Today (21st June) is World Music Day – a time when across the globe, communities gather to celebrate the universal language of melody, rhythm, and song. When radio stations take advantage of the day to entice us to listen more and when a plethora of local events celebrate the day.
I have been an avid listener to so much music since my earliest childhood days when like so many of us the music our parents listened to shape our eardrums and taste. For me it was a mixture of Gaelic song filtered by Jim Reeves, Elvis, the Beatles and Johnny Cash. Then with the maturity of age the eclectic mix of Crowded House, Abba, Runrig and my source of all inspiration to this day Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. Our music shapes, moulds, inspires and conditions us.
So, as I reflect of World Music Day, I do indeed think of all the gigs and events I have been lucky enough to attend but I also think of the less grand and quieter, more intimate spaces where music has exerted its power over me, from my family front room to student flats and outside buskers.
But over the last few years in particular I have grown to appreciate the tremendous power of music in places and spaces which are even more hidden and quieter than the usual performance venues we might be familiar with, in our care homes, in hospital wards, in the living rooms of those living with frailty, dementia, and decline. It is here, often behind closed doors, that the true miracle of music quietly unfolds.
For older people, music is not merely entertainment. It is connection. It is comfort. It is continuity of self. It is therapy. In these spaces, music is a vessel that carries the individual across the sometimes-frightening gaps carved by time, illness and memory loss.
As a young parent I was acutely aware of the work of music psychologists in terms of early brain formation, and you only have to look at the music catalogues to see the downloads from Bach for Babies to Mozart for Toddlers. It has taken us a bit longer to validate the significant role that music plays for older people care and support.
Modern research has increasingly begun to validate what many carers and families have long intuited: music accesses parts of the brain often untouched by disease. The pioneering work of neuroscientists such as Oliver Sacks, and more recently the international consortiums studying music and dementia, show us that the neural pathways involved in music processing – particularly rhythm and melody – are uniquely resilient, often remaining intact even as cognitive faculties decline.
In functional MRI studies, regions such as the medial prefrontal cortex – areas tied to autobiographical memory and emotional regulation – show sustained activity when individuals listen to personally meaningful music, even in advanced stages of dementia. In one striking study published over a decade ago in 2015, researchers observed that musical memory can remain accessible even when other forms of memory are lost, offering individuals a bridge to their sense of self.
Music appears to activate broad networks of the brain simultaneously: motor areas, language centres, limbic regions responsible for emotion, and – perhaps most importantly – the default mode network linked to self-awareness. It is no wonder that, in so many cases, individuals who struggle to recognise loved ones can nevertheless sing along, note-perfect, to the songs of their youth.
I have to confess that in not a few places I have argued that it is important that we recognise the sheer value in people being entertained and in taking enjoyment from sound and music. I also believe it is critical that we also recognise the profound benefits which can be gained by people at any age in life participating in and creating music. Life should not just be about passive receipt of the creativity of others but a participation in self-expression and creative musicality. But be that as it is , I sometimes feel we lose sight of the sheer therapeutic value of music and musicality, and do so at our cost.
Beyond the astonishing resilience of musical memory, a growing body of research has documented the tangible benefits of music-based interventions for older people.
Randomised controlled trials have consistently shown that music therapy can reduce symptoms of anxiety and depression in older adults, particularly those living in long-term care settings. The act of listening to, or creating, music stimulates dopamine release, contributing to improved mood and wellbeing.
In dementia care, personalised music playlists have been shown to reduce agitation, restlessness, and the use of antipsychotic medications – a profoundly important finding in light of concerns over overmedication in care.
Even more so whilst music cannot reverse cognitive decline, engaging with music – whether through singing, drumming, or listening – provides meaningful cognitive stimulation, maintaining attention, language, and even aspects of executive function.
And perhaps most importantly, music offers a shared space for relationship, for communication beyond words. It creates opportunities for care staff, families, and care home residents to connect on a deeply human level.
Of course, not all music is created equal. The most effective musical interventions are not generic playlists of “golden oldies”, but carefully curated selections rooted in the personal histories and preferences of each individual. The song that stirred a heart in 1955 may not be the same as the one cherished in 1975. That is why the amazing work of Playlist for Life deserves every bit of focus and support.
In this sense, music care becomes an act of human rights-based care – one which honours the individuality, autonomy, and lived history of the person. We must resist the temptation to treat older people as a homogeneous category and instead engage in the work of listening to their life stories, through and alongside their musical tastes. I have no doubt a lot of my story is tied into by walking alongside Springsteen whilst others would run a mile from that journey !
If we are serious about reimagining care and support in Scotland and across the UK, then music should not be seen as an “add-on” or a luxury, but as an essential part of care practice. It has been easier to argue that point and case for residential care, it has been well-nigh impossible to convince commissioners and financiers of the value and merit in prescribing music and its therapeutic use in care at home. Yet, if the benefits of music not least as a preventative tool for decline and deterioration – are true of residential care then that truth sings even louder in someone’s own home. It is not fanciful or naïve to argue that we should have music as a core part of relational, time-flexible, person-led homecare. This is surely the heart of social prescribing?
We need greater investment in training care staff to use music therapeutically; partnerships between care homes and professional musicians; research funding to deepen our scientific understanding; and national policy that recognises the centrality of the arts to wellbeing across the life course.
In the end, music reminds us that identity endures even as so much falls away. The rhythm of a waltz, the swell of a hymn, the first few bars of a favourite song – these can bring a spark of recognition, a light behind the eyes, a squeeze of the hand.
And that is why, on this World Music Day, I find myself filled not only with gratitude for the gift of music, but with a renewed sense of responsibility. To ensure that every older person, regardless of circumstance, has the right to their song. The right to be heard. The right to be remembered.
Because, in the words of the late neurologist Oliver Sacks:
“Music can lift us out of depression or move us to tears – it is a remedy, a tonic, an orange juice for the ear. But for many of my neurological patients, music is even more – it can provide access, even when no medication can, to movement, to speech, to life. For them, music is not a luxury, but a necessity.”
I will give the last word to The Boss, who speaks of the power of music in “No Surrender” (from the Born in the U.S.A. album, 1984):
“We learned more from a three-minute record, baby, than we ever learned in school.”
This line beautifully captures how deeply music can shape identity, inspire action, and teach us about life- often more powerfully than traditional education. It’s one of Springsteen’s most quoted reflections on the transformative force of rock and roll. And for those whose sounds are different – all music changes our worlds if we allow ourselves to hear.
Donald Macaskill
Photo by Marius Masalar on Unsplash
