Headphone Music Quotes

I’ve come to the conclusion that people who wear headphones while they walk, are much happier, more confident, and more beautiful individuals than someone making the solitary drudge to work without acknowledging their own interests and power.

Here's to the kids. The kids who would rather spend their night with a bottle of coke & Patrick or Sonny playing on their headphones than go to some vomit-stained high school party. Here's to the kids whose 11:11 wish was wasted on one person who will never be there for them. Here's to the kids whose idea of a good night is sitting on the hood of a car, watching the stars. Here's to the kids who never were too good at life, but still were wicked cool. Here's to the kids who listened to Fall Out boy and Hawthorne Heights before they were on MTV...and blame MTV for ruining their life. Here's to the kids who care more about the music than the haircuts. Here's to the kids who have crushes on a stupid lush. Here's to the kids who hum "A Little Less 16 Candles, A Little More Touch Me" when they're stuck home, dateless, on a Saturday night. Here's to the kids who have ever had a broken heart from someone who didn't even know they existed. Here's to the kids who have read The Perks of Being a Wallflower & didn't feel so alone after doing so. Here's to the kids who spend their days in photobooths with their best friend(s). Here's to the kids who are straight up smartasses & just don't care. Here's to the kids who speak their mind. Here's to the kids who consider screamo their lullaby for going to sleep. Here's to the kids who second guess themselves on everything they do. Here's to the kids who will never have 100 percent confidence in anything they do, and to the kids who are okay with that. Here's to the kids. This one's not for the kids, who always get what they want, But for the ones who never had it at all. It's not for the ones who never got caught, But for the ones who always try and fall. This one's for the kids who didnt make it, We were the kids who never made it. The Overcast girls and the Underdog Boys. Not for the kids who had all their joys. This one's for the kids who never faked it. We're the kids who didn't make it. They say "Breaking hearts is what we do best," And, "We'll make your heart be ripped of your chest" The only heart that I broke was mine, When I got My Hopes up too too high. We were the kids who didnt make it. We are the kids who never made it.

Girl listens to radio. Girl finds music. Girl has whole other world. Girl slips on headphones. World gone.

When you live with a woman you learn something every day. So far I have learned that long hair will clog up the shower drain befor you can say "Liquid-Plumr"; that it is not advisable to clip something out of the newspaper before your wife has read it, even if the newspaper in question is a week old; that I am the only person in our two-person household who can eat the same thing for dinner three nights in a row without pouting; and that headphones were invented to preserve spouses from each other's musical excesses.

My favorite thing about music—when you played it loud enough through good headphones (and I had the best)—was that it softened the edges of the world.

What with your phone and the Xbox and the taxi TV and that music player you wear on your arm and the headphones that look like donuts on your ears, doesn’t it make life so much smaller? If absolutely everything important is only happening on such a small screen, isn’t that a shame? Especially when the world is so overwhelmingly large and surprising? Are you missing too much? You can’t imagine it now, but you’ll look like me one day, even though you’ll feel just the same as you do now. You’ll catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and think how quickly it’s all gone, and I wonder if all the time you used watching those families whose lives are filmed for the television, and making those cartoons of yourselves with panting dog tongues, and chasing after that terrible Pokémon fellow…well, will it feel like time well spent?

Picture a thirteen-year-old boy sitting in the living room of his family home doing his math assignment while wearing his Walkman headphones or watching MTV. He enjoys the liberties hard won over centuries by the alliance of philosophic genius and political heroism, consecrated by the blood of martyrs; he is provided with comfort and leisure by the most productive economy ever known to mankind; science has penetrated the secrets of nature in order to provide him with the marvelous, lifelike electronic sound and image reproduction he is enjoying. And in what does progress culminate? A pubescent child whose body throbs with orgasmic rhythms; whose feelings are made articulate in hymns to the joys of onanism or the killing of parents; whose ambition is to win fame and wealth in imitating the drag-queen who makes the music. In short, life is made into a nonstop, commercially prepackaged masturbational fantasy.

When you're sick of the world, lock your door, grab your pillow, plug in your headphones and turn the music up.

I had seen him on campus before. He was always wearing this yellow sweatshirt and giant headphones. The kind of headphones that say, “I may not take my clothes seriously. I may not have brushed or even washed my hair today. But I pronounce the word ‘music’ with a capital ‘M.

Adam relented. As they kept walking and the Orphan Girl kept piping her song and the fish kept darting through the air around them, he threw out intention of his own. The volume of the resulting boom surprised even him; he heard it in one ear and felt it in both feet. The others all startled as another bass-heavy boom sounded at the beginning of the next measure of the tune. By the time the third thud came, it was obviously pounding in time with the music. Each of the trees they passed sounded with a processed thud, until the sound around them was the pulsing electronic beat that invariably played in Ronan’s car or headphones. “Oh God,” Gansey said, but he was laughing. “Do we have to endure that here, too? Ronan! ” “It wasn’t me,” Ronan said. He looked to Blue, who shrugged. He caught Adam’s eye. When Adam’s mouth quirked, Ronan’s expression stilled for a moment before turning to the loose smile he ordinarily reserved for Matthew’s silliness. Adam felt a surge of both accomplishment and nerves. He skated an edge here. Making Ronan Lynch smile felt as charged as making a bargain with Cabeswater. These weren’t forces to play with.

Hadrian held the headphones close to one ear. “What is this, Eden? You’re listening to music? Stupid, crappy music?” The square-jawed man stared blankly at him. “It’s Celine Dion, sir.” “Get security up here! I want this man in irons. Prepare the Dark Hole!

I try so hard, and it is still not working. I wear the same clothes as the others. I say the same words at the same times: good morning, hi, how are you, I'm fine, good night, please, thank you, you're welcome, no thank you, not right now. I obey the traffic laws; I obey the rules. I have ordinary furniture in my apartment, and I play my unusual music very softly or use headphones. But it is not enough. Even as hard as I try, the real people still want me to change, to be like them.

I sit with my back against a wall, put on my headphones, listen to the music, and imagine galaxies and stars and the Universe above, and I imagine all the light from space flowing into my head and down into my body, going wherever it needs to go.

Hey, I heard this great song,” he said. Gansey tried to tune out the sound of a raven horking down a hot dog. “Want a listen?” Gansey and Ronan rarely agreed on music, but Gansey shrugged an agreement. Removing his headphones from his neck, Ronan placed them on Gansey´s ears - they smelled a little dusty and birdy from proximity to Chainsaw. Sound came through the headphones: “Squash one, squash tw -” Gansey tore them off as Ronan dissolved into manic laughter, which Chainsaw echoed, flapping her wings, both of them terrible and amused. “You bastard,” Gansey said savagely. “You bastard. You betrayed my trust.

His door opened, and Michael filled the doorway. Gabriel yanked the headphones out of his ears, but music still poured out against his comforter. "Ever hear of knocking?" He wanted his voice to be sharp, but he couldn't generate the usual anger. He's not worthless. And you're out of line. "I did knock," said Michael. "Three times.

