I'm listening to "The Summerlands" and I remember the powerful sound of the music as it came out of my synthesizer speakers.

The shaky version, afflicted with the hiss and muffled frequencies typical of a cassette recording, sounds pitiful in comparison.

But in the end, it's good that it is. This fragile, diminished sound is the image of my memories of that already distant time. It is the sound image of the time that has passed, that veils and degrades everything, and that separates me from the living source.