What good is Music if it tells you what you Already know?

You already know how heartbreak feels. You already know what joy sounds like. And yet, somehow, a song can make those emotions feel clearer, heavier, and more real than your own thoughts ever could. We all listen to some kind of music—but why do we listen to music at all? It takes time, effort, and money, yet we keep coming back to it. We yearn for it.

Humans are deeply emotional and social beings. We crave meaningful connections and honest conversations. But real life doesn’t always deliver that. People don’t always understand us, and sometimes explaining ourselves feels exhausting. So we look for something—or someone—that gets us.

Music becomes that place.

Music is the product of an artist’s mind, body, and soul. Every song carries intention, effort, and lived experience. When we listen, we are not just hearing sound—we are connecting with another human’s inner world.

We listen to music because it helps us feel relatable, allows us to explore the world, and gives us a way to escape reality without abandoning it completely.

Most of the time, we listen to music that aligns with our current mood. We do this because music amplifies what we already feel—love, excitement, grief, calm, anger. It heightens our emotional chemistry and gives shape to feelings we might not know how to name. Lyrics add meaning; melodies add emotion. Together, they help us understand ourselves better.

Music also helps us socialize in a unique way. Sharing music—or accepting someone else’s taste—is a quiet form of emotional participation. To accept someone’s music is, in some sense, to accept their emotions and their way of being.

Artists are the ones who go where most of us are afraid to go. They explore toxic love, addiction, violent emotions, despair, and extreme human experiences. These places can be chaotic and dangerous if faced without understanding. Artists take us there virtually, allowing us to witness, feel, and learn—without having to destroy ourselves in the process. As the saying goes: “Artists arrive at the truth first; philosophers come later to explain it.”

Unfortunately, for some people, music becomes their only refuge. When isolation feels easier than vulnerability, music replaces social interaction. Listening becomes a substitute for connection rather than a bridge to it. While music can comforts us without demanding anything in return, but comfort without risk has its limits. Music can hold us together in moments of loneliness, yet it also reflects what we are avoiding—conversations left unspoken, connections left unrealized.

Music tied to memories can feel particularly magical—it can instantly transport us back in time, filling us with nostalgia. This bittersweet emotion, which I explored in more depth in my post Nostalgia Destroys Souls!!, reminds us that while music can comfort, it can also keep us lingering in the past if we’re not careful.

Is music holding us together… or quietly pointing to what we’re still avoiding?