This blog is about a moment when I was out walking – hobbling – in Brighton and suddenly everything changed; for the next hour or so I walked pain-free and without a care! It happened on a day when I had been walking with particular difficulty and had begun to ask myself if I was becoming a burden to others – not a nice feeling!

My walking has changed as I have grown older. First, ageing has slowed me down, I keep forgetting to walk fast! Second, as well as the simple effects of my age, I often need to walk slowly and carefully to minimise the hurt felt in my legs. My pains come and go over periods that can last months and during the last few years these episodes have become increasingly common. Indeed, for most of the last eight months, pains have arisen each day with troubles in one or other of my knees, my right ankle or my right hip. Luckily, as I write, these symptoms are on the wane. 

When problems arise, the biggest hurt occurs when I climb steps or get up from a chair. Compared to these manoeuvres, walking on the flat is easy, and provided I walk slowly and don’t go too far, the problems are easily contained. I simply walk at my own pace, giving myself enough time to reach my destination without being late. Difficulties do arise, however, when I am out with others and I can’t keep up. Quite often everyone else walks on ahead turning round to see where I am and, if needs be, waiting for me to catch up. 

What happened in Brighton came as a complete surprise and with it came new insights, new reflections. I was walking slowly and in some pain. Odd though it may seem, each step had become a conscious effort. As a group, we were walking through a local park and I could just make out the ‘Snowman’ song – ‘We are walking in the air’ – being played some way ahead on an electric keyboard. Soon my hunch was confirmed; Stefan the busker (see illustration) was entertaining passers-by with an albeit rather mechanical version of a song I like greatly. As I have a soft spot for ‘musician buskers’, when we finally arrived at his pitch I put a pound in his ‘Thank you’ hat.

Then I had an idea – if I gave him more, would he play me some boogie-woogie? I just love the beat of this genre. He agreed and I added a further pound. After a long pause and with a big smile the ‘Snowman’ was stopped and the rhythm changed. First came a few chords and some exploratory twiddles with his left hand then off he went improvising with appropriate boogie gusto, and the effect on me was extraordinary. As the tune built up I couldn’t stop swaying and moving my feet to the rhythm. Whether he had calculated the rate that I could manage I cannot know but soon I was to all intents and purposes dancing, and with no pain; I was actually ‘dancing’ my way up a slight hill to my friends! Magically the pains and the worries had gone. All the hesitation that once dominated each step was lifted by his music and my new freedom lasted a good hour. 

What had happened defies explanation. His tune with its heavy beat entered my brain, numbed my pains, abolished my anxiety and set me off dancing freely – indeed I was in no position to stop – I had been truly galvanised. I know that music helps people with Parkinson’s disease to walk and people with Alzheimer’ disease who are otherwise mute to sing along, but how it works is beyond me. As a student and teacher of medicine, I learned how the body works with subjects that included neurology, anatomy, physiology, pharmacology and psychiatry but there was nothing in all this, nor in what I have since learned, that has given me insight into a possible mechanism. Stefan’s music that day had an extraordinary effect but how it worked remains a mystery and a nice one at that!

The illustration is a photo of Stefan playing his keyboard in the Royal Pavilion Gardens in Brighton on his designated busking pitch.

For helping me write this blog, I would like to thank Harold, Peter, Stefan, Rohan and Vivien.

16 thoughts on “Stefan the Galvaniser”

  1. Dear Joe,

    I write in complete sympathy- walking has become more difficult for me-especially going down steps! Great that the music made such a difference- I’ll have to try it!

    Love

    Robin

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  3. Dear Joe,

    It sounds like you’ve discovered the magical power of music and dancing! I know a lady who used to come to her dance class with a zimmer frame, but this didn’t stop her from dancing the whole evening!

    Bien amicalement,

    Thierry

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  4. Dear Joe: What a lovely piece; thank you. My favourites in your writings are the ones where you, a student and teacher of medicine, end up bedazzled – and neither doubting nor really understanding the magic that overtook you. You sleeping so soundly after stuffing lavender bags for Rohan was one classic, and this is surely another. This jaw-dropping genre needs maybe a Latin name – and then perhaps a monthly column in The Lancet or BMJ. I’d like to think that the response from your colleagues would be as fascinating as enlightening, and that you’d be inundated. Why not put a toe in the water, with a one-off ‘pilot’ piece?

    Charles x

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  5. Dear Charles, How very nice to hear from you and thank you for your kind remarks and observations. What a task it would be to get the BMJ to do anything! Love, Joe

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  6. Dear Joe, this made me feel quite emotional and evokes memories of my mum who lost her speech but able to sing irish lullabies; babies who are both soothed and energised by song and swaying. The wonderful power of what connects us as humans. Thank you!

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    1. Dear Jackie, Thank you so much for your comments. You are right, there is something rather special about music (and singing), and it is all rather mysterious. Love,Joe

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  7. Dear Joe,

    A fascinating and mysterious read. This sent me to a 1963 review in the Richmond and Twickenham Times by Barry May (later Chairman of the Richmond Society). This centred on the debut residency of the then unknown Rolling Stones at the Crawdaddy Club in Richmond. The review describes how “..the deep, earthy sound gives all who hear it an irresistible urge to stand up and move.”

    The nascent British rhythm and blues music scene might not have featured your much loved boogie-woogie but the primeval beat goes on.

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  9. Dear Joe,

    Your gift for making connections with people is quite extraordinary. Thank you for sharing this experience with us – and long may the music that Stefan makes continue to help other people. As you say, strange and mysterious but very real. I hope the music echoes in your head to help ease your own aches and pains – I wonder if the memories of the melodies have the same effect?

    Love,

    JJ XX

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    1. Dear JJ, Thank you for your comments.I can’t get the full boogie-woogie rhythm in my head. I have started to walk when whistling and that might well work. Since publishing the blog my joints have improved greatly! Love, Joe

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