The Food of Love
Feeding the soul
Music plays a significant role in my life — it is not just something I listen to; it resonates within every fibre of my being.
Listening to music soothes my mind, it helps synchronise the connections between my brain and body. Each note carries a blend of emotions, taking me on an emotional journey every time I press ‘play’.
The reason behind autistic individuals’ strong affinity for music is not fully understood, but research suggests that it exists. Music seems to provide a sensory stimulation that is more manageable and predictable compared to other stimuli, offering a sanctuary of sorts. Personally, I find it easier to immerse myself in, and enjoy, music because it’s less overwhelming and perplexing than other sensory stimuli — except for Jazz, which I find too chaotic and random. Given my preference for routine and predictability, the structure and repetition in music offers me a sense of comfort and security.
Music often follows a highly structured and repetitive pattern, creating a flow that feels like a natural progression from one point to another. This aspect of music is said to be particularly attractive to autistic individuals, according to researchers. Lately, my musical obsession has revolved around a band called Wig Wam, sparked by the captivating theme tune of a TV show. Each repetition feels like rediscovering the nuances within the melody, creating a comforting familiarity amidst the ever-changing world around me.
“And songs are never quite the answer, just a soundtrack to a life” — Badly Drawn Boy
I grew up in the 70s and 80s, and it’s clear that my musical preferences are heavily influenced by that era. My Dad played a significant role in shaping my taste — I was raised on The Who, AC/DC, Rolling Stones, so it is no surprise that guitar-based rock music is where my heart lies. While I still enjoy listening to those bands, I have also developed my own eclectic tastes over time.
My Dad also introduced me to my first concert experience — Queen at Wembley Arena on September 7, 1984, when I was just 14. He followed it up by taking me to my second gig, AC/DC at the same venue. Although I’ve attended a few more concerts since then, my sensory issues make large events challenging for me. Despite this, I’ve been fortunate enough to catch performances by Ash, The Darkness (twice), Royal Blood, and Robbie Williams. However, my last major concert experience, Robbie Williams’, is memorable for the wrong reasons — struggling with sensory overload, I found myself seeking refuge in the First Aid tent after what I now recognise as a meltdown. That incident marked the end of my ventures into large-scale concert attendance and when I saw Royal Blood, it was at a small venue.
These days, I primarily listen to music on my iPhone, constantly scouting for fresh tunes, despite my iTunes library already containing over 33,000 songs. By rough estimation, I could delve into this vast collection for a whopping 107 consecutive days without encountering a repeat! One notable feature of iTunes is its song analysis tool, which allows me to pinpoint the track I’ve played the most — this March I listened to over 11,000 minutes of music (save calculator, that’s the equivalent 7.7 days solid) and, out of the 2,500 songs I’ve listened to, I’ve apparently been mainly immersing myself in the music of the band Shinedown. A few months ago, someone asked me if I often listen to tracks repeatedly. At the time, I said no, but the question has made me more conscious of my listening habits. The truth is, I absolutely do.
Music has a profound effect on me — it not only mirrors my current emotions but also transports me back to significant moments associated with the songs. For example, whenever I hear Talking Heads’ “Psycho Killer,” I’m whisked away to a sunny day at a hotel bar in Ibiza, sipping a vodka and orange while the song reverberates from a nearby stereo — a memory etched from a holiday in 1987! Similarly, immersing myself in the War of the Worlds evokes memories of dark nights nestled in the backseat of my parents’ car, embarking on family holidays amidst a world fraught with Martian invasion — a much loved family tradition.
Music serves as a potent form of emotional expression and communication for me, especially since I struggle with identifying my own feelings at times. My choice of music often serves as a barometer of my emotional state — certain bands mirror my motivation levels, while others become the source of motivation itself. Some tunes reflect my melancholy, while others encapsulate my moments of joy.
The best music acts as a soothing balm for my mind, quietly calming the chaos within and allowing me to be present without intruding on my thoughts.
“Low pitched notes really make me feel like love might be truly possible. High pitched notes make me feel like I could go crazy with pain and sadness. Great rhythms can make me feel like life is freedom.” — Jeremy Sicile-Kira
