The Soundscape of Grief

Grief has a soundscape.

It moves through us like music - shifting, layering, softening, distorting - sometimes barely audible, sometimes all-consuming.

For me, the soundscape of grief has changed with time.

In the early days, it was Numb Little Bug. The lyrics captured that strange contradiction of feeling both overwhelmed and numb. It gave sound to the quiet fog I was walking through - the disconnect between what I was “supposed” to feel and what I actually could.

Then came You Are the Reason. That longing to turn back time, to find the light again -

“If I could turn back the clock, I’d make sure the light defeated the dark.”

It held that ache of wishing for what can’t be undone.

Later, the song that stayed with me was Nobody Sees by Powderfinger. There was something about the honesty of it - the loneliness, the sense of being unseen in your pain even when surrounded by people. It reflected that stage where grief becomes less visible to the outside world, but still lives loudly within you.

Then came What It Sounds Like from Kpop Demon Hunters - a gentler rhythm, a sense of acceptance. The grief was still there, but the edges had softened. It became less about surviving and more about learning to live with the sound of it.

And now, Beyond from the Moana 2 soundtrack has become the song that finds me. There’s something about it - the pull toward what’s unknown, the courage to keep moving forward even when you can’t see the whole path. It feels like grief when it begins to stretch into something larger - when you start to carry both love and loss, and sense that the journey continues, even beyond what you once knew.

Each song has been a reflection of where I was at the time - a mirror for emotions too tangled to name. Music has that power: to articulate what words can’t, to give rhythm to our pain, and to remind us we’re not alone in it.

Sometimes, when words fail, a song can say everything.

Maybe we should normalise answering “How are you going?” with a song.

Because sometimes melody tells the truth our mouths can’t form yet.

So I’m curious - what’s been the soundtrack of your grief?

Which songs have held you, cracked you open, or reminded you that you’re still here?