I remember when Spotify tossed Holst’s “The Planets” into my daily mix last month. Had zero clue who he was, honestly. Thought it’d be fancy background noise while scrubbing pans. That Mars movement started vibrating my kitchen sink – like actual goosebumps on my soapy hands. Dried off immediately, sat on the floor, and played the whole suite.
Step 1: Just Press Play Without Pressure
First thing I did? Turned off my brain’s “appreciation mode.” No history lessons, no composer bios. Just blasted The Planets through dollar-store earbuds during dog walks. Noticed how Jupiter’s melody made my terrier prance like he’s in a parade. Mercury’s quick notes matched my caffeine jitters on Monday mornings. Felt the music instead of analyzing it.
Step 2: One Handful of Strawberries
Tried eating strawberries while Venus played. Sounds stupid, but seriously – try this. Closed my eyes, bit into one berry, and suddenly those harp plinks sounded like juice bursting. Made me realize Holst paints scenes with instruments. Swore I tasted brass during Saturn’s heavy parts later.
Step 3: Bad Air-Con Singalong
Got gutsy one humid night. Stood wobbling on a stool, conducting my wheezing air conditioner with a chopstick. Faked swooshes during Uranus’ magical parts, then hammered imaginary gongs for Neptune’s choir. Landlord banged the ceiling when I yelled “CELESTIAL BANGER!” but zero regrets. Physical movement locks the themes in your bones.
What Actually Clicked
Three weeks in, Holst made sense without textbooks. His stuff works because:
- He’s not trying to impress orchestra snobs – it’s vibe-first music
- Every planet’s got a personality (Mars = army tanks, Venus = silk pajamas)
- You recognize bits everywhere – from Star Wars to TikTok memes
Now I play Saturn when traffic’s terrible. Turns road rage into slow-mo drama. Still butcher the composer’s name though (“Holst? Like malted milkshakes?”). Doesn’t matter. Appreciation’s just fancy talk for “makes my laundry folding less boring.”
