More often than not, I underestimate the power of music. Inadvertently shove all meaning and emotional ties to the back of my mind. Seldom do I sit and just listen. Music: it is every cliche that has ever been said about it, and isn’t that the point of a cliche? Only the truth is what makes cliches so. Music is everything: our background noise in busy coffee shops, our comfort on our early morning work commute. The soundtrack to the happiest moments and the dull drone in moments of despair. It’s always somehow there. But how often do we just listen?