Memories can be inspiring or stifling, alluring or ugly, wistful, joyous or flat. But what if they all come rushing back in a moment of quiet? You’re in headphones, zoned out, and your entire life flashes before your eyes, floods your ears, sounds like a screaming orchestra, feels like a bounding sack of lead, and looks like an unholy filmic mashup of David Cronenberg and Ken Burns. This is “chronovision,” a high-concentration dose of pure memory. And on the album of the same newly minted name, Brad Oberhofer distills his own total recall into beautiful, bittersweet song.