 350 page, history of private life. We'd enjoy a witty book on such a topic, but a history. This one attempts to use the tried-and-tested travelogue technique of describing an endless array of eccentric characters, and I think Bryson has now taken that as far as it ought to go. It worked nicely in the book about science, but now I am getting tired. You need only read some other reviews that mention the poor quality of the scholarship here and you see that this book is of limited value. I am sad about this because I'll never fly to Malaysia without buying one of his other texts. Aye.

The intensity of this soundworld is breathtaking. The 'singing' sounds like a nightmare. In Holywood you might expect a city-slaying demon to utter sounds like this. But that's got a lot to do with conditioning. Let's appreciate this on its own terms. This conjures an emotional state that is a kind of hormonal exhilaration. One recalls leaping off a stage and surfing the crowd. But there is so much structure and intelligence underpinning this music that it it can be appreciated as a thing of unworldly beauty. It doesn't exactly feel heavenly, or inspire one to admire the heavenly glory...but it does come close. Yes, I feel rather positive as a I listen.

When a man reaches the earliest stages of maturity, the age when they begin to think about range cookers, handmade shoes, the colours of the twin-stitching on their heated leather steering wheel; when a man has the reached that phase in life when he is thinking about underfloor heating, Krugerands, the varying properties of oak and walnut flooring; when a man reaches that age when he discusses with his correspondents whether he should procure an armchair in leather or in satin upholstery - such is the time when this album becomes truly important. I'm not talking about midlife crisis - that's two decades away, perhaps, and, inshallah, will never come - if we practice our praxis that is. No, I am talking about a phase in life where one still has vitality, can still fight eighteen year olds and win, and where the mountain stream of adolescence has been replaced by the deep river of manliness. This is the age when you might think about investing in a straight razor. And that brings me to Catch 33, this straight razor of an album. The rhythmic complexity of Meshuggah is famous, of course, but one might still think this music a bit mindless at first listen. Oh yeah? Well, what about the strangely beautiful lyrics? For instance, from another album, one recalls the line "A sneering grin, the voice of my reaper - chanting sofly the song of depletion..." This is better than the sribblings of those writers who win the 'Man' Booker Award. (For feminist reasons they also let 'Women' apply for this prize.)

You will get a good sense of this music from other reviews. What I'd like to describe for you now is a set of ideal conditions under which to listen to this. First of all, buy a supercharged 5.0 V8 Jaguar XKR. Make sure you have pale upholstery and wood trim. Next, purchase this CD. Place the CD in the car. Arrange for a friend whom you do not meet often enough to fly in for a short visit. This visit should take place at the end of May when the sky is clear and there a balmy perfume in the air. The nightingale will be singing at night and the fragrance from your herb garden will float in the humidity. Pick up your friend, whom we shall name Samuel Johnson, from the airport and help him carry his small bag to the car. (You will have told him in advance to bring a small bag because only that will fit in the car.) When you are in the car, put the roof down immediately but at first drive quite slowly. It is important that Samuel Johnson gets the impression that the car is timid, with a quiet, mannerly engine. When you reach the quiet roads you should pull to the side. Ask Samuel Johnson politely to ask a passerby if they could read their watch for you. The next part is vital. Timing is essential. As Samuel Johnson asks his question you must put the car in sport mode. When the person raises their arm to read their watch, you, the driver, must immediately execute, with perfect synchronisation, two ations. First you must turn on this album at a very high volume. Secondly you must rev the engine to the red, bringing out the deep growl of the Jag. You then drive off, accelerating in the most full throated manner. No doubt you and Samuel Johnson will experience a sensation of exhilaration that might even lead to insensate acts, such as the depositing into the air of paper cups and the smoking of Cohiba Sigla VI cigars.

I must give this only four stars because apparently the drums are programmed. That's a real shame since the drummer plays this sort of stuff all the time. You can't tell, but knowing this lowers my enjoyment and sends me in search of other albums by the band.

It is fairly impossible to add to all the praise that this record deservedly receives. But, as I listen to it, I cannot help but begin to write about it. On both a technical and spiritual level this work represents a pinnacle. 'I got a home on high, in another land, so far away.' As he sings this the string tremolo ride up into the heights. His voice goes into a falsetto, bringing the song to an oceanic climax, before the texture settles. What is interesting here is that the stereo image is used perfectly to unravel all the instrumental parts. The use of space both clarifies and enriches the texture. It helps to create a sensation of multilayered music where the layers almost want to take on a life of their own. In the world of modern studio production this would be a very impressive achievement. In fact, the technology of the 60s is an essential element of the final soundworld of the album. And when I listen to the second track I notice how Van uses a particular kind of appogiatura where he doesn't only sing a dissonance that resolves, but in fact sings a little sequence of falling notes that move to the expected resolution. And he uses this technique throughout the entire album, lending an unusual level of melodic cohesion throughout the work. And listening to this track one is reminded of the first time one heard it. And all the experiences in life that the album accompanied. I also think that the layout of the album is a marvel. "Beside You" is almost like a perfect prelude to "Sweet Thing", the third track. The ecstatic looping of riffs and lines in Sweet Thing can be enjoyed more deeply as a counterbalance to the intensity of Beside You. One can barely wait for Sweet Thing to start. This is an album that you must listen to many times. Then you will start to appreciate the tiny details - the tinkles in the opening minute of Sweet Thing that are played across the stereo image. "And I will drink the clear clean water for to quench my thirst." I love the use of the Belfast grammar here, and the symbological reference to immersing oneself in the Revelation of God. And note that the the entire melodic line is built from the falling appogiatura feature I mentioned earlier. "We shall walk and talk in gardens misty, wet with rain" again seems to refer to the revelation. This is a higher kind of love, the love of two people who are both breathing the Divine. Sweet Thing is certainly one of my favourite tracks, but the music keeps getting better. We move on to Cyprus Avenue and one is breathless with the sheer genius. The harpsichord! Oh Lord, My God! "That Mansion on the Hill." What does he mean here? Cyprus Avenue isn't much of a hill. No, he couldn't help himself transcending the 'story' of the songs and reaching beyond. This was an interesting period for Morrison...the spirituality is burgeoning, almost concealed, but this makes it all the richer. And this song contains one of the most amazing things - a kind of rhythmic error, where the harpsichord seems to be out of sync. Maybe this was an accident, but an accident from the Lord that has been solidified onto the vinyl itself, a mistake that after a few listenings we grow to love and believe that it was intended from the the outset. And when he sings of the 'rainbow ribbons in her hair' the degree of passion is overwhelming. I hear pillars in the sound. I can hear the rainbows. It's worth listening on headphones, actually. At the end of the track the string instruments are heard in a rainbow of sudden reverberation.

Side 2. The Way Young Lovers Do is not the most stunning item on the record, I'm sure most people will agree. But it provides essential relief. Further, it has something quite amazing that I don't think people really appreciate. The music is in triple time, but if you listen closely you will hear that the bass part plays, polyrhythmically, with four beats in each bar. How many times have you heard that in popular (ie non-classical) music? Following this short track we move on to one of Morrison's most famous creations, Madame George. I once read a comment on Youtube about this asking 'What kind of angel must visit you so you can sing like this at 23?' Actually, Van Morrison sings fairly explicitly about this in later albums. In 'contacting my angel' he sings (I quote verbatim) "I met a presence on the mountainside and he was the sweet bird of youth." Yes, the 'bird of youth' clearly paid him a glorious visit. There are many such references in the lyrics from the 80s. For instance, in "the master's eyes" he sings 'oh how the truth shone from the Master's eyes.' From my perspective this is quite a thing! How does one follow a song like Madame George? Well, the track that follows is perhaps less beloved, but in my opinion it is even better. Yes, the album gets better and better. Ballerina, the penultimate track, is a song of unparalleled expression. I love everything about this track. The endless riffs, the timbres. The melody soars and there are times when I hear this and my entire being responds...with a shiver, or a tear, or a laugh of amazement.

There is a well-known gentleman, living in the land of England. I believe he is a biologist or a geneticist. He writes about evolution and so forth and carries a lot of weight in intellectual circles. Recently he published a book about atheism. Nevermind that he didn't pay enough attention to, for instance, Hindu philosophy etc. He clearly never got to know this album. Because if he had listened to Ballerina enough times he would have discovered that the Concourse on High are circling, dancing, singing.