When you first listen to a song, you decide if it does something for you. Maybe it sparks emotions in you, relates to a situation you’re going through, or simply is easy to listen to. Regardless of what it does to you, if you like it, you listen to that special selection on noises over and over again. Perhaps you sing along a little too loud when it plays on the radio.
Then there comes a point when you’ve heard it enough. You know there is no shortage of music, and the repetition isn’t doing anything for you anymore, especially now you know the lyrics or can hum along perfectly to each chord.
So you move on. If it happens to be a radio favourite it will start to annoy you. You’ve heard it too much. But then time passes and it makes its way back onto your playlist. But you don’t listen to it the same way you used to. Your heart doesn’t match the beat, the instruments are no longer a unique combination, and the lyrics wash over you as mere background noise.
Sometimes, you might listen intently, desperate to feel the chills you felt when you first subjected your ears to it. Occasionally you might come close, but it won’t be the same. So you allow it to join your list of background noise. A wasteland of repetitive sounds.
And yet music is our saviour. Music drags us out of misery, congratulates us, worships us, makes us feel beautiful, wanted, needed. Without us, there would be no music industry. Without music, there may not be an “us”. We are reliant on each other.