The night following the reading, Gansey woke up to a completely unfamiliar sound and fumbled for his glasses. It sounded a little like one of his roommates was being killed by a possum, or possibly the final moments of a fatal cat fight. He wasn’t certain of the specifics, but he was sure death was involved. Noah stood in the doorway to his room, his face pathetic and long-suffering. “Make it stop,” he said. Ronan’s room was sacred, and yet here Gansey was, twice in the same weak, pushing the door open. He found the lamp on and Ronan hunched on the bed, wearing only boxers. Six months before, Ronan had gotten the intricate black tattoo that covered most of his back and snaked up his neck, and now the monochromatic lines of it were stark in the claustrophobic lamplight, more real than anything else in the room. It was a peculiar tattoo, both vicious and lovely, and every time Gansey saw it, he saw something different in the pattern. Tonight, nestled in an inked glen of wicked, beautiful flowers, was a beak where before he’d seen a scythe. The ragged sound cut through the apartment again. “What fresh hell is this?” Gansey asked pleasantly. Ronan was wearing headphones as usual, so Gansey stretched forward far enough to tug them down around his neck. Music wailed faintly into the air. Ronan lifted his head. As he did, the wicked flowers on his back shifted and hid behind his sharp shoulder blades. In his lap was the half-formed raven, its head tilted back, beak agape. “I thought we were clear on what a closed door meant,” Ronan said. He held a pair of tweezers in one hand. “I thought we were clear that night was for sleeping.” Ronan shrugged. “Perhaps for you.” “Not tonight. Your pterodactyl woke me. Why is it making that sound?” In response, Ronan dipped the tweezers into a plastic baggy on the blanket in front of him. Gansey wasn’t certain he wanted to know what the gray substance was in the tweezers’ grasp. As soon as the raven heard the rustle of the bag, it made the ghastly sound again—a rasping squeal that became a gurgle as it slurped down the offering. At once, it inspired both Gansey’s compassion and his gag reflex. “Well, this is not going to do,” he said. “You’re going to have to make it stop.” “She has to be fed,” Ronan replied. The ravel gargled down another bite. This time it sounded a lot like vacuuming potato salad. “It’s only every two hours for the first six weeks.” “Can’t you keep her downstairs?” In reply, Ronan half-lifted the little bird toward him. “You tell me.

My favourite thing about music- when you played it loud enough through good headphones - was that it softened the edges of the world.

Not many songs can fend off evil. But the right song with the right voice can be a weapon; anyone who's listened to music through headphones while riding the subway or plowing angrily through a rush-hour sidewalk knows how it can and separate you from them, allows you to say to the teeming masses that you are this and they are that.

Do you need someone to talk to?" she said gently. "Oh. Thank you. No, no, I'm fine." He touched his face – he'd been crying harder than he'd realized. "You sure? You don't look fine." "No, really. I've just . . . I've just had a very intense emotional experience." He held out one of his iPod headphones, as if that would explain it. "On here." "You're crying about music?" The woman looked at him as if he were some kind of pervert. "Well," said Duncan. "I'm not crying about it. I'm not sure that's the right preposition." She shook her head and walked off.

Music was no longer my friend but I left my headphones on round the clock just to keep the outside noise out of my head.

I was listening to this playlist I’d made for her, headphones clamped over my ears. It was the story of us in music, except it wasn’t finished yet. I had this plan that I’d add a new song every month, so that the playlist would keep going as long as we did. It was sort of an electronic version of adopting a tree, which I’d done in the Carbon Footprint Awareness Club, but only because it had looked good, not because I’d actually wanted to. Keeping a playlist alive sounded much more me.

She breathes music. Lives it and bleeds it. Her headphones have become her heartbeat. Her lyrics are her life. Music is her outlet of pain, love, and rage. Every note unplayed is another minute unlived. Every song unsung is another moment lost forever. She relies on music to show her the way, make fantasies real and to ease the pain of everyday life. Each day is another chance to create pure artistry. Music is the reason she is who she is...the good and the bad. Her life without it is like a bird without wings or lungs with out air. Life is for the living. Death is for the dead. Her life is her music. Her death will be the note unsaid.

Dr. R scratches out a note on his pad. "Losing you both was only the practice pain, wasn't it? For my mum and dad..." He puts his finger on his lips, his elbow at his chest, not racked with cancer. "Yes." "And when that happens, this will seem like nothing." He nods. "When it happens," he asks me, "what will get you through?" "Friends who love me." "And if your friends weren't there?" "Music through headphones." "And if the music stopped?" "A sermon by Rabbi Wolpe." "If there was no religion?" "The mountains and the sky." "If you leave California?" "Numbered streets to keep me walking." "If New York falls into the ocean?" Your voice in my head.

She put on her headphones and listened to electronica—an epiphany from childhood: when all lies in disarray there’s still order in music

One of my favorite things to do is put my headphones on,blast some good music and just walk my own personal music video

Headphones also made the music more personal for me; it was suddenly coming from inside my head, not out there in the world. This

lemonade, suntan lotion, books, espadrilles, sunglasses, colored pens, and music, which he listened to with headphones, so that it was impossible to speak to him unless he was speaking to you first.

Flying means boredom. Next time you're going away, just drive. You can leave when you want. You don't have to sit next to a stranger. You can listen to all sorts of loud music without headphones and look at things out of the window that aren't just clouds. Driving is sensible alternative to flying.

The value of the tape was also the crafting of a mixtape. I am from an era when we learned not to waste songs. If you are creating a cassette that you must listen to all the way through, and you are crafting it with your own hands and your own ideas, then it is on you not to waste sounds and to structure a tape with feeling. No skippable songs meant that I wouldn’t have to take my thick gloves off during the chill of a Midwest winter to hit fast-forward on a Walkman, hoping that I would stop a song just in time. No skippable songs meant that when the older, cooler kids on my bus ride to school asked what I was listening to in my headphones, armed with an onslaught of jokes if my shit wasn’t on point, I could hand my headphones over, give them a brief listen of something that would pass quality control, and keep myself safe from humiliation for another day.

I challenged one student about why he always wore headphones in class. He replied that it didn’t matter, because he wasn’t actually playing any music. In another lesson, he was playing music at very low volume through the headphones, without wearing them. When I asked him to switch it off, he replied that even he couldn’t hear it. Why wear the headphones without playing music or play music without wearing the headphones? Because the presence of the phones on the ears or the knowledge that the music is playing (even if he couldn’t hear it) was a reassurance that the matrix was still there, within reach. Besides, in a classic example of interpassivity, if the music was still playing, even if he couldn’t hear it, then the player could still enjoy it on his behalf. The use of headphones is significant here – pop is experienced not as something which could have impacts upon public space, but as a retreat into private ‘OedIpod’ consumer bliss, a walling up against the social. The consequence of being hooked into the entertainment matrix is twitchy, agitated interpassivity, an inability to concentrate or focus. Students’ incapacity to connect current lack of focus with future failure, their inability to synthesize time into any coherent narrative, is symptomatic of more than mere demotivation.

