However it’s played, “Canon in D Major” appears to make listeners feel good. The brain on Canon transcends place, time, and problems. In truth, it is a simple tune, and without percussion, might be classified as a passacaglia because its fourth part is played by basso continuo. Pachelbel wrote his music at a time when such a form was becoming popular. He was born in 1653, lived a relatively short life (d. 1706) and bounced around among different cities and jobs as musician, teacher, and composer. Having been rediscovered in the 1970s, his now famous piece became popular more than 200 years after his death. Would he be surprised at the numerous versions of his work? Maybe not. Improvisation was also popular among musicians of his time. Seemingly, every year someone else reinterprets the Canon, and there seems to be no end to its variations.
Why do we change? Why are we always playing variations on a theme? The ancient Greeks had an answer: Desire is part of the world’s makeup. Recall that the first three “gods” in Greek mythology were Gaia, Tartoros, and Eros, all three having sprung from Chaos. Think of Eros as something more than physical desire. Think of Eros as just plain desire, and then think of the implications. Desire leads to change. Change itself can become the object of desire. You are driven by Eros when you move the furniture, buy a new car while the old one still works, or add a spice to your food.
Revising old songs serves as an analog: We keep something of the underlying structure, but we personalize the version. We do the same with philosophy. We do the same with psychology. We do the same with our worldviews. Eros, not the Muses, composes our music. We will never stop making variations on a theme. It’s the fundamental makeup of the world; it’s the fundamental makeup of humans.