Oleg's ten desert island CDs

If tomorrow I get sent to a desert island instead of a photographic expedition and, instead of exploring the possibility of transforming visual patterns into inner significance with the use of my cameras, I am only allowed to savour the well–established musical representation of things that have mattered in the form of ten, and ten only, CDs, I then would take the following with me (in no particular order):

Miles Davis, "Kind Of Blue". Listen to it once, immediate appreciation will probably not follow. You might even brush it aside at first. But it is likely to imperceptibly linger at the back of your mind until you are ready for it. And once you are, it will never leave you.

U2, "Joshua Tree". Some albums, subjectively good or bad, important or inconsequential, stay with you from times immemorial and gradually get into the territory where figuring out truthfulness of memory and cause and effect relationships becomes impossible.

Eric Dolphy, "Out To Lunch". Might be a bit difficult to comprehend but, once you crack the door open, there is no turning back. This album is also fundamentally crucial if I do not get to take any Béla Bartók music with me (see below).

Keith Jarrett Trio, "Bye Bye Blackbird". If I can take only one Keith Jarrett CD, and I have to take one with me, then this would be it (even though I will miss "La Scala" a lot). Otherwise, who is going to hum along with me?

Pink Floyd, "The Dark Side of the Moon". You do not have to ask, really. Just soak yourself in it.

Miles Davis, "Bitches Brew". Give it some time and the world will never be the same again.

Jeff Buckley, "Grace". The name of the album says it all, and then some.

Led Zeppelin. Here I would have a really difficult time choosing between Led Zeppelin "I", "II", "III" and "IV"; if I am allowed to cheat, though, I would make my own compilation comprised of songs from these four albums (which would still make me miss a number of tunes from their later albums very badly).

Neil Young. I find it nearly impossible to single out one particular album that would make me not regret leaving out an equal number of songs that are just as significant. If you put a gun against my head and make me choose one CD only, I will probably dodge the first bullet and choose "Tonight′s the Night" before the second one hits my head. If you do not have a gun and extremist inclinations, then I would have no choice but to once again cheat, against my own will, and make my own compilation. That compilation, I cannot do without.

Piano Concerto No. 1. Whose, for crying out loud, you ask? If mercilessly interrogated, then that of Bartók, Bach and Brahms (again, in no particular order). Further tortured, I will probably be able to pick one, but that will highly depend on the ongoing circumstance and, consequently, be misrepresentative of general tendencies. With a gun against my head, dodging bullets will most likely be an excise in futility. And do not even ask about the pianist/conductor/orchestra combination.

This is today. The list was quite different yesterday and is likely to change tomorrow depending on new winds and inherent underwater currents. Admittedly, though, new winds will have to be strong enough and underwater currents will have to remain sufficiently persistent to alter the impact that the music listed above has had on me.