Ty was silent, and in that silence, Kit thought of Ty's headphones, the music in his ears, the whispered words, the way he touched things with such total concentration: smooth stones, rough glass, silk and leather and textured linen. There were people in the world, he knew, who thought human beings like Ty did those things for no reason - because they were inexplicable. Broken. Kit felt a wash of rage go through him. How could they not understand everything Ty did had a reason? If an ambulance siren blared in your ears, you covered them. If something hit you, you doubled up to protect yourself from hurt. But not everyone felt and heard exactly the same way. Ty heard everything twice as loud and fast as everyone else. The headphones and the music, Kit sensed, were a buffer: They deadened not just other noises, but also feelings that would otherwise be too intense. They protected him from hurt. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to live so intensely, to feel things so much, to have the world sway into and out of too-bright colors and too-bright noises. When every sound and feeling was jacked up to eleven, it only made sense to calm yourself by concentrating all your energy on something small that you could master - a mass of pipe cleaners to unravel, the pebbled surface of a glass between your fingers.

Moments of pride commemorate people’s achievements. We feel our chest puff out and our chin lift. 2. There are three practical principles we can use to create more moments of pride: (1) Recognize others; (2) Multiply meaningful milestones; (3) Practice courage. The first principle creates defining moments for others; the latter two allow us to create defining moments for ourselves. 3. We dramatically underinvest in recognition. • Researcher Wiley: 80% of supervisors say they frequently express appreciation, while less than 20% of employees agree. 4. Effective recognition is personal, not programmatic. (“ Employee of the Month” doesn’t cut it.) • Risinger at Eli Lilly used “tailored rewards” (e.g., Bose headphones) to show his team: I saw what you did and I appreciate it. 5. Recognition is characterized by a disjunction: A small investment of effort yields a huge reward for the recipient. • Kira Sloop, the middle school student, had her life changed by a music teacher who told her that her voice was beautiful. 6. To create moments of pride for ourselves, we should multiply meaningful milestones—reframing a long journey so that it features many “finish lines.” • The author Kamb planned ways to “level up”—for instance “Learn how to play ‘Concerning Hobbits’ from The Fellowship of the Ring”—toward his long-term goal of mastering the fiddle.

One of my students performed a radical, poetic intervention into that field of isolation. He was listening to music with headphones, sitting next to a woman also wearing headphones, who was moving a little to her music. He took off his headphones and held them out to her. She looked puzzled for a moment, then took hers off and traded with him. They listened to each other's music for a few minutes and then traded back. Not a word passed between them.

Headphones opened up a world of sonic colors, a palette of nuances and details that went far beyond the chords and melody, the lyrics, or a particular singer’s voice. The swampy Deep South ambience of “Green River” by Creedence, or the pastoral, open-space beauty of the Beatles’ “Mother Nature’s Son”; the oboes in Beethoven’s Sixth (conducted by Karajan), faint and drenched in the atmosphere of a large wood-and-stone church; the sound was an enveloping experience.

I love music. It sets everything in me alive. Every hair stands out on end. I feel like there's a box in my heart, a secret, hidden part of myself. I keep so many things locked inside that box so that no one else will ever see. And when I listen to music, alone in my room with my giant headphones on, the box flies open and all of the colours spill out and somehow merge with the music. I love the feeling. All of my masking and my reservations leave and the hidden parts of my soul come out.

I am sad anyway. I try so hard, and it is still not working. I wear the same clothes as the others. I say the same words at the same times: good morning, hi, how are you, I'm fine, good night, please, thank you, you're welcome, no thank you, not right now. I obey the traffic laws; I obey the rules. I have ordinary furniture in my apartment, and I play my unusual music very softly, or use headphones. But it is not enough. Even as hard as I try, the real people still want me to change, to be like them.

What fresh hell is this?” Gansey asked pleasantly. Ronan was wearing headphones as usual, so Gansey stretched forward far enough to tug them down around his neck. Music wailed faintly into the air. Ronan lifted his head. As he did, the wicked flowers on his back shifted and hid behind his sharp shoulder blades. In his lap was the half-formed raven, its head tilted back, beak agape. “I thought we were clear on what a closed door meant,” Ronan said. He held a pair of tweezers in one hand. “I thought we were clear that night was for sleeping.” Ronan shrugged. “Perhaps for you.” “Not tonight. Your pterodactyl woke me. Why is it making that sound?

I water my plants when the soil looks dry, and I haven’t forgotten my nephew’s birthday once ever. In fact, I started to think about my nephew and all the time he uses that phone, always checking for likes on that Instacart. It’s good to be bored in the car, I always tell him. Spend some time with just yourself and your thoughts and nothing to do. How else will you learn who you are? I’m worried about your posture, dear. I’m concerned that it comes from all the looking down. What with your phone and the Xbox and the taxi TV and that music player you wear on your arm and the headphones that look like donuts on your ears, doesn’t it make life so much smaller? If absolutely everything important is only happening on such a small screen, isn’t that a shame? Especially when the world is so overwhelmingly large and surprising? Are you missing too much? You can’t imagine it now, but you’ll look like me one day, even though you’ll feel just the same as you do now. You’ll catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and think how quickly it’s all gone, and I wonder if all the time you used watching those families whose lives are filmed for the television, and making those cartoons of yourselves with panting dog tongues, and chasing after that terrible Pokémon fellow…well, will it feel like time well spent?

The great ones, however, never get lost in those distractions. Biggie in particular was legendary for his ability to stay focused. There could be all sorts of things going on—drinks being passed, blunts being rolled, people trying to holler at him about various projects—but he’d just sit in a chair with his eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to all the chaos around him. That was his way of connecting to the stillness inside of him, so that when it was time to get behind the microphone, he wasn’t caught up in worrying about how his last record did or how this one might be received once it was released. No, when it was time to make a song, he was always able to connect with both the music he was hearing in his headphones and the poetry that was filling up his heart. The same way today artists like Jay Z or Lil Wayne are able to create entire songs without ever putting a word down on paper. Through being able to connect completely with the music, they are able to operate from that “zone” that the great ones are able to access. That might not sound like a big deal, but I’ve seen so many artists get sidetracked by those distractions. And when it’s time for them to get in the recording booth and execute their craft, their mind is somewhere else. Sure, they’re rapping along to the beat, but they’re not connected to it.

And a naked woman was waiting for him on it. Oh, crap. He’d forgotten all about Ellen, but Marcus’s winery manager obviously hadn’t forgotten about him. If things had gone differently tonight—way differently—he knew he would have been psyched to find her already stripped down and ready for him. Only, after meeting Chloe, Chase was about as unpsyched by Ellen’s naked presence in the house as he could be. Ellen’s eyes were wide as she looked between him and Chloe. Clearly, surprise had her frozen in place on the bed as it took her a minute to remove her iPod headphones. Obviously, the music had masked the sound of Chase and Chloe’s conversation in the living room, and Ellen had had no idea that Chase wouldn’t be walking through the bedroom door alone.

Sensuality is for you, not about you. It’s for you in a sense that you are allowed to indulge all of your senses and taste the goodness of this world and beyond. It’s also for you in a sense that you’re allowed to curate and express yourself in an authentic way (i.e. in the way you dress, communicate, live, love, play, etc.). However, sensuality is not ABOUT you, it’s about those to whom you were brought here to touch and inspire. It’s about the joy and pleasure you’re here to bring. You didn’t come here for yourself nor empty-handed, but you came here bearing special gifts. You were brought here to be a vessel of sensual innovation and a conveyor of heaven’s most deepest pleasures. Your passion is an indication of the sensual gift(s) you were endowed with before you made your grand entry into this world. Your divine mandate now is to exploit every sensual gift you have to the fullest whether it’s music, photography, boudoir or fashion modeling, etc. If you have a love for fashion, always dress impeccably well like my friend Kefilwe Mabote. If you have a love for good food and wine, create culinary experiences the world has never seen before like chef Heston Blumenthal whom I consider as one of the most eminent sensual innovators in the culinary field. Chef Heston has crafted the most sensually innovative culinary experience where each sense has been considered with unparalleled rigour. He believes that eating is a truly multi-sensory experience. This approach has not only led to innovative dishes like the famous bacon and egg ice cream, but also to playing sounds to diners through headphones, and dispersing evocative aromas with dry ice. Chef Heston is indeed a vessel of sensual innovation and a conveyor of heaven’s most deepest pleasures in his own right and field. So, what sensual gift(s) are you here to use? It doesn’t have to be a big thing. For instance, you may be a great home maker. That may be an area where you’re endowed with the most sensual innovative abilities than any other area in your life. You need to occupy and shine your light in that space, no matter how small it seems.

Every Saturday, heat or cold, rain or shine, Milly would see Avery running up their road, her long blond ponytail swishing in time with her legs, just as the sun was making gemstones out of the fields and the hills and the bales of hay scattered across the landscape. Twiss would still be snoring away upstairs. Years of sleep remedies had failed to subdue her; she still slept like a wild animal and woke like one, too. On warm mornings, Milly would take her cup of tea out to the porch to watch Avery run by. Though she'd never been a runner herself- she didn't like the sensation of breathlessness, or the hard thunk of her heart- she'd loved to watch Twiss run. And Avery was an even better runner than Twiss had been, and certainly more graceful. She'd run first on the Spring Green high school team and then on the university team and now was training to run the marathon in the Olympic trials. In an interview, when a reporter from the 'Gazette' asked her why she ran, Avery said, "Why does anybody do anything?" which had made Milly like Avery even more. Each Saturday morning, after she passed the driveway, Avery would pick up speed in order to crest the upcoming hills. Sometimes she ran with a yellow music player and matching headphones, but most of the time, she ran without them. "Something comes in and something goes out," Avery had added in the interview, as if she'd been playing at being coy but couldn't really play when it came to running. "I'd keep running forever if my legs would let me." "Tell me about the routes you run in Spring Green," the reporter had said. "My favorite is my Saturday route," Avery said. "There's this little purple meadow I pass on my way up into the hills. When I was little, my grandpa used to say it was enchanted. He said if you walked through it, you'd never be the same person again." "Where did he hear the story?" the reporter asked. "I guess he used to know the people who lived in that house," Avery said. "The bird sisters?" the reporter said. "All I know is, when I pass that meadow, suddenly I can run faster," Avery said. "Are you superstitious?" "I visualize the meadow during all of my races, if that's what you mean." "Have you ever walked through it?" "I believe in it too much," Avery said. "Can you be more specific?" the reporter asked. "No," Avery said.

Both ‘Childhood’ and ‘Smile’ were recorded live with an orchestra at the Hit Factory on the same day, with the majority of Michael’s live vocals from the sessions used on the final versions. But Michael was so unhappy with his vocals for ‘Smile’ that he recorded over a dozen takes. “Michael did a bunch of takes live with orchestra that would be called amazing by most standards,” Rob Hoffman said. “He then did more later that day, and I think some the next as well. In all I think there were 14 takes.” Michael may not have been satisfied, but the orchestra was blown away by the performance. “When we finished recording with the orchestra, Michael asked me if he could go out in the studio and meet the musicians,” Bruce Swedien said. “During the recording, the entire orchestra had been listening to Michael sing through their individual headphones. When Michael walked out in the studio to meet the orchestra, they gave him a standing ovation. Every member of the 50-piece orchestra stood up and tapped their music stands with their bows, as loud as they could! Michael was thrilled.

As an investigative journalist I am working most of the day with three computer screens in front me while musical vibrations are hitting my mid-brain by means of the headphone I am wearing. Recently I am started to see strange black, transparent smudges crossing my screens… from the corners of my eyes. From now on I will call these remarkable moments; "The Tandy-phenomena

chose the quiet coach when I boarded at Portsmouth and Southsea. True to form, most people were chatting inanely on their mobile phones or leaking hissing drumbeats from their headphones, so I kept going, looking for an area without cackling post-hen-parties, toddlers or badly tuned radios. There is nothing worse than being forced to listen to other people’s choice of music, except perhaps other people’s children’s choice of music. As I entered the next carriage, my foot caught in a loose strap and I found myself spread-eagled over a table occupied by four men in rugby shirts,

Whatcha listenin' to?" "Oh, you probably wouldn't like it." "Try me." He shrugs as he passes the headphones across the slim space between our beds. This is gonna be good. I've got him pegged for a Yanni diehard, and I smirk a little as the music starts. One of my cellies had a thing for electronic rock, so I recognize the song right away. With the heavy breathing at the start, it's unforgettable and creepy as hell. Seriously. Like stalker-level shit. I want you now, tomorrow won't do. There's a yearning inside and it's showing through. "Depeche Mode, huh? Cool, man. Wouldn't have figured it." Reach out your hands and accept my love. We've waited for too long. Enough is enough. Like I said, stalker-level. His laugh is jittery, quick as the cockroaches in Folsom. "It's my favorite song. Reminds me of being seventeen again. You know, when sex was all you could think about." I pretend I'm not totally skeeved out when I return his headphones and shut the lights.

