Nowadays, as a way of coping with the steady stream of bad news flowing through social media, I immerse myself in music. When the world feels loud, chaotic and overwhelming, music becomes my quiet refuge. It steps in like a gentle healer, offering a kind of relief that words alone cannot give. Like a pharmacist of the soul, music dispenses melodies to numb life's bruises and harmonies to soothe our existential aches. It does not pretend to solve all the problems we battle daily, but it offers small islands of calm in a restless sea.
Over time, I’ve come to realise that the music I turn to most often isn’t from the present day. It is the timeless collection of sounds from the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s. These decades feel like rich soil where true musical therapy grows. For me, these years were the eras of sonic alchemy, when melody met magic and musicians created from a place that felt honest. The songs made during those times still carry weight, spirit and tenderness. There is a depth in them that pulls you in and makes you feel understood.
Think about the haunting harmonies of “Killing Me Softly” by The Fugees. That song is more than a track. It is an experience. The blend of voices, the slow emotional rise, the softness in the delivery, all come together in a way that almost feels like someone placing a warm hand on your shoulder. Then there is R. Kelly’s “I Believe I Can Fly.” Regardless of the controversies around the artist, the song itself remains uplifting. It carries the message of hope, faith, and belief in possibilities. When it plays, something in the heart stands a little taller.
And how do you explain the sheer tranquility of listening to “Let It Be” by Paul McCartney and The Beatles? The simplicity of the lyrics alone is enough to settle a disturbed mind. The song reminds you that not every storm requires your full strength to fight. Sometimes, peace comes when you let life unfold without force. Bob Marley’s “One Love” works the same way. It washes over you like cool water on a hot day. It is warm, welcoming and reassuring in a world that often feels bitter and divided.
These songs, and many other retro masterpieces, evoke a feeling that goes beyond nostalgia. They pull from something buried deep within us. They tap into the collective unconscious, bringing back memories you didn’t even know you still carried. They remind you of moments you lived, moments you forgot, moments you wish you could live again. They take you back to childhood road trips, family gatherings, early friendships and times when life felt simpler. And even if you didn’t exist in those decades, the music still finds a way to feel personal.
Make no mistake, music doesn’t take away our experiential difficulties, nor does it banish the furore and angst occasioned by today’s challenges. The bills remain. The news keeps coming. Responsibilities still pile up. But music makes life tolerable. It smooths the edges of hard days. It gives you brief escapes where you can breathe without feeling weighed down. It is the celestial whisper that tranquilizes the soul, the spiritual chemistry that connects the material and the ethereal. In moments when you do not have the strength to talk to anyone, music speaks for you. When you feel misunderstood, music becomes the companion that simply stays without judgement.
Now, when I say music heals, I’m not referring to most contemporary music. I mean no disrespect to the creatives of this era, but sometimes it feels like today’s songs are part of a contest between professional growlers. It is as if autotune became the new identity card, the beats sound the same across multiple tracks, and the lyrics often resemble lines from a badly written adult film. Though modern music has its own innovations, though it has energy, flair and digital brilliance, it often lacks that timeless essence that older songs carried so effortlessly.
If you doubt it, ask yourself a simple question. What, in the name of music, is the meaning of jiggling your waist and shouting “I concur” a hundred times? How does that soothe a troubled mind? How does that heal a stressed soul? How does that move you emotionally or mentally? Instead of melody, we sometimes get noise. Instead of meaning, we get repetition. Instead of soul, we get empty hype.
Maybe I am a bit old-fashioned. Maybe I am engaging in escapism. And maybe I am holding on too tightly to the past. But I strongly believe the present times require us to find happiness wherever we can. When you live in a world that constantly throws stress, fear and uncertainty your way, you learn to protect your peace by any means possible. You learn to seek joy in the quiet corners of your day. You learn to sit with the small pleasures life still offers, even when the big ones feel out of reach.
For me, music offers a ready means of diversion. Not just any music, but good music. The kind that speaks to your spirit. The kind that holds you together when everything else feels scattered. The kind that makes your room feel warmer even when you’re sitting alone. The kind that turns an empty evening into a moment of reflection, healing and stillness.
Good music carries memories, emotions and invisible threads that tie you to other humans. It reminds you that you are not alone in your struggles. Someone somewhere felt something similar and poured it into a song. And now, years later, you can lean on that creation to steady yourself.
So as we navigate the noisy world around us, as we scroll past endless updates, as we deal with pressures from school, work, relationships and society, I think we should deliberately find what calms us. For some people it is reading, for others it is long walks or quiet moments. But for many of us, music remains the soft place where we land when the world becomes too heavy.
So make yourselves happy, friends. Nobody else will. The world will not pause to check if you are fine. Social media will not slow down to give you time to breathe. Life will not always hand you comfort. You have to create it for yourself in the ways you can. And if music is one of the things that helps you stay grounded, then hold it close. Turn up the volume. Let it carry you. Let it heal you in the small ways that matter.
Good music never gets old, and neither does the comfort it brings.