What to Read to Really Understand Music

Have you ever tried to explain why a song gives you goosebumps and realized that words aren't enough? Writer Juliet Izon says she had this same difficulty after singing Robyn's “Dancing on My Own” with David Byrne live: it was as if her body no longer belonged to her, but finding a way to describe that feeling was almost impossible. And here's the surprise: truly understanding music doesn't mean knowing how to play or recognizing all the notes, but finding the stories, battles, and revolutions that each song carries with it. We always think that it's enough to "feel" the music, but those who really want to talk about it – or write about it, like Izon does for her characters – must learn to decipher it. And there are not only technical manuals: the books that really change the way you listen range from drummers' memoirs to novels, from neuroscientific essays to stories of unforgettable divas. Take Kelefa Sanneh, who in "Major Labels" maps the seven great families of popular music – rock, R&B, country, punk, hip-hop, dance, pop – and shows you how each genre is the result of cross-pollination, migration, and return. Or think of Questlove, the drummer from the Roots, who tells in "Mo' Meta Blues" how the Philadelphia hip-hop scene is made up of bonds that can make you fly or destroy you, and that an artist's career is often a struggle between the support of the community and the ego of those who are part of it. Then there's Deborah Paredez, who in "American Diva" overturns the idea of diva as an insult: for her, being too much, being loud, being "difficult" is the way women like Aretha Franklin or Grace Jones have defended their right to exist. The novel "Bel Canto" by Ann Patchett, on the other hand, succeeds where many fail: describing the effect of music on people through the story of a soprano who, during a hostage crisis, manages to make everyone – jailers and prisoners – forget who they are, even if only for the duration of an aria. In "How Music Works," David Byrne, the lead singer of Talking Heads, shows you how much the place where you listen or play changes the music itself, and even reveals how much money goes into and out of producing a record, destroying the myth of the musician who lives only on art. But the book that most changes your ears is that of Daniel Levitin: a neuroscientist and musician, he shows how music is medicine for the brain, capable of helping those suffering from Parkinson's, stroke, or serious trauma to walk better thanks to rhythm. And there's one detail you won't forget: the brain finds new pathways thanks to music, literally rewiring itself to adapt to the rhythm, even when all seems lost. Finally, "Please Kill Me" by Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain is proof that punk is not just studs and leather jackets: it is a collective story, told by the irreverent voices of Iggy Pop, Patti Smith, and the Ramones, where all arrogance and fragility is left intact, because chaos is part of the truth. However, there is a perspective that is often missing in those who approach music through books: the temptation to seek a single logical explanation, a universal recipe to understand why something strikes us. But music, just like life, resists any attempt at reduction: sometimes the answer lies not in the lyrics or the technique, but in the personal story that song goes through – and that you may never know. If you really want to understand music, don't stop at the "how" or the "why": ask yourself "who" is behind it, and leave room for the unpredictable. Music cannot be explained; it is experienced. If you now think that understanding music is listening to stories before even listening to notes, you are already one step ahead. If this idea has sparked something in you, you can press I'm In on Lara Notes: it's the way to say that this perspective is now part of you, and not just of what you listen to. And if in a few days you find yourself telling someone that music can really rewire the brain or that the word "diva" once meant "goddess", on Lara Notes you can mark that conversation with Shared Offline – because certain ideas can only be understood together. All this comes from The Atlantic and saves you 2 minutes of reading.