It's so mean to tell me my headphones are too loud. If I don't spend time with the music in my heart, I only feel colder. If I don't separate from the crowd, I'm only getting emptier. It drowns me into my own imagination, just like they wanted. It drowns the world away, cancels everything. It sends me to the weightless floating in the dark clean waters. It keeps me silent and slow.

answers) 8.There is no crosswalk and you see a pedestrian crossing your lane ahead. You should: Stop and let him/her finish crossing the street. 9.It is illegal to listen to: Listening to music through headphones that cover both ears. 10.Always stop before you cross railroad tracks when: You don't have room on the other side to completely cross the tracks. 11.When you tailgate other drivers (drive close to their rear bumper): You can frustrate the other drivers and make them angry. 12.Should you always drive slower than other traffic? No, you can block traffic when you drive too slowly. 13.You see a signal person at a road construction site ahead. You should obey his or her instructions: At all times. 14.If you plan to pass another vehicle, you should: Not assume the other driver will make space for you to return to your lane  

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We put on our headphones and escape from the world into our own curated soundtracks. But at the same time, many fans have kept faith with the idea that music brings people together, assembling audiences that cross boundaries. The truth, of course, is that both of these ideas are important and true. Popular songs or styles or performers can erase boundaries, but they can also erect new ones.

Approximately three thousand people work for the Bureau of Engraving. It takes 490 notes to make a pound, and it would require 14.5 million notes to make a stack one mile high. Coin and paper account for only about 8 percent of all the dollars in the world. The rest are merely numbers in a ledger or tiny electronic blips on a computer chip. At the end of the process, the workers bundle the bills into packages of 100, which they then stack into bricks of 4,000. These bricks are loaded onto a pallet for transport to the basement from where they will be sent to the various Federal Reserve offices around the nation for distribution to banks and the public. Along the way, the curious visitors pepper the guides with questions: Q. Why are so many employees listening to music on headphones? A. To block the loud sound of the printing, cutting, and stacking machines. Q. Why are some of them eating? A. They are on break. Q. Why are all of the checkers so fat? A. Because they sit all day and watch money go by with little chance for exercise.

She arrives there and puts music on her phone. I put my headphones in and turn on her mic, just so I can hear her sing along to the melody.

That night changed my life: I was finally experiencing, in person, the songs that had been the soundtrack of my life for the past few years, the lyric-images I'd memorized after hours of headphone-listening on walks to school, the words that had been direct-deposited into my heart though the channel of my ears---I was hearing them here, now, in a moment that would never exist again.

Although in 2005 compact discs still represented over 98 percent of the market for legal album sales, Morris had no loyalty to the format. In May of that year, Vivendi Universal announced it was spinning off its CD manufacturing and distribution business into a calcified corporate shell called the Entertainment Distribution Company. Included in EDC’s assets were several massive warehouses and two large-scale compact disc manufacturing plants: one in Hanover, Germany, and one in Kings Mountain, North Carolina. Universal would still manufacture all its CDs at the plants, but now this would be an arms-length transaction that allowed them to watch the superannuation of optical media from a comfortable distance. It was one of the oldest moves in the corporate finance playbook: divest yourself of underperforming assets while holding on to the good stuff. EDC was a classic “stub company,” a dogshit collection of low-growth, capital-intensive factory equipment that was rapidly going obsolete. In other words, EDC was a drag on A that added little to B. Let the investment bankers figure out who wanted it—Universal had gone digital, and the death rattle of the compact disc had grown loud enough for even Doug Morris to hear. The CD was the past; the iPod was the future. People loved these stupid things. You could hardly go outside without getting run over by some dumb jogger rocking white headphones and a clip-on Shuffle. Apple stores were generating more sales per square foot than any business in the history of retail. The wrapped-up box with a sleek wafer-sized Nano inside was the most popular gift in the history of Christmas. Apple had created the most ubiquitous gadget in the history of stuff.

Lately I’ve been falling asleep with my headphones on, the music paving over my thoughts.

The kid working—Grace’s use of the term working being overly generous here—behind the counter had a white fuzz pellet under his chin, hair dyed a color that’d intimidate Crayola, and enough piercings to double as a wind instrument. One of those wrap-around-low headphones snaked around the back of his neck. The music was so loud that Grace could feel it in her chest. He had tattoos, lots of them. One read STONE. Another read KILLJOY. Grace thought that a third should read SLACKER.

GGMM Nightingale isn't just for iPods or MP3 players but also for a lecture or novel listening, or take notes from a recorded business meeting, or provides a quiet and private room to enjoy a good book or album; It allows you to have conversations while on the move; Getting fit and healthy is more fun when you listen to your favourite music during your workout. Pick up Nightingale, turn up the volume, and begin your training.

Private listening really took off in 1979, with the popularity of the Walkman portable cassette player. Listening to music on a Walkman is a variation of the “sitting very still in a concert hall” experience (there are no acoustic distractions), combined with the virtual space (achieved by adding reverb and echo to the vocals and instruments) that studio recording allows. With headphones on, you can hear and appreciate extreme detail and subtlety, and the lack of uncontrollable reverb inherent in hearing music in a live room means that rhythmic material survives beautifully and completely intact; it doesn’t get blurred or turned into sonic mush as it often does in a concert hall. You, and only you, the audience of one, can hear a million tiny details, even with the compression that MP3 technology adds to recordings. You can hear the singer’s breath intake, their fingers on a guitar string. That said, extreme and sudden dynamic changes can be painful on a personal music player. As

With headphones on, you can hear and appreciate extreme detail and subtlety, and the lack of uncontrollable reverb inherent in hearing music in a live room means that rhythmic material survives beautifully and completely intact; it doesn’t get blurred or turned into sonic mush as it often does in a concert hall.

I would often sit in the corner of the room wearing Dad's massive headphones, carefully replaying the records time after time. It was something I did frequently throughout my childhood with music, comedy and film, inspiring my own creative imagination, the headphones rendering the experience intensely personal, as though it were all happening inside my own head.

You float like a feather," sings Radiohead, "In a beautiful world." I've listened several times to the Radiohead songs, because it was nice of Raymond to say he heard a bit of them in what I sang. I'm not sure I hear it myself, but I am pleased and touched. Sometimes that's what you need, just a quick casual word of knowledgeable encouragement. Radiohead reminds me a little of the songs in Garden State soundtrack. Now, that's a soundtrack. They were all songs that Zach Braff liked, so he put them in his movie. And there's that beautiful moment near the beginning where Natalie Portman hands him the headphones and she watches him listen to the song and she smiles her huge, innocent Natalie Portman smile.

International Design Excellence Awards Finalist, Alauda performs full frequencies for different types of music with deep bass, clear and clean human voice and undistorted tweeter, showing hi-fi stereo sound quality.

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Two powerful 9.2mm drivers deliver clean, natural, and well-balanced sound; sizzling highs, present mids, and powerful bass.The in-ear design combined with the correct ear tips will seal your music in and leave the external noise out. It is perfect for daily commuting, traveling, exercising and tuning out the noises around you.

