For my grandma Maryanne (1923–2001), whose lovingly gruff, crumpled-paper-bag voice still carries me.

For my dad, Jeff (1948–2011), who first taught me how to listen, and whose brown Koss KO/747 headphones rest right next to my stereo.

For my son, Martin, who arrived amidst the writing of this book. You teach me to listen anew while letting me think I am teaching you. Your voice will always be my favorite sound. I love you more! Infinity!