Have you ever thought about the connection between music and emotion? Like, really thought about it. Not just that sad songs are sad and happy songs are happy – obviously. I know I clutch at straws sometimes but even I couldn’t get a whole article out of that sentiment.
Stay with me.
I was watching Grey’s Anatomy today – not recommended for lunchtime viewing if you are as emotionally unstable as I am but here we are – and I got lost in a thought cycle of whether or not I was crying because it was ‘sad music’ or if it was because I’ve been consuming that kind of melody over emotional scenes on TV and film since I was born.
Is my brain programmed to register that music with sad emotions or does the music itself evoke those kinds of emotions? Or, more likely, is it a combination of the two?
Just as I was about to distract myself from my planned afternoon of work (read: watch more back-to-back episodes of Grey’s) down a deep rabbit warren on research about music and emotion, I remembered one of Megan Moroney’s songs: ‘What Are You Listening To?’.
Originally by Chris Stapleton, Moroney has injected her Georgia Girl energy into the track ten years on and, let me tell you, it’s a banger.
One of her least streamed songs across Spotify, I personally feel it hasn’t had the airtime it deserves (but really, what do I know?). Regardless, there’s something about Moroney’s voice, particularly on this track. Maybe it’s her subtle rasp or maybe it feels more purposeful or maybe, just maybe, there’s real heartache in those chords.
The song explores the nuances of post-break up blues and craving the understanding of how the other person is feeling just by knowing what song they’re listening to…is it LA sunny or Memphis blue? I wish I knew…
I thought about that connection between music and emotion – not just how it makes you feel, but how you can infer someone else’s mood from what they’re listening to. And even then, I think it goes deeper than that.
Don’t get me wrong, if I met a stranger and asked what they were listening to and they told me it was, I don’t know, ‘I Will Always Love You’ by Whitney Houston, then I’d take a wild stab and suggest they were sad and hurting. But if I was to follow up that question with, why? I’d get a little insight into their soul.
At least, you would if you asked me.
If you ask me what I’m listening to, you’re asking so much more. Maybe you don’t mean to, but you are. You’re asking what mood I’m in, what soothes my soul, fixes my heart, pumps me up or calms me down. You’re saying hey, can I step inside your mind for a minute? And I’ll lap it up every time. I’ll tell you what I’m listening to, and given half the chance, I’ll tell you all the reasons why.
Maybe something in the lyrics resonates with me. Maybe I get a kick from the particular way the beat drops on the last chorus. Maybe every time I listen to it, I’m transported back to the way I felt the first time I heard it. Maybe it reminds me of my mum. Maybe it reminds me of my dad. Maybe it’s a playlist called ‘music for concentration’ because I’m totally overstimulated and need to focus but I hate the quiet.
Music is my love language (it’s a secret sixth one that I just made up but go with it). The idea that someone would know how I’m feeling just by knowing what I was listening to honestly makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. For me, love is coming home and knowing how my day has been by what’s playing in the house – am I sipping on a large glass of red while Megan Moroney spins on the record player? Am I belting out some Mitchell Tenpenny through the Alexa in the kitchen or have I got my headphones in hoovering listening to Kelsea Ballerini? Maybe Morgan Wallen is sounding slightly tinny form my phone balanced on the sink while I’m in the shower.
If you heard it, would you know how I was feeling? It’s like those notes you’d send to your mate at school: the invisible ink (what I’m listening to) and the magic light that reveals the message (you, knowing how I feel). No questions needed. I guess that’s a stretch of an analogy but we’re going with it.
It’s the chasm of difference between hey, I heard this and thought of you and hey, I heard this and thought about you.
And I think that’s what makes this song so poignant – for me, anyway. Maybe I’m on my own here but if you love someone so deeply that you don’t even need to ask how they’re feeling to know, if you could have all of your answers with one tiny insight into their life, if you think of them every time you play a song…well, it’s no wonder we’re ugly crying to this one.
Just me?
Watch Megan Moroney's CMT Campfire Session below and tell me you don't connect with this song - even she says the original is 'criminally underrated'.
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