To anyone born after 1975 there is nothing outlandish about people walking around or sitting on a train wearing headphones, but in the late 1970s this was a very odd behaviour indeed; comparable to the use of an early cellphone in the late 1980s, when to use one in public carried a high risk of ridicule.* In market research, the Walkman aroused very little interest and quite a lot of hostility. ‘Why would I want to walk about with music playing in my head?’ was a typical response, but Morita ignored it. The request for the Walkman had initially come from the 70-year-old Ibuka, who wanted a small device to allow him to listen to full-length operas on flights between Tokyo and the US.*

She has no regard for shared public space. Dignified respectful citizens of the world use earbuds or headphones to privatize their music.

I put my headphones on. I let my favourite songs wrap around me like old friends. The music acts as a soothing balm after a lot of stimulation.

For example, when tones of 400 Hz and 800 Hz are presented to the two ears with opposite phase, about 99% of subjects experience the lower tone in one ear and the higher tone in the other ear. When the headphones are reversed, the lower tone stays in the same ear as before. See her 1974 article in Nature for further details.

Later that night, Avery lay in their deep claw-foot bath listening to the radio. She didn't care what was on; she just needed some noise in the room to prevent her from being alone with her thoughts. This was something she remembered from early sobriety, how unbearable it felt to even brush her teeth without having something to distract her. She would blast the television while she showered, hold a hairdryer in one hand and a book in the other, scroll the news while she ate, and lie in bed with headphones piping music into her ears late into the night. Over time, however, her mind had become a more peaceful place. She had even been on meditation retreats, whole days spent simply being present with herself, paying attention to her breath, letting thoughts drift through her mind like clouds in a clear sky. Not anymore. Now, when she closed her eyes, she saw every mistake she had made leading up to this moment. Her inner weather, once calm, had become stormy again.

A prediction about safety is not, of course, merely statistical or demographic. If it were, a woman crossing a park alone one late afternoon could calculate risk like this: there are 200 people in the park; 100 are children, so they cause no concern. Of the remaining 100, all but 20 are part of couples; 5 of those 20 are women, meaning concern would appropriately attach to about 15 people she might encounter (men alone). But rather than acting just on these demographics, the woman’s intuition will focus on the behavior of the 15 (and on the context of that behavior). Any man alone may get her attention for an instant, but among those, only the ones doing certain things will be moved closer to the center of the predictive circle. Men who look at her, show special interest in her, follow her, appear furtive, or approach her will be far closer to the center than those who walk by without apparent interest, or those playing with a dog, or those on a bicycle, or those asleep on the grass. Speaking of crossing a park alone, I often see women violating some of nature’s basic safety rules. The woman who jogs along enjoying music through Walkman headphones has disabled the survival sense most likely to warn her about dangerous approaches: her hearing. To make matters worse, those wires leading up to her ears display her vulnerability for everyone to see. Another example is that while women wouldn’t walk around blind-folded, of course, many do not use the full resources of their vision; they are reluctant to look squarely at strangers who concern them. Believing she is being followed, a woman might take just a tentative look, hoping to see if someone is visible in her peripheral vision. It is better to turn completely, take in everything, and look squarely at someone who concerns you. This not only gives you information, but it communicates to him that you are not a tentative, frightened victim-in-waiting. You are an animal of nature, fully endowed with hearing, sight, intellect, and dangerous defenses. You are not easy prey, so don’t act like you are.

He used to love newsrooms: the ones he had visited when his father was alive, the ones where he had interned when he was starting out—AP and UPI wire machines buzzing and clicking; typewriters clacking; reporters on phones, conducting interviews, badgering sources; heated arguments about politics in the commissary and by the vending machines. But entering the Tomorrow building was like walking into a war-torn city after a neutron bomb had gone off. Half the offices were empty or filled with their downsized occupants’ detritus. Eerie silence predominated; cubicles were occupied by beaten-down millennials scrolling Twitter, listening to music through headphones, surreptitiously filling out job applications or updating their CVs on LinkedIn. People barely talked, just messaged each other on Slack.

I used to keep a MiniDisc player in my pocket, with the headphone wire running along my sleeve to my wrist. It meant I could sit in class, resting my cheek on my palm, listening to music. I thought it was a genius move. My teachers took a different view.

The songs transported her backwards in time, to when she first wrote them. As each one melted into the next, as her voice sang lyrics and melodies from her past, memories burst like colors across a blank canvas. Because inside each and every one of these songs---songs she'd written before she ever left Edgewood---memories were hidden. Emeline choked on them. Hot tears burned in her eyes as she tapped the next file, and the next, racing through songs and, with them, memories that had been stolen from her. Images of a younger Sable flashed before her eyes, interwoven with a younger Rooke. And someone else. Hawthorne. He was everywhere, with his dark hair and strange eyes. Her songs were so full of him, Emeline felt like she was drowning in him. Hawthorne, sitting next to the fire, reading a book. Hawthorne, shucking off his shirt and diving into a moonlit pond. Hawthorne, climbing in through her bedroom window. Kissing her in the dark. She'd embedded him inside her music. Because songs were never just songs for Emeline. They were capsules, each one containing a moment trapped inside it. As the next one started to play through her headphones, an image of a tree rose up in her mind. Emeline could see its thirsty roots; the twisting, twirling gray-brown bark; the gnarly branches stretching towards the sky. A silent sentinel, standing guard at the edge of the woods. Her tree.

My favourite thing about music - when you played it loud enough through good headphones (and I have the best)- was that it softened the edges of the world.

The feeling of steadily leaving this place but still remaining inside of it. We say we miss them but we don’t mean them. We mean the autumn we discovered them, when we had our headphones in and felt like we were a movie. We mean the way the breeze felt on our skin that day, while we walked toward our best friend’s house. We mean words put to music that belong on the refrigerator of our hearts, a magnet that holds up a picture of our nephews. We mean a history that was never written for us, those words that found themselves in our mouths and danced out so easily.

eggs and curried chicken salad and double fudge brownies. That was all she was good at: eating. In the summer the Castles, the Alistairs, and the Randolphs all went to the beach together. When they were younger, they would play flashlight tag, light a bonfire, and sing Beatles songs, with Mr. Randolph playing the guitar and Penny’s voice floating above everyone else’s. But at some point Demeter had stopped feeling comfortable in a bathing suit. She wore shorts and oversized T-shirts to the beach, and she wouldn’t go in the water, wouldn’t walk with Penny to look for shells, wouldn’t throw the Frisbee with Hobby and Jake. The other three kids always tried to include Demeter, which was more humiliating, somehow, than if they’d just ignored her. They were earnest in their pursuit of her attention, but Demeter suspected this was their parents’ doing. Mr. Randolph might have offered Jake a twenty-dollar bribe to be nice to Demeter because Al Castle was an old friend. Hobby and Penny were nice to her because they felt sorry for her. Or maybe Hobby and Penny and Jake all had a bet going about who would be the one to break through Demeter’s Teflon shield. She was a game to them. In the fall there were football parties at the Alistairs’ house, during which the adults and Hobby and Jake watched the Patriots, Penny listened to music on her headphones, and Demeter dug into Zoe Alistair’s white chicken chili and topped it with a double spoonful of sour cream. In the winter there were weekends at Stowe. Al and Lynne Castle owned a condo near the mountain, and Demeter had learned to ski as a child. According to her parents, she used to careen down the black-diamond trails without a moment’s hesitation. But by the time they went to Vermont with the Alistairs and the Randolphs, Demeter refused to get on skis at all. She sat in the lodge and drank hot chocolate until the rest of the gang came clomping in after their runs, rosy-cheeked and winded. And then the ski weekends, at least, had stopped happening, because Hobby had basketball and Penny and Jake were in the school musical, which meant rehearsals night and day. Demeter thought back to all those springs, summers, falls, and winters with Hobby and Penny and Jake, and she wondered how her parents could have put her through such exquisite torture. Hobby and Penny and Jake were all exceptional children, while Demeter was seventy pounds overweight, which sank her self-esteem, which led to her getting mediocre grades when she was smart enough for A’s and killed her chances of landing the part of Rizzo in Grease, even though she was a gifted actress. Hobby was in a coma. Her mother was on the phone. She kept

