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Primordial Rhythms: Tapping Into Ancient Sound

  • Writer: Svamin Kajaria
    Svamin Kajaria
  • Oct 13
  • 4 min read

(Part 5 of The Science & Art of Listening series)


Before Words, There Were Beats


Let’s get the nerdcore stuff out of the way first. Deep inside our embryonic beginnings sits something extraordinary: a central rhythm generator, active even before we’re born. This generator aligns with the rhombomeric organization of the embryonic hindbrain (say that three times fast). Translation? Even before we draw breath, our neural architecture is tuned to pulse.


Each rhombomere expresses a unique set of genes that later shape our rhythmic behaviours—breathing, chewing, walking, even the way we rock ourselves to sleep. Rhythm, in other words, is not something we pick up like a hobby. It is coded into us.

And maybe that explains why humans everywhere, across all times, are irresistibly drawn to the drum. Archaeologists unearthed a 5,000-year-old alligator-skin drum in China, and cave paintings from roughly the same era depict dancers gathered around instruments. Rhythm predates language. It predates melody. It is the oldest signal we share—a primordial pulse connecting us all.


Rhythm Is Gonna Get Ya!

Rhythm Is Gonna Get Ya!


Anthropologists suggest rhythm may have been the glue that bound early human communities. Imagine: before we strung words into sentences, before we made fire into metaphor, we had beats. Finger tapping, chest thumping, synchronized stomping—early humans used rhythmic codes to coordinate hunts, prepare for battle, soothe infants, or summon the sacred.


Rhythm worked where words did not. It communicated intent, rallied courage, and transmitted emotional states across groups.


And here’s the beautiful part: rhythm is universal. West African drum circles, Polynesian chants, