Music, Musicians, and the Mystery of Universality

Like language, music is a human universal. It consists of perceptually distinct elements arranged in hierarchically structured sequences according to syntactic principles. In simpler terms, both music and language are governed by rules—rhythms, harmonies, or grammar—that shape how we experience and make meaning of them.

A study published in Current Biology (ScienceDaily, March 20, 2009) offers striking evidence of music’s universality. The research found that native African individuals—many of whom had never even listened to the foreign radio—could still accurately recognize happy, sad, and fearful emotions in Western music. This suggests that fundamental emotional expressions through music transcend culture and geography. In other words, what is played in one part of the world can carry meaning in another.

There is, indeed, a deep and intricate relationship between language and music. Recent findings from Georgetown University Medical Center—published in the journal NeuroImage—further affirm this connection. Researchers discovered that both music and language are processed by overlapping brain systems. Specifically, the temporal lobes support our ability to memorize information such as words and melodies, while the frontal lobes govern our unconscious understanding of rules—like syntax in sentences or harmony in music.

This neurological overlap underscores a critical point: learning a language without understanding the culture it’s rooted in is like learning hollow symbols. And one of the richest expressions of culture is music.

Music, some say, is even deeper than spoken language—it is the universal language. Some go further, calling it the purest form of self-expression. It transcends borders, races, and linguistic structures—be they Latin, Semitic, Cushitic, or otherwise.

But if music is universal, can we also say that musicians themselves are universal?

This reflection leads us to examine two iconic figures: Ethiopia’s own Tilahun Gessesse and the global pop legend Michael Jackson. Despite coming from vastly different cultural and geographic backgrounds, the parallels in their lives and legacies are striking.

Both began singing at a young age. Both had careers that spanned over three to five decades, producing No. 1 hits in their respective contexts. Both are remembered for their contributions during the Ethiopian famine in the 1980s: Tilahun with his heart-wrenching ballad “Way Way Silu” (“When they utter trickling lamentations”), and Michael, alongside a global cast of artists, with “We Are the World”, a powerful anthem of solidarity and compassion.

Even more remarkably, both were intensely preparing for major comeback performances just before their deaths—aspiring, once again, to leave audiences in awe. Both died in the same year, from what was reported as probable cardiac failure.

Coincidence? Fate? Or perhaps a testament that like music, musicians too can be universal—not because they are identical, but because their messages resonate beyond language, beyond culture, beyond place.

This sentiment was once echoed in a humble doggerel written by a fan from a neighboring country, only mildly familiar with the Amharic language. Wanting to honor Tilahun’s unmatched talent, he penned:

Awroplan hedə, Ϊyə gəsəgəsə,
Kə zəfaňoch andəňa T’Ϊlahun Gəsəsə.

Roughly translated:
“The airplane has swiftly gone;
Among the musicians, Tilahun Gessesse stands number one.”

Though the metaphor of the airplane and the ranking may seem disconnected, the spirit is unmistakable—a tribute that crossed linguistic boundaries to celebrate artistry. It drew chuckles from literary critics, but admiration from all who understood the fan's intention.

Michael Jackson’s legacy, too, exemplifies this boundary-defying power of music. His work moved millions, regardless of language, race, or nationality.

So, if music speaks to us all, can we not say that some musicians speak for us all?

Something to ponder.

Məlkam samΪnt! → Have a good week!