"I only composed one master work, that is the Bolero; unfortunately, there is no music in it", Maurice Ravel once remarked with regard to what is said to have been his master work.
In so far, it had been not consequential if, after the first performance a lady whose name remained unknown cried: "Oh God, a mad man!", the composer had not said she was the only one to understand him, hm?
If I told what the Bolero achieves to conjure up whenever I happen to hear its first tone there'd certainly more than one (wo)man understand :) me.
That's why I won't tell.
Instead, I restrict myself to write: Happy birthday, 'mad man'!
And here's ... the Bolero. Enjoy!
... can't get enough? Longing for the finale furioso? :)
Here's Part II: