My foster father was a classically trained pianist who got into Big Band music with the Paul Whiteman Orchestra in the 20s and 30s. He later worked at various movie studios in Hollywood before WWII.
I don't know what to call it but he drove me and his friends nuts when listening to music as he would always grimace and groan when the performers missed a note or chord.
He would go to the Hollywood Bowl to listen to the philharmonic orchestra and he would point out the exact musician who made a goof.
He could also hear a tune and sit down at the piano or the electric organ he had and play it chord for chord at the first try.
I learned to read music and sang in church and school choirs but never, ever had his gift.
I don't know what to call it but he drove me and his friends nuts when listening to music as he would always grimace and groan when the performers missed a note or chord.
He would go to the Hollywood Bowl to listen to the philharmonic orchestra and he would point out the exact musician who made a goof.
He could also hear a tune and sit down at the piano or the electric organ he had and play it chord for chord at the first try.
I learned to read music and sang in church and school choirs but never, ever had his gift.