There’s something futile about learning a piece for piano. Unless you’re an extremely gifted type, you have to start off playing the two hands separately, and once you have a feel for the rhythm and the fingering you make attempts at doing it with both hands. This can be painful to all involved, though so far Chloe hasn’t complained once. The true love of my life. Then starts a whole new phase. You’ve got it so it sounds recognisable as a song, but because of variables like tiredness, level of coffee and booze intake, concentration, enthusiasm, or just because your fingers don’t know the piece very well – the results are unpredictable. And, if you don’t play the song for a couple of weeks, it quickly slips backwards so you’re clunking through it like a beginner again. After a 25 year break, I started to play again in December 2005, and found myself with an ever increasing repertoire (mostly of baroque songs that no-one would recognise). I was afraid to completely stop playing earlier and easier tunes because I knew I would lose them to the point that I couldn’t play them for someone else without days of catch-up practise. So practices meant playing 15 songs once, and I left only a little bit near the end for the pieces I was learning. Yesterday I made a decision – when I got something to 95% of good, I would record it and stop playing it. THE RECORDING WOULD BE THE PINNACLE OF MY MASTERY OF THAT SONG. Except, it didn’t work out that way. If I made a single mistake, I would start again. One night I played a song 100 times to get the perfect version, whilst sipping beers. Towards the end I hated the song, and my mistakes came more frequently. So I decided to lighten up, and to celebrate the beginning of regular musical closure, I hereby post a Pachelbel Fugue with only a few bum notes. It’s dedicated to Kim who knows it well by now I suspect. 
He’s famous for his Canon In D, but he did a lot of other good stuff too!