Supine in the dentist's chair recently and trying to distract myself from the squeal of his drill, I fell to pondering the scream – one of music's least discussed vocal signatures. When I think of my favourite moments in pop and rock, it's surprising quite how many of them can be distilled to a singer throwing his or her head back and letting rip a lung-bursting scream. I'm not talking about wailing, or yelling – any buffoon can do that. Screaming is a skill, a test of the vocal range that can be purely enlivening, even ennobling. It can take a sung note – of pain, of rage, of entreaty, of untrammelled joy – to a higher plane, an abrupt, piercing shock that transforms the moment dramatically. It's a delicate and volatile substance. Like chilli in a sauce, a little of it goes a long way.
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