You know that some of the most important conversations happen in the most unremarkable moments. This one happened in a car, on New Year’s Day, on the way to Covent Garden.

Do you remember 1st January 2012? That New Year, I stayed with dear friends, one of whom is a colleague. Our conversations always turned to education, teaching, learning, researching, identity and round we go, sharing ideas, looking at well-trodden paths in new ways and then circling back again to projects we were working on or neglecting - as in my case.

“When are you going to actually put it out there - your doctoral work on rhythm?” she asked.

“Well it’s shelved to be honest because I need to work with an amazing musician, who can create extraordinary resources with me. It’s not really going to happen unless I can do that to an incredible standard,” I murmured.

If she had not ‘guilt-tripped’ me into ‘getting it done' because it’s about 'doing the right thing’ perhaps that challenge would have never been addressed.

The problem: Music composed from a neuroscience brief

The problem seemed huge. I needed someone to write music that would captivate children, whilst sculpting their attention, to such an extent that it shifted their nervous system. The overall effect needed to remove learning barriers. The music needed to move the children’s habitual mindset away from an analytic pattern - (which can be also described as ‘vigilant’) and into a future-oriented state (also described by researchers as ‘rhythmic’).

Since, 2006 I had been distracted by a huge amount of collaborative research work on various projects that I was involved in. As the interviewer on these projects, I’d travel to schools in areas of social disadvantage around the various regions of England. In a National Pilot I would speak year on year with Headteachers, Specialist Reading Teachers, KS1 Classroom Teachers, Home-School Liaison practitioners, parents and children. In another project with a different team, I’d interviewed adolescents, KS2 teachers, KS3 teachers, music specialist teachers and charted the development of musical identity across school transition in a project funded by the Paul Hamlyn Foundation. I’d also worked on a project about musical identity at the Guildhall School of Music & Drama, once again interviewing adolescents about musical preferences. This is when, in 2010 I’d first met Professor Eric Crees.

Introducing Eric Crees: The composer who could translate science into sound

Eric Crees is internationally recognized for his works for Symphonic Brass. As a musician myself, I’d heard his arrangements performed live, as well as in broadcasts on BBC R3 and had been impressed by his vibrant use of color in the sound as well as the outrageous humor that gives his music an unmistakable edge. As a world class performer and director of ensembles Eric is in demand around the world.

On 1st January 2012, having left our friends’ house, I was driving Eric to Covent Garden, London. As Principal Trombone at the Orchestra of the Royal Opera House he was required for a rehearsal of Wagner’s Ring Cycle. Following the conversation earlier, I realized that he was the perfect musician to write the music that would bring my own work on rhythm and reading to schools. I needed an exceptional musician who could translate scientific parameters into appealing, breathing music. He agreed to the idea, (even though the constraints on his creativity would be very tight) and was excited to embark on a new project, one that we hoped would help many schools, teachers and children overcome existing barriers to reading.

The creative brief: Musical integrity meets educational precision

We both agreed that musical integrity was vital for the success of the project. I knew from interviewing children and adolescents that they needed to work with music that felt fresh, original, characterful and sounded catchy, and that the appeal of the music was a non-negotiable. Our aim was that every teacher or music educator would find them satisfying and rewarding to work with.

The more challenging element of the brief was constraining Eric’s scope for writing. From an educational point of view, I needed the resources to feel consistent and to achieve continuity across the programme. This meant that Eric needed to write music at a consistent pace and with a consistent rhythmic structure (tempo and meter). Yet each tune needed to feel unique in terms of character, rhythmic feel and patterns. This challenge played into Eric’s strong suit. He was used to writing in a wide range of styles and genres and enjoyed playing on stylistic boundaries to create even more variation.

This aspect of the project was hugely important as I knew that we would need to cater for musical identities of children aged between five and fifteen. We were also aware that teachers needed to work with the music repeatedly, and to never tire of it!

