Music is, at its core, just sound waves—vibrations traveling through air. Your ears collect those vibrations, translate them into electrical signals, and pass them to your brain. But your brain doesn’t just process sound; it interprets it.
On the day after Thanksgiving, never before, my Mom would start playing the Christmas music. I can see her white Russian in hand, dancing about, trimming the tree, and singing Christmas tunes. They got her in the mood, she always said. And she was right. The carols of Noel set the mood perfectly for Christmas in our house.
But music does more than just set the Yuletide aglow, doesn’t it?
In Twelfth Night, Count Orsino starts the play by saying:
"If music be the food of love, play on; give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken and so die."
Music, the food of love, what love feeds on to grow big and strong and eventually send us into madness. The madness part was my invention, but it’s kinda true. Is there anything more comforting than a good breakup song to listen to as the snot pours down your face and you curse every trinket, every card, every thought he or she ever gave you?
How about getting to the gym, popping in your earbuds, and cranking up your power workout mix? When you’re two minutes away from deciding that a deadlift sounds like cruel and unusual punishment, that perfect beat kicks in—and suddenly, you’re an unstoppable beast, sweat pouring but unstoppable nonetheless.
Or that long drive home when you’re feeling worn out, your eyes are bleary, and you just cannot drive one more mile. Suddenly, the radio plays that song, the one that reminds you of the time when you did that stuff with those guys back in college. You’re suddenly alive with memory, laughter, and a weird sort of muscle memory as you drum along on the steering wheel. Your bleary-eyed exhaustion is replaced by a grin, and you cruise overjoyed the rest of the way home.
In my younger days, when the show was over, when there was no work, and I had free time, I would pour myself a healthy glass of bourbon, put on the headphones, stand in my kitchen, and listen to Stop Making Sense, the soundtrack for the great concert film. But I didn’t just listen; I played the concert. I was David Byrne. I air-guitared, danced, sang, and released all the tension of the past months. Truly, this music set me free. For me, apart from speaking Shakespeare, very few things can move me, undo me, or uplift me, like music.
But why? Why does music do this to us? Why does a breakup song pierce the heart more effectively than hours of well-meaning conversation with your friends? Why does a perfectly curated gym playlist seem to transform us into superhumans? Why does music hold such a strange power over memory, energy, emotion, and our sense of being alive?
Let’s dive into it. Grab your headphones or put on your favorite Spotify mix, and let’s talk about why music moves us, why it matters, and how it might just help you work better—and live better—along the way.
The Science of Sound and Why It Hits You in the Feels
Music is, at its core, just sound waves—vibrations traveling through air. Your ears collect those vibrations, translate them into electrical signals, and pass them to your brain. But your brain doesn’t just process sound; it interprets it. It layers meaning onto those vibrations. It identifies patterns, syncs them with memory, and releases the chemical compounds that make us feel something.
Dopamine, for instance, the so-called “happy chemical,” spikes when you listen to music you love. The buildup to a great beat drop, the swell of a powerful symphony, or the scream-along chorus of a punk anthem all light up your brain like fireworks. It’s the same reward system activated by food, sex, or winning the lottery—only cheaper and far more socially acceptable on public transit.
Then there’s oxytocin, the chemical of bonding. Singing along with others (whether in a choir, a car ride, or a shower concert for one) can release oxytocin, building connection and trust. This is why music is so often tied to shared experience—the communal high of a live concert, the nostalgia of singing childhood songs with your family, or even the eerie unison of strangers humming the same tune.
Neurologists have even observed that the brain syncs its rhythms with music. Fast music speeds up your brain’s activity, sharpening focus or pushing you to move faster. Slow music calms you down, reducing stress, lowering your heart rate, and quieting those frantic thoughts that refuse to shut up while trying to sleep.
Music doesn’t just tickle the brain, though. It seeps into our very bodies. Athletes, for example, use music to time their breathing, enhance their endurance, and maintain the mental focus to push through pain. Studies show that workers on repetitive tasks are more efficient when listening to upbeat music, which adds rhythm and flow to their movements.
Put simply, music doesn’t just make us feel good. It makes us work better. Faster. Stronger. Happier. More connected. And—in the case of sad breakup songs—even heartbreak can feel oddly beautiful under the right soundtrack.
Music and Memory: Why That One Song Transports You Back
Have you ever wondered why hearing a song from your childhood can instantly take you back? One second, you’re in your adult office chair sipping lukewarm coffee, and the next, you’re 12 years old, biking around the neighborhood with your friends, with popsicle juice dripping down your hand. It’s weird, right?
There’s a reason for that. Music is deeply tied to the brain’s memory centers—specifically, the hippocampus and the amygdala. When we hear music, the brain doesn’t just process the melody. It stores the emotional context of that moment. What you were doing. Who you were with. How you felt. Music becomes a timestamp for our most meaningful experiences.
Think about it: graduation songs, wedding songs, funeral songs, road trip songs—they’re not just background noise. They’re snapshots of who we were and what mattered to us at a particular time in our lives.
This connection is so strong that music therapy is used to help people with Alzheimer’s and dementia reconnect with their memories. Even when language fails, music remains. A person who can’t remember their own family members can still hum along to a childhood lullaby.
