Have you ever wondered what people listen to when undergoing MDMA-assisted therapy? I’m guessing you probably haven’t. If you have, then wow… what an inquisitive mind you have.
But maybe you aren’t even aware how MDMA-trials work. I’ll tell you.
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A short while ago, VICE interviewed Petra Skeffington, an Associate Professor of Psychology at Perth’s Murdoch University, who’s currently one of the researchers behind Australia’s first MDMA-Assisted therapy trial.
To keep it short, in the study, patients with severe PTSD symptoms undergo three cycles of preparation sessions before participating in dosing days.
They’re admitted to hospital and given eye shades, headphones, a specified playlist and a dose of MDMA. They’ll stay there for 8-hours, internally and sometimes externally (by interacting with their therapists), going over and restructuring their trauma. The next day the psychologist will return to talk about it.
It’s important to note here that most patients are not having an enjoyable experience throughout this process. The MDMA is just subtle enough so that people are legitimately participating in the therapy. There are NO dance parties.
That aside, the music is an important part of the session – it often activates neural networks in the brain involved in arousal, and, in general, enhances the experience.
But what are those songs? And what are those playlists?
“We use the MAPS MDMA playlist that is available on Spotify,” Skeffington told VICE.
“We have made some minor modifications since we started (mostly removing songs that didn’t sit well), but I can’t remember the specifics of what we have taken out. There are lots of psilocybin playlists on Spotify, as well. Each research group has been fairly open in sharing their music resources.”
Music, according to Skeffington, is deliberated over extensively within psychedelic therapy teams, with the general preference being music without lyrics. They also avoid music that participants are familiar with, as they may already have strong emotional associations with it.
“There is an energy arc to follow the session, where we start out relatively calm (as the participant settles in), and then choose longer tracks with a range of intensity throughout.”
These playlists, have been duplicated and added to numerous times by other Spotify users. It’s really about the patient’s preference, but that’s less prevalent in Australian studies at present.
“For future studies, I would like to see a range of music offered so that participants have a choice. For example, some participants may prefer a classical music list while others may prefer something new age,” said Skeffington.
As I perused the spotify playlist that Skeffington pointed us to I had a thought: Why not review a few for you? Why not give you the low down? So I put it on shuffle and picked the first five.
Hans Zimmer – Reunion (2 out of 5)
Think about it. You’re lying in a hospital bed, the scratchy linen sheets weighing you down as you sit in darkness: eyeshades blinding you, headphones covering your ears, the subtle dose of MDMA tingling your brain cells. You’re probably not feeling…so good.
Then, bam, a song from Gladiator comes on.
I have no idea what part of the movie the song “Reunion” soundtracks but when I tried to Youtube it, it sounded eerily similar to the one that plays when Maximus dies. Good vibes? I think not. Maybe that’s not the point, though. Maybe there’s some value to soundtracking a personal ego death with a strung out guitar and a woman’s moaning vocals edging you there.
Hans Zimmer, Gavin Greenway – The Lagoon (3.5 out of 5)
Okay, another one from Hans Zimmer. This time from the 1998 epic war film The Thin Red Line. I haven’t watched this one. To be honest, I have war movie–fatigue, but, honestly, the song is kind of a vibe.
A tubular bell of some kind introduces the track with the slow, voluminous ascent of Monk-like/ Gregorian chants. At about 1:30 minutes, it gets dark and otherworldly until alien-esque synths bring in a kind of hopeful string section. It ends feeling nostalgic, or like there’s been a sudden realisation. I like it. I can imagine the stomach swelling as the intensity of the MDMA hits.
Afro Celt Soundsystem – Colossus (0.5 out of 5)
No, just, no. Please god.
I actually do like some of the music this band(?) produces (as the name insinuates it’s a mix between afro and celtic influences) but surely this would be wrong place, wrong time?
Vangelis – Deliverance (1 out of 5)
This sounds like a song off one of those bad compilation CDs your parents used to own. A mix between a rhythmic flamenco guitar, strange unearthly synths and that Hans Zimmer-type horn sound (that he uses in every fucking movie). It feels confused. I don’t like it. I don’t want to listen to this, ever. Oh, also this is from a Ridley Scott movie, 1492: Conquest of Paradise. That makes more sense.
Peter Kater, R. Carlos Nakai – Lakota Flute Song (4 out of 5)
So I’m realising that a lot of songs on this playlist are from movies. This one actually soundtracks a six-part miniseries released on the Discovery Channel in 1993, and follows the experiences of Native Americans during America’s westward expansion. The entire soundtrack is described as “deep, soulful and mournful music”. This track is no exception. With no instruments other than a flute, a lot of empty space and the odd sound of someone taking a breath, it is indeed a “deep and soulful” song, I wouldn’t say it’s mournful, however, more…introspective. It reminds me, oddly, of the mountains.
The Takeaway
If I’m being honest, it feels like the person that created this list is a big film score fan. And in one way, it does make sense.
Instrumentals, as Skeffington said, are ideal to lessen the possibility of familiarity to the music. Movie scores also tend to instigate strong emotions when paired with visuals. So I get it.
If I got to choose, however, I’d chuck some Brian Eno in there, maybe something like “Song on the beach” by Arcade Fire or “Ala” by Joep Beving. But that’s just personal preference. I’m no scientist – evidently.
Every song on the playlist also seems to flit between various emotions and volumes, crescendoing or decrescendoing with a bag-full of instruments which, I’m guessing, is aimed to take you on a journey through your emotions and memories. They certainly do whilst I sit here sober.
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