Let's Talk Music.

 Let’s talk music.

Specifically, the power that it holds. By power, I don’t mean it in a physical sense. Music can’t lift you or fix wounds. But mentally, music can do so much.

Now I am one of those people who literally cannot function without some form of music playing. 

I can be in the car for a short drive, ten maybe fifteen minutes. I still need music to occupy my ears. In a shop? I’ve got headphones on. It is very, very rare that I will be sitting by myself and won’t have some kind of music playing. 

I recently sat down to think about why this is. Why do I need this melodic distraction all the time? I honestly believe it comes from a place of fear. I absolutely despise the quiet. If I can hear my own thoughts in my head, something is wrong. I fill every awkward silence in conversations. Normally, it’ll be with something just as awkward. Like I recently asked a date what kind of fruit they’d be. Absolutely stupid of me, but the conversation had ended, and I was not going to sit there in silence. 

Like I said, I listen to music a lot. But for all the time I spend with it, on only a fraction of that is spent actually listening to it. Having it on in the background isn’t listening, you can be having a conversation with someone whilst music is playing, but are you actually engaging with the song that’s playing? No. No, you’re not. 

Actually listening to music. Properly, giving it your full attention is one of the best things you can do for your creativity and imagination. Oftentimes, the lyrics are written with so much thought that they manage to tell their own story. 

Look at an artist like Sleep Token. An English alternative band that performs in masks so that they stay anonymous. Each lyric is written by the lead singer, known as Vessel and every song is filled with beautiful messages and imagery. The song that comes to mind mainly is Gethsemane from their new album, Even in Arcadia. In the song, Vessel talks about a relationship that had left him feeling completely heartbroken, yet he knows that his decision to leave was for the best. Through the way that he pieces together music, the audience gets drawn into this story with him. They feel every emotion that he does. And you leave the song feeling equally as broken as he does. 

It is music’s ability to make you feel emotions so strongly that ultimately makes it so special. My grandmother recently passed away. She was an absolute force to be reckoned with and an incredible woman to be around. I am so grateful that I got to know her, not to mention being her granddaughter. She made waves in her community, and one group which she especially impacted was her village choir. A small group of French people gathering to sing songs from around the world. Something so simple, yet it was something that meant the world to her. Not only did she add so much to the choir vocally, but they also all loved her as a friend. 

So much so that at her funeral, over twenty of the choir members turned up and performed two hauntingly beautiful songs for her. Considering it was my nan’s funeral, we were all expecting the deep sadness, but no one was expecting this. It was already a horrible day, but when the choir started to sing, everything got a little bit harder. All sense of restraint, I had left my body. And the pure beauty of it left me in pieces. I sobbed into my dad’s arm until they finished singing. So moved by their voices that there was no other possible reaction to them. Even through tears, the choir sang in a way that only felt right. 

Without them, the service would not have been complete. And as happy as I am that they sang for her, I will also be very happy if I never feel that level of emotion from a group of people ever again. 

It was not just that moment when music had impacted me strongly. Music ties to my emotions, if I’m happy, I’ll listen to songs that I associate with that, for example, fascination by alpha beat. A happy song for happy Ellen. If I feel sad, I listen to voices by stray kids. If I need to feel hopeful, then I will listen to Sleep Token, especially Euclid. Each emotion is subconsciously linked to a different genre of music. I guess it is my own little escape for when everything is a bit too much.

Music also acts as a love language for me. If I love someone, then I magpie them with music. I will consistently recommend songs to them that I’ve heard and that I think they’ll like. I will then be obscenely annoying, asking them every time I see them if they have listened to it yet, being so persistent that eventually they will give up and see that I am a genius when it comes to music. A real aficionado of the notes. I’m joking, of course. I’m not big-headed enough to believe that, but I’m yet to recommend a song to someone that they don’t like. 

I also associated songs with people. All my loved ones have songs that I link to them. If I am separate from someone I care about, then I listen to their song to feel connected to them again. I don’t really know if it does anything for how much I miss them, but it helps with the distance, even if it’s just for a couple of minutes. 

Ultimately, to me and many others, music is more than just something to listen to while on a drive. It is deeply personal and means so much. The impact that it has in three, maybe four minutes, is incredible. In my opinion, it can change so much for one single person. It can change moods, can make you smile, can make you cry. And that is why music is so powerful.