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From there, you can ask open-ended questions to keep leading the conversation: - What brought you to this city? - What do you like to do for fun here? - [If she’s with a friend] How do you guys know each other? - [If she was listening to headphones] What kind of music were you jamming out to?

I’d taken off my headphones, but the music kept playing through them. I could feel the bass pulsing a beat against my thigh. It felt like the end of the world. Or like the creation. Something was exploding.

I met Chris at the Student Union. We both used to study there between our 9:30 and 11:30 classes. I had seen him on campus before. He was always wearing this yellow sweatshirt and giant headphones. The kind of headphones that say, “I may not take my clothes seriously. I may not have brushed or even washed my hair today. But I pronounce the word ‘music’ with a capital ‘M.’ Like God.” So I had noticed him before. He had Eddie Vedder hair. Ginger brown, tangly. He was too thin (much thinner than he is now), and there were permanent smudges under his eyes. Like he was too cool to eat or sleep. I thought he was dreamy. I called him Headphone Boy. I couldn’t believe my luck when I realized we studied in the Union at the same time. Well, I studied. He would pull a paperback out of his pocket and read. Never a textbook. Sometimes, he’d just sit there with his eyes closed, listening to music, his legs all jangly and loose. He gave me impure thoughts. (...) There we were. In the Student Union. He always sat in the corner. And I always sat one row across from him, three seats down. I took to leaving my 9:30 class early so I could primp and be in my spot looking casual by the time he sauntered in. He never looked at me – or anyone else, to my relief – and he never took off his headphones. I used to fantasize about what song he might be listening to… and whether it would be the first dance at our wedding… and whether we’d go with traditional wedding photography or black and white… Probably black and white, magazine style. There’d be lots of slightly out-of-focus, candid shots of us embracing with a romantic, faraway look in our eyes. Of course, Headphone Boy already had a faraway look in his eyes, which my friend Lynn attributed to “breakfast with Mary Jane.” This started in September. Sometime in October, one of his friends walked by and called him “Chris.” (A name, at last. “Say it loud and there’s music playing. Say it soft and it’s almost like praying.”) One Tuesday night in November, I saw him at the library. I spent the next four Tuesday nights there, hoping it was a pattern. It wasn’t. Sometimes I’d allow myself to follow him to his 11:30 class in Andrews Hall, and then I’d have to run across campus to make it to my class in the Temple Building. By the end of the semester, I was long past the point of starting a natural, casual conversation with him. I stopped trying to make eye contact. I even started dating a Sig Ep I met in my sociology class. But I couldn’t give up my 10:30 date with Headphone Boy. I figured, after Christmas break, our schedules would change, and that would be that. I’d wait until then to move on. All my hope was lost. And then… the week before finals, I showed up at the Union at my usual time and found Chris sitting in my seat. His headphones were around his neck, and he watched me walk toward him. At least, I thought he was watching me. He had never looked at me before, never, and the idea made my skin burn. Before I could solve the problem of where to sit, he was talking to me. He said, “Hey.” And I said, “Hi.” And he said, “Look…” His eyes were green. He kind of squinted when he talked. “I’ve got a 10:30 class next semester, so… we should probably make other arrangements.” I was struck numb. I said, “Are you mocking me?” “No,” he said, “I’m asking you out.” “Then, I’m saying yes.” “Good..,” he said, “we could have dinner. You could still sit across from me. It would be just like a Tuesday morning. But with breadsticks.” “Now you’re mocking me.” “Yes.” He was still smiling. “Now I am.” And that was that. We went out that weekend. And the next weekend. And the next. It was wildly romantic.

Hammer Airflow truly wireless Bluetooth earbuds comes with the latest Bluetooth v5.0 technology. Through this you can easily pair any Bluetooth enabled device within 10 Meter of radius. Get a long battery backup with a magnetic charging case(400mah). This truly wirelessBluetooth earphone is the best wireless Bluetooth for music. You can enjoy music with deep bass and answering the call by built in Microphone feature. Hammer Airflow Truly Wireless Bluetooth Earbuds (TWS) Hammer Airflow Truly Wireless Bluetooth Earbuds Features Usage: Hammer Airflow truly wireless Bluetooth earphones are designed for calling, music, gaming, sports and active lifestyle. Battery: Hammer Airflow wireless Bluetooth battery backup is up to 4 hours with music and calling on a single full charge. This wireless Bluetooth earphone is charge quickly within only 1.5 best truly wireless earbuds in India hours and 100 hours of standby time. Bluetooth 5.0: Airflow wireless Bluetooth earphone having latest technology Bluetooth v5.0. Which is maximizes the stability, performance and connectivity of Bluetooth earbuds which effectively reduces the power consumption. Stylish charging case: Hammer Airflow wireless Bluetooth earbuds comes with a stylish magnetic charging case (400mah) which makes the earbuds safe & dustproof. Monopod capability: Hammer Airflow wireless earphone buds can be used as two independent monopods. Comfort fit: Super-secure Airflow buds come with 2 ear-tips which provide perfect fit and comfort for all-day wearing with no distractions Product description TWS EARBUDS WITH ULTRA LONG BATTERY LIFE: Earbuds with charging case of 400 mah can charge your truly wireless earbuds about 7 to 8 times. Once the Bluetooth earbuds are in the charging case, they will be charged automatically and only takes about 1 hour to fully charge. You get about 4 hours of music playback time in a single charge of earbuds. TRULY WIRELESS EARBUDS WITH MIC: Truly wireless Bluetooth earbuds are best for calling. You will never have to worry about the wire linking, as Hammer Bluetooth earbuds are cable free and the Bluetooth connection has a strong signal upto 10 meters. BLUETOOTH EARBUDS WIRELESS PAIRING TECHNOLOGY: Pressing the right earbud thrice will make it the master earbud. Turn on Bluetooth on your phone, scan available Bluetooth devices, select Hammer Airflow the main earbud voice prompts your device is connected. The earbuds are connected successfully, now you can use it for music or calls. true wireless earbuds for sports INTEGRATED CONTROL BUTTON: With multi-function button you can play / pause music, next/ previous song, increase/ decrease volume, answer / reject calls and activate Siri / Google voice assistant. Additional Features: Bluetooth Headphones, Siri Google Assistant, Wireless Earphones, Long Lasting Battery, 3-4 Hours Playtime, Wireless Earbuds Headset Mic Headphones, True Wireless Design Bluetooth 5.0, Stylish Earphone, Deep Bass, Mono Calling (Single Earbud), Working Distance 10M, Standby time 60 Hours Compatible Devices: Compatible with iOS/Android Brand: Hammer Model number: AIRFLOW Battery Cell Composition: Lithium Polymer Item Weight: 40.8 g Warranty Details: Hammer Airflow comes with 6 months Replacement warranty only in case of manufacturing defects. Product Registration is mandatory at Warranty page within 10 days of your purchase to claim the warranty. Customer Care: Email: info@hammeronline.in MOB: 9991 108 081

