instruments
All about musical instruments, their tunes, and the people that play them.
Notes from the Mind Palace.
Music doesn’t just “inspire” me. It rewires me. It grabs my skull like it’s trying to tune a radio, and suddenly every part of me snaps into alignment. My thoughts stop tripping over each other. My nerves stop buzzing. The world gets quieter, even when the volume is stupidly loud. I don’t listen to music — I use it. The louder the music gets, the quieter those internal voices become — the ones that try to tell me I’m nothing, the ones that show up when I’m tired or hurting or stretched too thin. Volume becomes a shield. Bass becomes a boundary. A song becomes the thing that steps between me and the parts of my mind that don’t always play fair. It even helps with the autoimmune pain. Not in some magical “healing frequency” way — just in the way drowning in sound gives me something stronger to focus on than the ache. When the music is loud enough, my body stops screaming for a minute. I get a little space. A little breath. A little control. It’s the switch that flips me from “overstimulated parent with seven kids doing parkour through my sanity” to “feral writer pacing the room like a crow deciding which shiny object to steal.” If the song hits right, my whole brain goes cinematic. I stop seeing words and start seeing scenes: fog rolling in, headlights cutting through it, someone yelling in the distance, maybe something crawling out of the dark that shouldn’t exist. Music is the fuse that lights all of that. People think playlists are just background noise. Mine are battle plans . Each song is a mood, a memory, a weapon. Some tracks drag me back to Maine. Some drag me into the fog. Some drag me into the parts of my head I don’t talk about unless I’m writing. And some songs hit so hard I feel like I’m remembering a life I didn’t actually live. Music is the only thing that can match the chaos in my head without getting drowned out. It’s the one thing that keeps me steady. It’s the one thing that makes the stories come out clean instead of tangled. Music doesn’t just affect me. It possesses me. And honestly, I let it — because it’s one of the few things that makes the noise inside me survivable. Music doesn’t just affect me — it kidnaps me. It drags me by the hair into whatever universe it feels like throwing me into. And the louder it is, the quieter everything else gets. The voices that tell me I’m nothing? They get smothered under layers of distortion and screaming. They can’t compete with a sonic avalanche. I listen too loud everywhere. Car? Loud enough to rattle the bolts out of the doors. Shower? Loud enough the shampoo vibrates. Headphones? Weak. Earbuds? Pathetic. Party speaker? Coward. Nothing gets loud enough. So I keep turning it up anyway. Because when Yeah Yeah Yeahs — “Y Control” hits, something in my chest snaps awake. It’s like someone kicked the generator in my soul and yelled RUN . When Tegan and Sara — “Dark Come Soon” comes on, the world finally dims enough for me to breathe. Tiger Army — “Valley of Dreams” drowns the autoimmune pain under rhythm and pulse. Choking Victim — “In My Grave” lights a match in my ribcage and tells the darkness to fight back. Rancid — “St. Mary” is every too‑fast drive I’ve ever taken. Bad Brains — “F.V.K.” is adrenaline in audio form. Talking Heads — “Psycho Killer” is the part of my brain that laughs at the chaos, and shakes her butt a little at the sound. Social Distortion — “Far Behind” is grit and memory. something I would rather keep to myself. Bad Religion — “Generator” is the spark that keeps me writing. reminds me that there's more than what you see. Dramarama — “Anything, Anything” is the scream I never let out and the song I sing every time I feel like I could fall in love. then remind myself that love... its not for me. Then there’s The Church — “Reptile” , crawling under my skin like electricity. And Misfits — “Devils Whorehouse” , kicking open the door to the feral part of my brain. But you want chaos? Here’s chaos: Otep — “Special Pets” makes my blood feel like it’s boiling. It’s the one that shuts the internal voices up because they know they can’t compete with that kind of rage. Tool — “The Pot” hits like someone dropped a brick through my skull and rearranged the furniture inside. Mudvayne — “Dig” isn’t a song — it’s a detonation. It’s the moment the world goes white‑hot and I stop feeling anything except the beat. Volbeat — “Still Counting” is the soundtrack of every time I’ve said “I’m fine” while absolutely not being fine. Marilyn Manson — “Kill 4 Me” slinks through my nerves like a threat wrapped in velvet. Chevelle — “Take Out the Gunman” is the pulse that keeps me upright when everything hurts. Incubus — “Nice to Know You” is the moment I slam the door on the past and don’t look back. A Perfect Circle — “Magdalena” turns my brain into a cathedral full of ghosts. Straight Line Stitch — “Conversion” is the part of me that refuses to die, even when everything else is screaming. Wage War — “High Horse” is the moment I stop apologizing for being loud, chaotic, messy, and alive. "Teeth" the song that reminds me exactly where I stand with those in my life. These songs aren’t just tracks — they’re weapons . They’re shields. They’re pressure valves. They’re the only things loud enough to drown out the parts of me that try to drag me under. Music is the only thing that matches the chaos in my head without getting swallowed by it. It’s the one thing that keeps me upright. It’s the one thing that makes the stories come out clean instead of tangled.
