I have often wondered why I find some pieces of music so powerful.

On a lesser scale, there are songs that make me get up and want to dance.

If I’m on my own it’s Justin Timberlake’s Can’t Stop the Feeling – happiest video ever, surely?

With friends?  No doubt – Whitney Houston’s “I want to dance with somebody” – my girlfriends all know what I mean – we do it often in my kitchen.

And then perhaps a few softer, more poignant pieces appropriate for quieter, more reflective times – Jason Mraz’s 93 million miles (parents the world over will possibly melt quite easily to this song) or the unmatchable Mr Paul Simon’s “Still Crazy after all these years” (better than genius).

But I have often wondered why Elgar’s Nimrod does it for me too.  And now I know.  I Googled it.

Classic FM tell me that “It’s all in the fluctuating dynamics, the unresolved tension and the cracking timpani rolls.”  A beginning “laden with anticipation”, the creation of tension and then its resolution in subsequent chords, and the swoopiness of Elgar’s undulating themes.

Ah, yes, that makes sense.  Understanding Nimrod.  Understanding me.