silence, Kit thought of Ty’s headphones, the music in

What does True Wireless Earbuds Mean Where are my earphones? Ahh!! There they are….and they are tangled (with irksome scream inside your head). There is nothing more frustrating than going on a search operation for your headphones and finally finding them entangled. Well thanks to the advance technology these days one of your daily struggles is gone with the arrival of wireless earphones in the market. No wire means no entanglement. ‘Kill the problem before it kills you’, you know the saying. Right! So what actually truly wireless earbuds are? Why should you replace your old headphones and invest in wireless ones? Without any further delay let’s dig deep into it. image WHAT ARE TRUE WIRELESS EARBUDS? A lot of people misunderstand true wireless earbuds and wireless earphones as the same thing. When it’s not. A true wireless earbuds which solely connects through Bluetooth and not through any wire or cord or through any other source. While wireless earphones are the ones which are connected through Bluetooth to audio source but the connection between the two ear plugs is established through a cable between them. Why true wireless earbuds? Usability: Who doesn’t like freedom! With no wire restrictions, it’s easier to workout without sacrificing your music motivation. From those super stretch yoga asanas to marathon running, from weight training to cycling - you actually can do all those without worrying about your phone safety or the dilemma of where to put them. With no wire and smooth distance connection interface, you have the full freedom of your body movement. They also comes with a charging case so you don’t have to worry about it’s battery. Good audio quality and background noise cancellation: With features like active noise cancellation, which declutter the unwanted background voice giving you the ultimate audio quality. These earbuds has just leveled up the experience of music and prevents you from getting distracted. Comfort and design: These small ear buddies are friendly which snuggles into your ear canal and don’t put too much pressure on your delicate ears as they are light weight. They are style statement maker and are comfortable to use even when you are on move, they stick to your ear and don’t fall off easily. Apart from all that you can easily answer your call on go, pause your music or whatever you are listening, switch to next by just touching your earplugs. image Convenience: You don’t necessarily have to have your phone on you like the wired ones. The farthest distance you could go was the length of the cable. But with wireless ones this is not the case, they could transmit sound waves from 8 meter upto 30 meters varying from model to model. Which allows you multi-task and make your household chores interesting. You can enjoy your podcasts or music or follow the recipe while cooking in your kitchen when your phone is lying in your living room. Voice assistance: How fascinating was it to watch all those detective/ secret agent thriller movies while they are on run and getting directions from their computer savvy buddies. Ethan Hunt from Mission Impossible….. Remember! Many wireless earphones comes with voice assistance feature which makes it easy to go around the places you are new to. You don’t have to stop and look to your phone screen for directions which makes it easier to move either on foot or while driving. Few things for you to keep in mind and compare before investing in a true wireless earphones :- Sound Quality Battery Life Wireless Range Comfort and design Warranty Price Gone are those days when true wireless earbuds were expensive possession. They are quite economical now and are available with various features depending upon different brands in your price range.

Music and Headphones — No Bad Boyz fan would ever be without her tunes and a

There's a cheery fire in a pit. Sitting by the fire is Doug the demon. He's bobbing his head in time to music playing from headphones, and there's a book in his hands. I peer at it. Nicholas Sparks. Doug really might be evil, then.

He was always wearing this yellow sweatshirt and giant headphones. The kind of headphones that say, “I may not take my clothes seriously. I may not have brushed or even washed my hair today. But I pronounce the word ‘music’ with a capital ‘M.’ Like God.

Girl listens to radio. Girl finds music. Girl has whole other world. Girl slips on headphones. World gone.

He would buy me a pair of headphones if I would promise to use them when he was home. Those headphones forever changed the way I listened to music.

And often, we didn’t talk at all. There was such a peace to sharing space with him with the burden of speech removed. I’d never had that. The sense that just by existing as myself, I was participating positively in someone else’s life. When I’d lived with Kaspar, I had stayed away from him if I didn’t want to interact. If I didn’t have the energy to talk, then I didn’t walk into the kitchen when he was getting coffee; if I didn’t want to have sex, then I didn’t touch him. I learned not to make any promises with my presence that I wouldn’t be able to deliver on. It was easier that way. But Faron and I seemed to move around each other with awareness but no obligation. I’d tried testing the waters—kissing Faron on the cheek as I walked by the couch when he was reading. He’d smiled and run a hand through my hair, but when I continued on to the kitchen, he made no comment. I’d sat on the couch next to him another time, and put on headphones to listen to music, and he didn’t try to talk to me, just rearranged himself on the couch so I could put my legs over his if I chose. It was like learning a new language of proximity. A language that finally felt like my native tongue. Sex with

Turn off your wireless router (if you’re working on a deep work task that doesn’t require the Internet). •      Play music or white noise that you feel helps you stay focused (see small action #9). •      Wear a pair of headphones if you work in an office (do this even if you don’t listen to music, so you’ll have a barrier around the people who like to interrupt you). •      Tell coworkers (and family members) that you shouldn’t be disturbed during this time unless it’s an emergency. •      Use any of the tools mentioned in small action #6 to block the distractions on your computer. •      Set a timer where you work at a priority task without taking a break. (My preference is the Pomodoro Technique, which I’ll talk about in a bit.)

Many experiments have now shown that synchronous movement has exactly these effects. In one study, small groups of college students were given headphones to wear and were asked to hold up a beer mug and sway along with the music that they heard. Half of the groups swayed in perfect harmony (because they were listening to the same music at the same time). Half were out of sync (because the music was delivered to their headphones that way). All groups then played a trust game in which a group makes the most money if they all cooperate across many rounds, but any one of them could earn more money by making the selfish choice on any single round. Groups that had moved in sync with each other trusted each other more, cooperated more, and made more money than those that had moved out of sync.[