What happens when we truly listen?
In a world that constantly bombards us with sound – machines humming, conversations overlapping, music leaking from headphones – we rarely stop to engage with sound in its rawest, most intimate form. But when we do, we find that music isn’t only in the notes produced. It is in the silences, the spaces between, the resonance of a moment. That’s the journey I invite you to take with this Hey Jukebox! playlist.
4’33” by John Cage
It begins, quite fittingly, with 4’33” by John Cage, a piece I’ve always found deeply powerful. With no notes played, the music becomes everything around us: shifting chairs, breathing, distant footsteps, your own internal rhythm. Cage isn’t presenting silence – he is offering a different way to hear the world. It’s an invitation to listen without expectation.
This kind of deep listening – listening with the whole body – is at the heart of everything I do. I often perform barefoot to feel the vibrations through the floor. I engage with sound as something tactile, something that lives not just in the ears but in the bones, the skin. Physically feeling sound extends my awareness and experience.
Challenging convention
That same idea pulses through pieces like Never Having Written a Note for Percussion by James Tenney or Shadow Behind the Iron Sun, one of my own experimental explorations. These works challenge conventional ideas of how we define music and the implements used to create it. These pieces ask us for our patience and to pay attention not just to what is played, but to what is felt.
Journeys through sound
What I love about this playlist is its incredible range. It’s not about genre, but about sensation and story. You will find yourself moving from the meditative stillness of Arvo Pärt’s Spiegel im Spiegel to the relentless momentum of Short Ride in a Fast Machine by John Adams. From the haunting delicacy of The Lark Ascending to the raw energy of Rat Salad by Black Sabbath. From the elemental flow of water as percussion in Tan Dun’s Water Concerto, to the fresh textures of Caliban’s Dream by Underworld.
Each track reveals a different facet of what music can be. This is not just a playlist, it is a landscape of listening.
Evelyn Glennie Foundation
At The Evelyn Glennie Foundation, we believe that everyone deserves access to that landscape. Music should be open to all, regardless of background, ability or experience. It’s a universal language, shaped by diversity and enriched by difference. Whether it’s a ragtime xylophone solo, a piobaireachd echoing across the Highlands, or the cosmic sweep of Holst’s The Planets, each sound is a voice worth experiencing.
I encourage you to approach this playlist not just with your ears, but with your full attention, knowing that your body is like a huge ear or resonator. Make time. Create space. Let the unfamiliar challenge you. Let silence surprise you. And allow the sounds -old, new, strange, beautiful – to wash over you in a way that feels utterly personal.
When we listen deeply, we’re not just hearing music; we’re connecting more fully to the world, and to each other.
Hey Jukebox
Listen to a playlist of the songs discussed in this blog on Spotify, or in the Museum on Tuesday afternoons from 2.30pm.