By Syl De'Vil9 days ago in Beat
Keb’ Mo’: The Breakdown and the Long Way Home
By Brian D’Ambrosio Keb’ Mo’ has been making music for more than half a century, but he still approaches a song like there is something left to figure out. Born and raised in Compton, California, he came up listening to Nat King Cole, church singers and the blues guitarists who traced the music backward toward Mississippi. At 21, he landed a professional gig with Papa John Creach. Two decades of work as a guitarist, songwriter and arranger followed before his 1994 self-titled album introduced Keb’ Mo’ to a much wider audience. Five Grammys, an Americana Music Association Lifetime Achievement Award and collaborations with artists including Taj Mahal, Bonnie Raitt and Willie Nelson came later.
By Brian D'Ambrosio 17 days ago in Beat
The Practice Paradox: What Learning an Instrument Actually Does to a Child's Brain
A seven-year-old sitting at a piano, picking through a page of quarter notes, looks like she's doing one simple thing: pressing keys in order. She is not. In the space of a few seconds, she is reading a symbol and converting it into a motor command, coordinating two hands that are doing different things at different times, holding a steady internal pulse, listening to whether the note she just played matches the one she intended, and — if it doesn't — adjusting the next note without losing her place in the sequence. She is also, in all likelihood, thinking about the next measure while her fingers are still finishing the last one.
By Khali Sollis29 days ago in Beat
1983 ... A Merman I Shall Turn To Be
Introduction I am a member of many Facebook groups and I see many about how did progressive rock start. Very often concept albums are mooted, but one of the first concept albums is Frank Sinatra's "In The Wee Small Hours" but that while it is musical progress it is not what we are talking about.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred about a month ago in Beat
Moe Da Beast
Who Is Moe Da Beast? The Man Behind the Name In an era where the music industry is being reshaped by technology, algorithms, and the rise of the independent artist, one name is quietly — but powerfully — making noise out of Milwaukee, Wisconsin: Moe Da Beast .
By Derek Granville3 months ago in Beat
Can Artificial Intelligence Make Good Music?
Artificial intelligence has become one of the most controversial topics in modern music. Every few weeks, a new AI generated song goes viral, another artist speaks out against the technology, or a new tool promises to revolutionize music production. As AI continues to evolve, the debate has shifted from whether it can create music to whether that music should be considered art .
By Thorne Empire3 months ago in Beat
Matthew Stevens and the Many Meanings of Sound
By Brian D’Ambrosio For guitarist and composer Matthew Stevens, instrumental music is not a fixed statement but an invitation. It leaves room for listeners to bring themselves into the experience, carrying their own memories, moods, and interpretations into the music. That philosophy lies at the heart of Matthew Stevens, the Grammy-winning musician’s new self-titled release, a richly textured collection that feels both deeply personal and deliberately open-ended.
By Brian D'Ambrosio 4 months ago in Beat
Songs Sequenced
Introduction I was listening to a "Best Of" Nils Lofgren, and one of the final songs is "Secrets In The Street", which I have always loved. Lofgren is a brilliant guitarist and songwriter who has played extensively with Bruce Springsteen.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 4 months ago in Beat
Why some pupils find music to be helpful while others find it distracting
Turning off the music is a common recommendation for students who have trouble concentrating. It is believed that a distracted brain cannot afford to divide its focus. The advice seems sensible. However, recent Australian research indicates that recommendations might be focusing on the incorrect variable.
By Francis Dami5 months ago in Beat
