It's been a long while since I listened to an album without doing something else at the same time. Just sitting, doing nothing but listening.
After driving for eight hours, I was tired. I didn't want to take a nap. So I lay down on the bed, drew the blinds, switched off the lights, and wanted to simply relax.
While browsing Spotify, I realised I hadn’t listened to Kate Rusby’s latest album, When They All Looked Up, since it came out. I hit play and closed my eyes, letting the Barnsley Nightingale sing me into stillness.
Today Again reminded me why I started listening to her. I got the same goosebumps as when I first heard her sing. That song felt especially personal—a balm for my tired, restless soul. And when Let Your Light Shine played, I felt strangely at peace with everything.
I realised that while music has always been a constant background in my life, it’s been years since I simply sat down to listen—really listen—to an album.
As I trundled through my memories trying to think of any recent times that I listened to music for the sake of listening, I was bereft of any such memories. The only instance I could think of was listening to James Blunt whenever I have a headache; it seems to alleviate the pain though I'm not sure why.
When did I become too busy to spend an hour doing nothing but listen?