Twists and Rage...Music as a Regulation Tool

Here’s a confession: I feel a lot of feelings. When I was a teen, I used to love blasting music in my room while I jumped around, crashing into walls, my bed, and knocking things over. I would put on Twisted Sister and just not take it anymore! There was a part of me that needed to express all the things happening inside of me, non-verbally. I spoke with my body. Dancing became an expression of my emotions. I didn't always have words to describe how I was feeling, and music became my words. And because of that, I love music and live shows!

When I say I love music, I don’t mean “Oh, I like having it on in the background while I make dinner.” I mean: I have playlists for every emotion I’ve ever had (and some I haven’t even fully identified yet). Music is often my expression of how I am feeling. There’s something magical about certain songs, especially the ones that make you want to kick a wall down. Enter: Twisted Sister and Rage Against the Machine. There is a huge part of me that is the "fuck you, I won't do what you tell me" part. 🖕The part that honors the articulation of the emotions I am feeling. Most environments were not designed for me or my brain. When the world feels like a mess and I’m spiraling into existential dread about late-stage capitalism or climate collapse or the current political landscape, I crank up Rage. It helps. It doesn’t fix everything, but it makes me feel connected instead of alone. Screaming along to “Killing in the Name” is a form of nervous system regulation. (And honestly, who's to say it’s not?)

But I don’t just listen to rage music. Sometimes I need instrumental sounds to calm my system, or deep bass that I can feel more than hear. Sometimes it’s hip-hop, ‘90s grunge, indie folk, and sometimes it’s the experimental stuff that no algorithm understands. Music lets me shift gears when my brain won’t. It gives my body something to sync up with. It lets me move emotion instead of drowning in it.

Live shows are one of my absolute favorite things in life—but they’re also… complicated. I love standing next to the speakers and feeling the bass rattle my bones (hello, sensory joy!). I love being in the middle of a crowd that’s jumping and yelling together like one giant, sweaty heartbeat. It’s loud, chaotic, and somehow the most regulating thing for me. But on the real, I do not love the intermissions. That cacophony of background music plus everyone trying to talk over it? My brain is not having that. My nervous system gets spiky, and I feel nauseous and like I cannot move. I also don't like change, so I find it hard to leave my spot, especially if I am close to the stage and speakers. I sort of plant myself at shows. I make sure I bring earplugs and often cover my ears with my hands. Once the band comes back on? I’m back and ready. It is wild how the first bass drop can instantly regulate my system.

Growing up, I didn't feel like I fit in. I was the "weird" kid with big feelings, too many opinions, and a brain that never wanted to do things the “normal” way. Music made me feel less alone in that. It gave me community even when it was just me, headphones, and a song that understood me better than most people ever had. So yeah, I’m that person who jumps around at concerts, makes eye contact with strangers during the bridge of a song, and has strong opinions about the correct order of a playlist. Music is more than a hobby for me. It’s how I stay connected to myself, the world, and to something bigger. It’s protest and play. It’s therapy and thrill. It's a vibe.

If you ever wonder what keeps me going when things get hard, the answer is probably: music. LOUD music.

Sincerely,

Dre