Three Life-Saving Pieces of Music

I’ve had the joy of experiencing an incredible amount of extraordinary music in my life, on vinyl, CDs, digitally, and live. I’ve been a DJ on and off since 1980, and I love playing with music and connecting music with people.

There have been three pieces of music that showed up in my life at just the right moment to help me through super challenging experiences. All three are instrumental, and two are solo musicians.

I was about 3 months sober in AA when I met a guy who was new in the program who fit the mold of the quintessential alcoholic. He was a complete mess and utterly incapable of taking care of himself. I started taking him to meetings, quite truly because I didn’t think he’d be able to make it there and back on his own, and then we became friends. Along with being brilliant, hysterical, and a complete mess, the one area of his life he kept clean and together was music; he was also a jazz guitarist. We used to hang out in his room many nights after meetings, listening to music. I was also a mess at the time, and was specifically having trouble falling asleep at night because I was full of stress and anxiety. My new friend had turned me on to George Winston’s December. This album was not the kind of music I would typically listen to, but something about its stark simplicity and gentleness affected me immediately. I began listening to December every night before bed to help me sleep. I would put on the CD, sit on the floor next to my bed for a few minutes to meditate, crawl into bed, and my mind would relax. Halfway through, I would fall asleep. It was a bit of a miracle. Years later, I saw him live, and after the show, we had a private conversation. I shared my December experiences with him. He had trouble breathing, and his eyes filled with tears. He took both my hands, held them, and thanked me for sharing with him. It was beautiful.

I had a very rare condition with fewer than 350 known cases globally called tumor-induced osteomalacia. There were several challenging symptoms, including my bones changing shape and form. Because of this, it was very common for my ribs and spine to fracture during simple life activities like hugging, laughing, and turning over in bed. I could barely walk with a cane for several years. This went on for six or seven years and got progressively worse. The PCP I was working with was desperately wanting to find somebody who could figure out what was going on in my body because none of the other professionals, healers, herbalists, etc., were having any success. He referred me to an endocrinologist out of a lack of a better idea, who happened to be a fellow on the unit at the National Institutes of Health, researching this particular condition, which I had never heard of. He referred me to the NIH, and two months later, I was there for 12 days of testing. One of the tests is an OctreoScan, a large machine. This test requires someone to lie on their back for about 5 hours while the imaging device completes its process. Here’s the thing: lying on my back on a comfortable bed for 10 minutes was excruciating for me; the idea of lying on my back for 5 hours on basically a gurney was terrifying. They offered me a non-addictive sedative beforehand so that I could relax. As we were about to get going, the man operating the imaging system asked me if I wanted any music to play, but the only two options he had were a CD of Christmas songs and Miles Davis’s Kind of Blue. I almost jumped out of the gurney when he mentioned Miles Davis. Due to the sedative, I came in and out of consciousness throughout the five-plus hours. Every time I was awake, the music’s rhythm and melodies felt like being stroked by a feather by some kind of mystical god or goddess.

Don’t like ads? Become a supporter and enjoy The Good Men Project ad free

They found what they were looking for and were able to remove the benign tumor and parts of three ribs the following month. Over the next few months, as my body started to improve, whenever I felt nervous or scared, the theme from “Freddy Freeloader,” the first song on the album, would start playing in my head, and I would hum along. That song and that album were the theme of my recovery as I began to learn to walk again and eventually move and function normally. Any of the pieces of music on that album still affect me in that same way as if they’re deeply programmed in my cells and being.

I had been practicing daily meditation since 1980, but added yoga the year they removed the tumor. While exploring and looking for new music, I found Zoe Keating! Wow! The album I discovered was One Cello X 16: Natoma. This was a new sound and genre for me, and it moved me in ways I couldn’t imagine. One piece in particular was even more impactful than the rest, Sun Will Set. It’s 7 minutes long, with layers of looping Zoe playing her cello and shaking me to my core. After my yoga practice every day, I would put on Sun Will Set and learn how to move.

Moving became a slow dance. Slow dance became melodic. This was a daily practice for about a year as my body learned how to balance, move, and flow. My muscles became stronger and more flexible, and I could feel my bones becoming less brittle and more solid. I was gaining confidence in my body’s ability to stay safe and strong. My body was coming back to life with one 7-minute practice a day to Zoe Keating and her magic cello. I had the opportunity to see her live this past year. Afterwards, she held a talkback and invited questions and comments. I shared my experience of her music and Sun Will Set. She came right over to me, hugged me, and held me for several minutes while the rest of the audience watched.

If you’ve not heard of or experienced any of these three albums or artists, I invite you to do so. And if you do, please close your eyes and listen to your body and spirit as they rise and move.

Sometimes, when I’m DJing a conscious or ecstatic dance event, I include at least one of these pieces at the beginning or end of the set. All three of them are part of who I am today and why.

Music can be magic and healing in so many ways. Sometimes it’s a beat, a chorus, a rhythm, or a melody. And other times it’s just the right sound at the right moment that stays with us through our lives.

Thank you for reading about my experiences of these three albums and the artists that created them.

—

This post was previously published on Michael Swerdloff’s blog.

***