When the Record Skip Becomes the Rhythm

There was a Tuesday last month where everything felt like it was breaking. My car wouldn't start, a project fell through, and the gray sky felt like it was sitting right on my shoulders. I ended up at a small record store that holds listening parties. We all sat on the floor, some on milk crates, while the shop owner played an old soul album from start to finish. We weren't allowed to talk while the music was playing. We just sat there, thirty strangers in a dimly lit room, letting the brass section and the lyrics wash over us. It felt like a collective exhale.

There is a profound healing quality in experiencing sound as a group. When we listen to a heavy song together, it validates our own internal heaviness. It’s as if the music says, 'I see this pain,' and the people around you nodding in time say, 'We see it too.' This is the antidote to the isolation that so often accompanies mental health struggles. You realize that your personal 'record skip'—those moments where life feels stuck or broken—is actually just a rhythm that someone else has danced to before. It transforms a private burden into a shared human experience.

Music venues and listening spaces act as modern-day sanctuaries. They provide a structure for our emotions when we feel formless. I’ve seen people walk into a show looking like they were carrying the weight of the world and walk out two hours later looking lighter, their shoulders dropped from their ears. It’s not that their problems vanished; it’s that they were reminded of their own resilience through the art of others. We need these communal auditory experiences to process what we can't quite put into sentences yet.

If you are feeling untethered, find a place where people are making or playing music. Don't worry about being social if you don't have the energy for it. Just exist in the space. Let the vibrations do the heavy lifting for a while. There is a quiet dignity in showing up for yourself by showing up for the art. You’ll find that the rhythm of the crowd eventually helps you find your own feet again. We are all just trying to stay in tune, and it’s a lot easier to do when you can hear the person next to you.