Margarida Baltazar still remembers the first time she realized music could make her cry and smile at once—a song from her childhood, both joyful and aching, played at her grandmother’s funeral. That duality, she now knows, is not rare. As a researcher at the University of Jyväskylä’s Centre of Excellence in Music, Mind, Body and Brain, Baltazar led a groundbreaking study that reveals how deeply personal and emotionally complex our musical experiences truly are. Drawing from responses of 2,137 participants across 84 countries, the research uncovers that when music matters, it rarely makes us feel just one thing.
For decades, studies on music and emotion have relied on simplified models—happy songs spark joy, sad songs bring sorrow. But real listening is messier. Baltazar and her colleagues, Iballa Burunat and Suvi Saarikallio, wanted to capture that complexity. They asked participants to name a song that held personal meaning and then rate the intensity of both positive emotions—like love, happiness, and relaxation—and negative ones—such as sadness, pain, and loneliness. The results shattered the myth of musical emotional purity: meaningful music routinely evokes mixed feelings, a bittersweet blend that reflects the richness of human experience.
The study found that how we use music shapes what we feel. People who listen to music to express identity, relive memories, or fully immerse in emotional experience are far more likely to feel both joy and sorrow simultaneously. One 24-year-old from Brazil reported crying to a samba song that reminded her of her late father, yet feeling “wrapped in warmth” by its rhythm. In contrast, those who use music to regulate mood—like calming anxiety or distracting from stress—tend to experience fewer mixed emotions. The research also revealed generational and cultural patterns: younger listeners, emotionally sensitive individuals, and those who value independence and achievement were more prone to emotional complexity. These traits often align with cultures that emphasize personal goals and self-expression, suggesting that where we come from shapes how we feel a melody.
The implications stretch beyond psychology into how we understand healing, connection, and identity. Music isn’t just background noise or emotional therapy—it’s a mirror of who we are and what we’ve lived through. As Baltazar notes, a single song can carry the weight of a lifetime, holding grief and gratitude in the same breath.
Looking ahead, the team hopes to dissect the musical ingredients behind these layered emotions—lyrics, timbre, mode, and memory—to understand how a minor chord or a familiar voice can unlock such profound duality. In a world that often demands emotional simplicity, this research reminds us that it’s okay to feel more than one thing at once—especially when the right song comes on.