Music as Motivation: The Power Workout Mix Phenomenon
You know that moment when you’re running, gasping for air, convinced you can’t possibly go on—and then your favorite hype song comes on? Suddenly, you’ve got another mile in you. Maybe two. Maybe you’re ready to run a marathon. The beat kicks in, and you’re a machine.
It’s not magic; it’s science. Fast, upbeat music stimulates your brain to release adrenaline, the hormone that pushes you to fight, run, or power through discomfort. It also acts as a distraction. Your brain focuses on the music—the rhythm, the lyrics, the emotional high—and not on the burning in your legs or the fact that you’d really rather stop and eat a pizza.
This effect doesn’t just work at the gym. Upbeat, instrumental music can help you power through work tasks, cleaning marathons, or long study sessions. It tricks your brain into finding a rhythm, and rhythm—that sweet, predictable pattern—makes any task feel easier.
Want proof? Try working to a lo-fi hip-hop playlist or a steady beat of classical symphonies. You’ll get more done and feel less stressed doing it.
Music as Emotional Catharsis: Your Breakup Soundtrack
When you’re sad, why do you seek out sad music? Wouldn’t happy songs make more sense?
Psychologists call this the paradox of pleasant sadness. Listening to sad songs when you’re feeling down actually helps you process your emotions. Instead of bottling up heartbreak, music lets you live inside it. You feel the pain, the longing, the grief—but you do so safely inside the walls of a song. And when the song ends, you feel lighter. You’ve released something.
Music can validate your feelings, too. It says, You’re not alone. Someone else has felt this way before. There’s comfort in that shared humanity. Heartbreak songs are a sort of emotional roadmap. They show you where you are (crushed, hopeless, and emotionally raw) but suggest that others have made it through. The lyrics might say, "I’m destroyed," but the existence of the song itself says, "I survived it enough to write this."
Take Adele’s Someone Like You. It’s devastating, a gut punch of longing and acceptance. And yet, as the melody soars and dips, there’s a strange sense of closure. You might still miss the person, but the song reminds you that pain doesn’t last forever. It moves, evolves, and becomes part of the fabric of who you are. Sad songs don’t just reflect heartbreak—they help you understand it, sit with it, and, eventually, move through it.
This emotional catharsis applies to other types of grief, too. Songs about loss, disappointment, or change provide space to feel deeply in a way that’s often frowned upon in daily life. In a world that tells you to “move on” or “stay positive,” music gives you permission to linger in the sadness a little while longer. It’s not indulgent; it’s healing.
And let’s not forget the power of a good scream-along song. There’s something primal about blasting Alanis Morissette’s You Oughta Know or Paramore’s Misery Business and singing every word at the top of your lungs. It’s raw, it’s loud, and it’s freeing—like punching a pillow for your soul.
So, yes, sad songs make sense. They don’t fix your heartbreak, but they offer something even better: the chance to feel it fully, express it safely, and come out the other side a little lighter, a little stronger, and maybe even ready to press play on something upbeat again.
Music and Work: The Soundtrack to Productivity
Music isn’t just for moments of emotional highs and lows; it’s a tool for getting things done. When you’re stuck on a tough project or need to power through mundane tasks, the right music can transform your environment. Think of it like setting the scene for a movie—but you’re the star, and the task is your epic montage.
For focus-intensive work, instrumental music—like classical, ambient, or lo-fi beats—can help drown out distractions and keep your brain engaged. Without lyrics competing for your attention, your thoughts settle into a steady rhythm, allowing you to write, study, or create with laser-like focus.
Meanwhile, upbeat music can add energy to your workflow for repetitive or physical tasks—whether you’re answering emails, cleaning the house, or inputting data. Studies show that music with a fast tempo increases productivity and reduces feelings of fatigue. You’re no longer just scrubbing dishes or typing away; you’re in a groove, driven by a beat.
Music can also transform your mood, turning a day of slogging through work into something more enjoyable. Ever heard of the "Mozart Effect"? While it’s been debated, the idea that classical music can improve spatial reasoning and mental performance speaks to how music primes the brain for focus and creativity.
And let’s not forget its ability to reduce stress. When work starts to feel overwhelming, calming soundscapes—like acoustic guitar, nature sounds, or chill instrumental playlists—can lower your heart rate and ease tension. Music doesn’t just help you work better; it helps you work happier.
So, the next time you find yourself staring at a blank screen or dragging your feet through a tedious task, put on your headphones and press play. The right music might just be the push you need to turn work into flow—and flow into success.
Summing Up: Play On
Music is more than entertainment, whether you’re dancing in the kitchen with headphones on, hammering out a project with instrumental beats, crying into your breakup playlist, or reliving memories on a long drive. It’s medicine for the mind, fuel for the body, and food for the soul—just like Shakespeare said.
So, if you’re feeling stuck, stressed, or disconnected, maybe all you need is the right song. Music won’t solve every problem, but it just might make you feel alive while you work through them.
So, as Count Orsino wisely commanded, if music be the food of love—or the food of whatever it is you need today—play on.