Dinosaurs, Dolphins and a Dalek: Creating music that transports children to another world.

The sheer variety in the resources that Eric has managed to create is quite extraordinary. We have iconic appearances from dinosaurs, dolphins, a purple tiger, a dalek, a gladiator and a huge range of beats - from a rock style march to funk, and also from groove to techno.

The most popular of these is our Dolphin tune. The synth melody soars high above the accompaniment. It follows the graceful shape of a dolphin’s joyful leap out of the water, the arc it traces through the air before diving deep under the surface again. The ‘splash’ at the end of this tune is one of the children’s favorite moments of the programme. How did we achieve this?

Two disciplines in one body of work: The final stage of development

The final stage of development took place when we fine-tuned the mixing of the digital tracks. Eric knew exactly which sound combinations, colours and shapes would maximize the effect he was looking for, whereas I knew exactly how I wanted to balance the sounds to create textures that would capture, maintain and nurture the children’s attention, without distracting or overloading them. What has stayed with me is the way that we were able to combine our expertise from different musical disciplines to create a collection of 20 pieces that train children’s executive functions over a period of 100 minutes, spread over ten weeks.

Our ‘Dinosaur’ tune has a mesmeric effect. Many children have told me that they believed that the dinosaur was real because they thought the music ‘took them to a different world’. For older children, ‘Something Funky’ has created quite a commotion as the children were certain that they had heard the exact same music in their video games. We were delighted that we had managed to create resources that felt familiar enough to chime with musical preferences of the adolescents.

The most challenging resources are also more complex musically and provide KS3 pupils with a real sense of achievement and musical reward. Our Gladiator tune has the relentless drive of a sci-fi movie sound track, complete with opulent harmonies and brass fanfares. Supported by epic proportions of the cinematic sound worlds, they realize how fluent they have become. This is because the appeal of the music creates a huge incentive to stay in lockstep with the resources. The structure of the programme enables its success by building control and competence week by week so that by week ten, pupils have a genuine feeling of musical accomplishment, beyond anything they may have expected.

When the music plays and a child's face changes

I am always humbled when I see a child’s face change in front of my eyes, as their usual tension disappears. A brightness and eagerness floods their eyes and surprised smiles. Their body language expands.The brightness in their face increases, and their voice becomes more resonant.

Behind the immediacy of rapid progress and the enhanced sense of belonging that group music making brings, there are deeper changes that take place. Learning barriers dissolve, not because we break them down, but because they are surrendered by each child as they choose to participate in a group activity and let go of their usual caution, wariness and analysis of each situation. The sense of holding back is gone and they discover that everything has become easier and clearer.

This isn't about the music. It's about the children and their teachers.

So, what are the implications all of this? Well, although I have spoken a lot here, about writing music in a particular way, I want to clarify something. This isn’t about the music. This is about the children and the teachers. The music was written so that when the resources are used, the children elect to work as a group, guided by the rhythm. They stay in time because they want to read the very simple musical notes together as a team.

A different post is needed to cover this, but the way the music was written keeps this belonging effect consistent. This is what happens when neuroscience and music meet as part of a rhythm-based reading intervention. This is why we see lasting change. When children move, chant and read in time with music that has been designed to activate executive function (and therefore reading), academic attainment improves alongside confidence and a sense of belonging.

The most remarkable thing

It is remarkable when a child is working at the edge of their capacity without realizing it. We cannot help but notice their earnest focus and complete loss of self-consciousness. There's just the movement, the music and the imaginary world they have discovered.

This is not a happy accident. It's by design. Through neuroscience and musical artistry, two creatives worked together without compromise to build something that neither could have accomplished alone.

Best of all children don’t realize how intently they are focused during the programme because they are enjoying it so much.

If you lead a school or trust where some children are not yet reading well and this story has made you curious, you might like to join my free webinar, where I explore how rhythm activates reading and transforms outcomes for children of all ages.

🎓Register for the free webinar → here