A love letter to music that moves upward

Up is divine. For over a thousand years, a typical Catholic Mass has included the singing of a hymn titled “Glory to God in the Highest.” Priests and preachers sometimes deliver sermons from the pulpit, which is a platform that elevates them above the congregation. In medieval and Renaissance art, very holy people, like saints, tend to be drawn higher on the canvas. Even in religions that lack deities in the Christian sense, terms like karma and enlightenment are associated with high and low positions. Good deeds in this life lead to reincarnation as a higher being, perhaps as a demigod, whereas bad deeds result in reincarnation as a lower being, like an animal. And in many religions, it’s common to build temples or monasteries that reach high into the sky, drawing the eyes upward.

Relatedly, in many religious traditions, morality is associated with divinity or holiness. Not coincidentally, we use upward and downward metaphors to describe morality itself. If someone “takes the high road” during an argument, they demonstrate morality through restraint. If you feel like someone is acting arrogantly, you might tell them to get off their “high horse.” A virtuous person is an upstanding citizen. A “fall from grace” assumes a high place from which to fall. And the opposite association also exists: “I would never stoop to their level.”

(Tiny detour: theories of grounded cognition suggest that we understand abstract concepts like divinity, status, and love in concrete, physical terms. So, for instance, people are faster to recognize words related to divinity when those words are placed higher on a screen.)

If things that are “up” or “high” capture a hint of the divine, it could explain why dance music feels uplifting to so many people. There are many ways to create this feeling. One of the central qualities of an instrument is the frequency range its sounds occupy: a flute emits high-frequency sounds, and a trombone or bass guitar emits low-frequency sounds. So for instance, perhaps high frequency sounds are experienced as physically higher in the mix. A savvy producer could therefore add high frequency instruments or introduce a key change that lifts the whole song. Especially when high frequency instruments are revealed later in the song, complementing lower tones, the listener experiences a rising feeling; they are drawn upward, out of the ordinary, to witness a sliver of something beautiful. However the upward motion occurs, it echoes something sacred.

This matters deeply to me because I believe that we all desire something that is not of this world. No matter how beautiful my wife is, or how many friends I have, or how tailored my suits are; no matter how much I work on myself (#selfimprovement) or how much I work on not working on myself (#selfacceptance), there will always be a part of me that feels incomplete. That yearning is what Christians would call a God-shaped hole. St. Augustine said it best: “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.”

Art can imitate that impossible feeling. I’ve found that some electronic dance music reflects the divine, however dimly, and I want to share that feeling with you. I’ve tried to explain for years why songs with minimal lyrics but soaring synthesizers can feel so powerful; now I finally have a framework for it. The following songs all have qualities that produce a feeling of upward movement. A special feeling is here, in this art, in a tiny way.

Harmonic Voltage by Animusic

If there’s one song you should listen to, it’s this one. I was in fifth grade math class when I was first blessed by electronic music. Mr. Lehmann let us watch Animusic on days towards the end of the semester, when we had to be in school but there wasn’t enough time to teach a whole unit.

Animusic became popular because something about it resonated with people. I think Wayne Little’s animations gave embodiment to synthesizer sounds people had heard for decades. It’s like he completed a puzzle, and it was richly satisfying to watch.

In Harmonic Voltage specifically, the undertones of divinity are hard to miss. The synthesizer blobs swing upward and downward, the key change at 5:13 lifts up the whole arrangement, and the spotlights shine upward during the final chorus, as if searching for God.

Omen by Disclosure (feat. Sam Smith)

One of my favorite songs of all time. The lush extended chords create a sense of mystery and suspense throughout; I think the diminished chord at 2:09, which hangs in the air forever, is the single most dramatic chord in electronic music. The hi-hats add a high-energy hiss to the final chorus. The Jungian symbolism in the lyrics is fascinating. But what really makes this song is the bass line. I eventually noticed a cool bass line that bounces upward from 2:29 to 2:34 leading into the final chorus. See if you can pick it up. This little sequence fulfills the prophecy from 1:12 to 1:16, when the bass makes a similar movement but doesn’t fully resolve. The ascending motion of the bass blows the roof open heading into the final chorus.

Cold Water by Major Lazer (Ocular Remix)

I felt like this song had transcendent qualities for a while, but I didn’t know why. I still don’t think I understand it fully, because the chord stabs are woven into the mix in a way that makes it hard for me to pull apart, but after recreating the bass line, I have a lead. The bass line in the chorus is the same for most of the song. It sounds like this:

But a few things change in the final chorus (3:54), including the bass line, which now sounds like this:

It might not seem like a big difference, but at least to me, that E note at 3:56 reaches to the heavens.

Getting There From Here (with Todd Edwards) (Miami Horror & Lazywax Remix)

When I heard the climactic sequence of this jam, I told a friend it was God’s favorite song. Five years later, I think this may still be accurate. Lazywax has a way of slowly building epic, funky drops. The dancing arpeggio at 4:17 is exquisite.

Return Credits by Amtrac

The beginning of the song kinda stinks. It’s dreary and pessimistic. But somehow Amtrac takes it and flips it around entirely starting around 1:36. The second half is heavenly; it feels like it’s continuously going higher.

Midnight City by M83

I think everyone knows this classic, but I have to list it anyway. The saxophone at the end soars above huge synths.

Up All Night by Beck (Oliver Remix)

The synthesizer at 3:46 belongs in a museum.

Grit by Amtrac and the Juan Maclean

The song I listen to at the end of a hard workout. The bass plays the same note for over two minutes straight. It becomes hypnotic. Then it vanishes abruptly, mysteriously, as if saving energy for an impending battle. It returns around 3:43, but now it’s dancing. The cymbals announce one final push at 4:31, and the bass line reaches new heights. The song kinda drops off for me after five minutes, but that’s okay because the first five minutes are glorious.