I've had a three disc Prokofiev piano sonatas collection riding in my car with me for a few months now, and it is a beautiful, beautiful thing. See, driving for me is unavoidably stressful. I'm a guy who is pretty turned off to the world around me, but something about driving in a car flips every "fight or flight" switch in me and it is awful. Now, normally, I don't even understand what people are talking about when they discuss things like "being in the mood" for a specific song or "I can only listen to that when I'm in a certain mood." The fuck? It's just music, you emotionally obsessive twat. Anyway, this Prokofiev stuff is really engaging and beautiful and it turns a truly hellish experience for me into something that I really don't even mind at all. So, when I am driving, I am "in the mood" for Prokofiev.
This sonata starts with some fucking heavy piano riffing, the idea behind which I plan on ripping off for a Like Rats song sometime soon. You heard it here first. This piece is also unbelievably melodically rich with dissonant, rapidfire statements that somehow still make intuitive sense and are completely engaging. Transcend your boring, stressful reality with Prokofiev's melodic mindfuck piano experience number six.