COMFORT IN SOUND
The grounding power of our favourite music
Words
LAKEISHA GOEDLUCK
Photography
SARAH PANNELL
Last Friday night, I decided to go a little experimental with my makeup look. As someone who has never owned a blusher brush, I knew I was likely being overly ambitious. I attempted to copy Euphoria character Maddy Perez’ rhinestone eyelid aesthetic. So, I sat cross-legged in front of my mirror with eyelash glue and tiny gems balanced on my fingertips.
Five minutes in, there were no rhinestones on my eyelids but plenty glued to my palm. As I could feel the frustration mounting, I decided to launch the Friday playlist I’d compiled with my girlfriends. Skipping through the pop bangers, I landed on a track that hit the spot — Frank Sinatra’s That’s Life.
I quietly hummed along and managed to glue the crystals into place. I often find that music has this effect on me. No matter my emotional state, I can put a certain genre on and music drifts into my ears, like a warm hug or a soothing pat on the head. As a child, my grandma would often listen to Elvis’s back catalog — his soft, romance-laden love songs were her favourite. She would sit in front of the TV with her rolling pins in, smile and tap along with her feet. Excitable and usually full of sugar, I would sit by her and find myself swaying to the sound of Love Me Tender or Falling in Love With You.
Over the years, old crooners of bygone eras have dutifully offered some oft-needed easy listening. Anything by Andy Williams is a perfect after-dinner treat at Christmas: a chance to truly wind down and slump into a restful food coma. Classic Nat King Cole tracks like Unforgettable and L.O.V.E. (an iconic moment from the Parent Trap (1998) soundtrack, for those who know) fill me with a delectable sense of joy.
Whatever I’m doing, whether going for a run, making breakfast, or simply trying to unwind after a long day at work, there’s nothing like an easygoing playlist to accompany my thoughts. As I write this piece, Etta James melodiously transports me back to the 60s. As impassioned as I’d Rather Go Blind is (Beyoncé’s rendition will attest to this), there’s something about the richness of James’ voice. It’s also the combination of the backing singers’ gentle oohs and the plucky guitar strings that calms my mind and makes me feel as if I’m sat at a small table in a dimly-lit jazz club, immersing myself in the moment. One of my resolutions for this year was to invest more in self-care, which oftentimes means taking time out to unwind and feel present in a moment.
Whether reading a book in bed while The Girl from Ipanema crackles along softly in the background or plugging my AirPods in to go for a crisp walk in the snow to listen to Aretha Franklin’s entire discography, I believe that life feels that bit sweeter with gentle music to softly serenade you at any time, in any place.