If you’re like me, on most days you’re tired. Running behind on a seemingly endless to-do list. Over-stimulated.

You’ll take the 10-minute comfort meal on the couch over prepping an elaborate three-course dinner, a soft pair of torn-up sweatpants over chic matching loungewear, a laugh-out-loud K-drama rom-com over an Oscar-winning emotional rollercoaster that plumbs the depths of the human experience. And there’s age, of course. Older (generally) tends to equal ‘more weighed down by life things’. There’s a finite amount of you to go around and an infinite number of things to stay on top of: jobs and bills and self-care and community.

I’m writing this with the clarity of someone on a short holiday from my 9-to-5. I am a different person. When it comes to music, who can be blamed for retreating back to the digital echo chamber conveniently crafted for you by the Spotify algorithm. Or a sonic nostalgia cave full of the things imprinted hard into your psyche through decades of core, formative memories?

Maybe this is shameful to admit, here in this space where we talk about saving indie music and the importance of listening to new music, but often I have to force myself to listen to new things. And this is despite my wholehearted belief in the concept: there’s a gap between what I know I should do and what I want to do, and what actually happens in my busy day-to-day. I’m so envious of the people for whom this happens easily, naturally, habitually.

Music is a key part of how I emotionally regulate and manage my mental health. When I need a quick fix, it’s often easier to go back to the tried and true. So as much as I’m writing these words for the reader, this is also very much about how I talk myself into breaking out of my comfort zone and building the habit of discovery.

Admittedly, this is not an article about staying open-minded and avoiding creative stagnation, or why listening to new music is good for your brain, and how it’s a game changer when it comes to seeing the world from other perspectives.

This is about joy.

Do you remember the thrill of the first time you heard a song that you really loved? The dopamine rush of that first chorus hitting, a shiver-inducing harmony, a beat that makes you want to dance even when you’re in public, the lyrics that suddenly make you feel seen and less alone, the unforgettable voice or performance that leaves you needing to know ‘Wait, who is that?’

It would be sad to shut yourself off to that experience, forever. To say ‘No thank you, I would rather not know this joy ever again.’ Put like that, the answer seems obvious. But easier said than done.

The first order of business is creating the space and time for the habit. Starting small. Once a week, I force myself to listen to Spotify’s (yes, Spotify) top 50 global and country playlists.

I say ‘listen,’ but to be honest, after the top ten or fifteen I lose my patience and my resolve and my good intentions. My attention span thereafter narrows to 30 seconds. I skip the ones I already know I don’t like. This is me practicing what I preach.

Most of the time it’s an intellectual exercise: ‘Ah, so this is what’s going down in the Philippines or Norway or South Korea’. Analysing production trends, contemplating the big three record companies’ monopoly on music, or finally realising what that song that’s been taking over TikTok is.

Every once in a while that magical thing happens.

A song makes me freeze in my tracks and forget what I’m doing. I lose all awareness of the world around me. A feeling of joy builds up slowly, almost before I even realise it. My brain short-circuits into very little conscious thought beyond ‘Well hello, what’s this now?’ It’s an instinctive knowing, and a pausing, and then, like water coming to a boil, the joy hits. Like an addict, I worship at the altar of that dopamine rush.

In the first frenzied ecstasy of discovery, I could happily listen to the same song 50 times in a row. Discovering something new each time that makes my toes wiggle in delight and my heart sing and the hairs on my arms stand up. I squeeze more joy out of a really great part, like unpacking the best gift in the world, over and over again.

You know how sometimes you think ‘I wish I could erase this from my memory and learn it all over again’? My theory is (yes, another one) that a good song or a good album only gets better the more you listen to it. Eventually, perhaps, it will get moved to a category of ‘only when I’m in the right mood’ or ‘damn, I haven’t heard that in ages, let me listen again’. And you still gain something precious.

Dear reader, don’t turn your back on that feeling. Spend a little time listening to something new. Don’t let the world take that joy away from you.