Is it just me, or have the past few weeks been really hard? I've always found this stretch of time between winter and spring particularly long. Week upon week exists with weather that's not quite cold enough for long underwear under your jeans (although I hear this weekend is supposed to be a doozy as far as frigidity is concerned), but it's definitely not warm enough to forsake donning multiple layers for the short walk to Humanities (and consequently looking like an Eskimo on your way to class). And you have reason to be crabby — second semester is underway, you're realizing that the classes you thought you'd like are actually courses from hell and it seems like everyone, and everything, is covered by an immovable dark cloud that just won't let up.
These weeks are tedious without question, and, as with most things, everyone has different ways of dealing with this sort of slump. Some turn to retail therapy — and with Urban Outfitters' amazing recent sale, who can blame them? Others succumb to watching Law & Order or America's Next Top Model marathons. Still others shout, "To hell with it all!" and head to the Church Key to party away their blues. There are different methods of dealing and mine, as you might have guessed, is with music. Call me a nerd — or just a music freak — but a bad day (bad week, bad month) for me usually equals continuous play of the "F-ck Off" play list on my iPod. After a hard week, there's a certain solace to be found in the melancholy and angst-ridden sounds of the Fray's "Over My Head (Cable Car)" or Something Corporate's "Bad Day." Throw in Dylan's "Like a Rolling Stone" and "The Scientist" by Coldplay and you've got a great soundtrack for the proverbial pity party.
There's something to be said for sitting around, throwing in a depressing album and just feeling sorry for yourself. Admittedly, I've found myself doing that quite a bit lately. I thought it served as a sort of catharsis — you know, cry a little with Dashboard permeating the background and then move on with business. I discovered, though, that the sadder the music was that I listened to, the sadder I got. And that's when I stumbled upon the following nugget of research wisdom in the latest issue of (who knew?) Cosmopolitan magazine.
According to Cosmo, a recent University of Manchester study discovered that by stimulating muscles in our ears, music can trigger the pleasure center in our brains, causing a decided increase in mood. Though this tidbit was not probed with a great deal of detail (there were shirtless men for the magazine's editors to focus on, after all), it hit me as a particularly interesting, as well as relevant, piece of information.
The fact that the music we listen to can affect our mood is not an exceptionally groundbreaking discovery. It makes sense, I suppose, that our surroundings influence the way we feel — hanging out with a particularly cheerful friend usually brightens one's own mood, just as watching Reese Witherspoon and Mark Ruffalo in "Just Like Heaven" can make viewers feel spoony (great word, right?) themselves. So, it is then entirely feasible that our iPods have the ability to exude some sort of control over our moods and feelings. Thinking this way, our lives can be viewed as rare cases in which the soundtrack influences the "movie," instead of the other way around.
If music is so closely connected to our moods, why is it my (and I'm assuming others') first instinct to remedy bad moods with sad music? Is it because misery loves company? In our crabby and not-so-happy states, do we seek out depressing sounds because we need some level of validation? If Isaac Slade of the Fray can sing, "Everyone knows I'm in over my head," does that make it easier for us to admit that we ourselves feel overwhelmed?
There's truth to be seen here. One of the main goals of music, I think, is to create a sense of unity between musician and listeners. This unity is founded on common themes of emotions, ideals and subject matter — all of which provide opportunities for individuals feeling a certain way to find validation in the expressed views of a certain song. Music and mood are connected because music is merely a medium for feelings felt by the majority of an audience.
When considering these points, one must also raise the question of music influencing actions. When Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold carried out a shooting spree in Colorado's Columbine High School in 1999, their passion with goth, violent video games and heavy metal lifestyle raised controversy, bringing about questions of the violence-laden music reported to have permeated the two teens' lives. While music choices were certainly not the only catalysts for the school violence that erupted nearly seven years ago, the idea of music's influence on actions is not that far-fetched. On a smaller scale, I'll admit to occasionally shedding a few tears while listening to "Turpentine Chaser" and not being able to contain a spontaneous dance party when the Scissor Sisters blare over my speakers while I'm getting ready in the morning.
I realize I took this line of reasoning on a bit of a tangent, but at the core of the argument I am merely urging you, dear readers, to take what you are listening to seriously and recognize that it might hold more power over the way you feel than normally thought. After all, there's scientific (and Cosmopolitan!) proof. So, as you slough through the rest of winter, waiting for spring to start making its much-awaited appearance, allow yourself a few melancholy songs, but know that a quick pick-me-up is only a short dance mix or golden oldie away.
Laura Stanelle is a sophomore planning to major in journalism. Though a Wisconsinite, she is sick of winter and is currently playing The Beatles' "Here Comes the Sun" to lift her spirits. She can be reached for question or comment at [email protected].
