The Tale in the Tune by Alison Powell

IT IS a well-trodden truism that tunes can tell a tale. Music forms the background and sometimes, the foreground to our lives.

Whether it is the song that was number one the day you were born; the first dance at your wedding; the theme to your favourite film or the playlist at your funeral; music is an integral part and punctuates, highlights and illustrates so many key moments in our lives.

It is evocative of time, place and person. If I hear Dean Martin sing I am instantly driving around the countryside where my dad was born, having various places of historical interest and the tiny house where he was born, pointed out to me.

I may roll my eyes, I may have heard it all countless times, but in years to come, when perhaps he will have passed, I will hear Dean Martin sing and I will remember.

If I hear Ricky Martin sing She Bangs, instantly I am with one particular friend, in one particular place and to my dying days, one particular memory of one of the funniest afternoons is replayed in vivid, sparkly, neon, day-glo detail. If it were appropriate to emojify this column I would now litter the page with a stream of smiley faces.

I went to Tramshed in Cardiff recently to see Jack Savoretti. It is my second time watching this very talented man and my first in Tramshed.

I really like his music but what I really loved about both times I have seen him, is the reaction from my very good friend. She adores him and to see her beaming smile and to agree wholeheartedly and enthusiastically with her as we left the venue, that, “Yes, there was a moment when he looked directly at us, like literally, exactly at us... and he smiled. At us. Definitely.”

It was a special moment to share with her something that brought her so much joy, that transported her from the stresses of work and family and DIY and just be carried away by the music, engrossed in the lyrics and swept away by the tune.

However, I was reminded recently through the experience of a friend, that we are not all so fortunate as to be able to hear music in the traditional way. Her experience triggered a further memory from a while ago, in Nottingham, when I met a friend of a friend of a friend, who was a brilliant dancer.

My friend was learning British Sign Language and several of her friends were deaf, but I had no idea initially that Mr Dancer was too. He explained that although deaf from birth, he loved music and felt the vibrations through the floor.

It made me realise how remarkable human beings are. We are not only awesome enough to create and produce but adaptable and determined enough to find all sorts of ways through the challenges that are hurled at us.

That for me is truly awe inspiring and deserving of respect.