I Heard There Was a Secret Chord: Music as Medicine

by Daniel J. Levitin

Science seeks to find truth in the natural world; art seeks to find truth in the emotional world. Medicine fits somewhere in between,

the word “motion” is part of the word “emotion.” Both come from the Latin emovere: to move, move out, or move through. As music moves through us, it signals, exercises, and invokes emotions.

Inevitably, the reality we encounter differs from our expectations of what we thought we would find.”)

“More than anything else, rhythm and harmony find their way into the inmost soul and take strongest hold upon it.”

Dorian mode was considered suitable for mourning; Phrygian mode was used to control digestive problems; Lydian imparted good cheer, optimism, friendliness, and a tendency to laughter, love, and song when it was well executed, but could lead to weeping and sadness when not.

Jamais vu is a state that every musician and actor seeks to attain when they are performing. The late Burt Bacharach probably sang “Alfie” more than a thousand times. But as pianist and producer Shelly Berg said, “Every time he sings it, it sounds—and feels—like he is singing it for the first time ever. And that’s what audiences

We also connect anything we’re hearing with what we’ve heard before, and that deeply enriches the listening experience. Our musical memories begin before birth and evolve as we grow. As long as we are listening, we keep adding to those memories, reinterpreting the new in light of the old, and in the process, recontextualizing the old. Your brain is changing all the time, and so are your emotional states, and so the “music medicine” you receive is essentially a brand-new medicine each time. The brain that hears that favorite song today is different from the brain that heard it last month. The journey through music is a never-ending one, guiding us through moments of joy and sorrow, discovery and nostalgia, a faithful friend that is always there to lift us up or help us through rough times. As long as we keep listening, we move forward, one note at a time.

Music is, at its heart, both communal and intensely private at the same time. What other human activity can be experienced with tens of thousands of others, and still feel so personal?