Summary: An English translation of Inuit poems collected primarily by the Danish ethnologist Knud Rasmussen on his expedition from Greenland to the Bering Strait.

From the author of The Changing Mind and The Organized Mind comes a New York Times bestseller that unravels the mystery of our perennial love affair with music ***** 'What do the music of Bach, Depeche Mode and John Cage fundamentally have in common?' Music is an obsession at the heart of human nature, even more fundamental to our species than language. From Mozart to the Beatles, neuroscientist, psychologist and internationally-bestselling author Daniel Levitin reveals the role of music in human evolution, shows how our musical preferences begin to form even before we are born and explains why music can offer such an emotional experience. In This Is Your Brain On Music Levitin offers nothing less than a new way to understand music, and what it can teach us about ourselves. ***** 'Music seems to have an almost wilful, evasive quality, defying simple explanation, so that the more we find out, the more there is to know . . . Daniel Levitin's book is an eloquent and poetic exploration of this paradox' Sting 'You'll never hear music in the same way again' Classic FM magazine 'Music, Levitin argues, is not a decadent modern diversion but something of fundamental importance to the history of human development' Literary Review

Tell you, reader, no shit, I could damn near write a freaking book in and of itself on how much I’ve been dogged by self-publishing book companies, but I never will. Nope, this is it for me. Cash me in, baby. I am like SO done with this bullshit. But before bailing, I do want to give it up to AuthorHouse for being my last ever book publisher. Regarding this quite short nonfictional book you are now holding, it simply consists of a list of my songs, written between August 2011 through July 2012, together with a collection of my printed thoughts. Songs reveal a good deal of what is inside a person’s soul as do written thoughts. And I do believe there is measurable depth of both dredged up and processed into the contents of these pages, I should like to think considerably deeper than “Jack Handey’s” thoughts. But even if they ain’t, what can I tell you? Ah fuck it, just call me ‘Jack.’ Peace. Late.