Why do I still hear that song/ Show’s over, everybody’s gone/ Although silence fills the empty halls/ And there’s no one here at all/ Still the music will not end/ Why do I still hear that song. (Sang by Walter Murphy, 1978)
After I’ve had a long day or have surmounted prolonged ordeals and I sit down to sigh, the song above plays in my head telling me something’s not really over. That has been the case for over 20 years. It is what they call an “earworm” — a music loop stuck in your head. I learned that from neuroscientist and former rock band musician Daniel Levitin’s The World in Six Songs (Plume, NY 2008). More than that, reading his work put me in a room with him — a room with me as the jukebox. For a week, he played music in that “room” using six “coins”: friendship, joy, comfort, knowledge, religion and love. These were the roles of music that Levitin thinks shaped human civilization. In musical surrender, I stayed in that “room” as the jukebox powered by six coins.
Lean on me, when you’re not strong/I’ll be your friend, I’ll help you carry on... we all need somebody to lean on. (Sang by Bill Withers, 1972)
That song is so powerful when sang as a group. Somehow, it does not seem to unleash all the power it has if sung solo. When we sing that as a group in a karaoke joint or when in a party, we all feel very bonded. Apart from the lyrics which speak so truthfully about real friendships, singing together releases a hormone called oxytocin which is known to make people trust each other. Music forged and strengthened friendships within and among groups which helped humans survive throughout history. Life was so much more bearable and joyful if you’ve got a friend singing “you’ve got a friend…”
Dance with me, I want to be your partner/ Can’t you see the music is just starting/ Night is falling and I am calling/Dance with me. (Sang by Orleans, 1975)
That song strums through me with such a strong infusion of joie de vivre that it tickles! It just gives me that levity that could shame a hot air balloon ride. Playing or listening to music even by yourself regulates your dopamine and serotonin levels, hormones which help you with your mood and give your immune system a boost. Levitin also mentioned studies where how an important antibody called immune-globulin (IgA) which helps us fight colds, flu and other infections of the mucous system increased by listening to music. Joy is something that music gives and feeling good is a sign of good health. Music evolved because being joyful helped in staying alive.
Edelweiss, Edelweiss/ Every morning you greet me/Small and white clean and bright/ You look happy to meet me/ Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow/ Bloom and grow forever/ Edelweiss, Edelweiss/ Bless my homeland forever. (The Sound of Music, 1965).
The Sound of Music was the first film I have watched. My father loved this song and made it our anthem in every family event or when we partied with other families. Long after my parents separated when I was 13, my two siblings and I still sing this song reminding us that home is not really a spot but a comforting place in your head that assures you of the rhythm and consistency of parental love, despite inevitable separations. Comfort songs usually also bring some tinge of sadness. There is a tranquilizing hormone called prolactin that we release when we are sad. You can find it in tears of sorrow but not in tears of laughter or when you feign sadness. It is nature’s way to calm us, to conserve our energies for what we cannot change and gear up for what we can and move on.
And why have eyes that see and arms that reach unless you’re meant to know there’s something more/ And if not hunger for the meaning of it all then tell me what a soul is for? (Sang by Barbra Streisand in the film “Yentl,” 1983)
This was the song during my teenage years of obsessive questioning. After years in one of the convent school for girls, I stepped into a co-ed university and breathed an explosive sigh of relief that the world was so much bigger than our sturdy but intellectually insulated high school. Music expresses who we are and in this case, our uniqueness as a species to understand beyond ourselves, operate beyond our instincts. Music of knowledge also includes those facts and processes about the world that have been put into song for easy remembrance. Remember that song connecting the hip bone to the thigh bone or sampung mga daliri, kamay at paa? The wiring for music in our brains is ancient, older than language. These are structures, Levitin explains, that we share with other mammals: the brain stem, cerebellum and pons. He also explained that repetitions and themes in music also give it predictability which makes it easier for recall.
And if only fools are kind, Alfie, then I guess it is wise to be strong. Then if life belongs only to the strong Alfie, what will you lend on an old golden rule... I know there’s something much more… (Written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David, 1966)
Whether you believe in something or not, there are songs which take you outside of yourself — to your deepest hopes and dreams for humanity. This is how music has played a role in terms of “religion” according to Levitin. These songs “elevate us from the mundane and day-to-day to consider our world, the future of the world, the very nature of existence.” These songs are also found in rituals, in rites of passage that connect humans with their ideals. They are the notes of hope enabling altruistic behavior which has also helped our kind survive and shape the civilization we have.
You must remember this, a kiss is still a kiss/ A sigh is just a sigh/ The fundamental things apply as time goes by/ And when two lovers woo, they still say I love you/On that you can rely/The world will always welcome lovers as time goes by. (Sang by Dooley Wilson in the film “Casablanca,” 1942)
My late husband sang that to me I think almost every day of our shared lives. It is one of the songs I sang to his ear as he permanently slipped from my embrace. Music like that and how they serve to bookmark all kinds of love relationships survives long after we have sighed our last. Before a woman was rescued from the rubble in Haiti, she shouted from beneath that if she does not survive the rescue, she wanted her husband to know that she loved him so much. When she was finally rescued, the first sound she uttered was a song. She sang. Having faced imminent death and then having a chance again at life, she entered it in song.
That was the story of that room with Levitin and the jukebox in my head. The lesson is the same for you and me across the world, across human history: Hold on to the music of your lives. They make for who you are and they will move our human story forward.
* * *
For comments, e-mail dererumnaturastar@hotmail.com