My understanding of imaginary music has come to be thus: there are two levels to it, viz., 1) the knowledge of the melodies and other basic "data"; and 2) the capacity to produce, within the mind, a realistic and satisfying orchestral sound.
The first point implies that you know enough about the music in question to be able to hum, or whistle, the melodies accurately; the second point implies that you have become familiar with a specific performance, viz., through repeated listening to a recording of it, that the sound of the music can be heard in the imagination, in momentary glimpses, as with myself, or, for some people, in protracted states of audiation, in which the recording plays itself back within the mind, in the same manner in which people with photographic memories can remember the exact details of a visual scene. Point 2 implies point 1, but not vice versa; point 1 can be constructed, as it were, from the memories of different performances, whereas point 2 implies a deep intimacy with a particular performance, viz., a recording.
As I have said, I have had brief glimpses of perfect imaginary musical performances, and they always have a profound effect on me, emotionally speaking, because the music that I am so familiar with as to be able to play it in my mind, from memory, is generally music that affects me on an emotional level, and thus appeals to me. These brief experiences have not been voluntary, but seem to me to be the result of some subconscious phenomenon in my brain; typically, I'll have the melodies going through my mind, and suddenly they'll morph into the exact and perfect sound of the recorded performance, as though someone had spliced the recording in at that particular point; and, oh, what a beautiful and electrifying experience it is to have the exact sound flowing effortlessly through the mind, as though a temporary breach in the divide between the conscious and subconscious minds had been formed, and beautiful and perfect music had been allowed to pour in from some recess of the subconsciousness, where it had hitherto lain dormant, and off-limits to the conscious part of the mind; thrilling sensations move through me, and it is as though I were stricken with an astounding revelation; yes, liken it to an orgasm, if you must
; but these experiences are never protracted, and always fade from my grasp after a few seconds, leaving me to lust for more, or better yet, for that secret which will grant me willful control over this wonderful phenomenon of the mind, so that I might experience these sensations at a conscious command, on a whim.
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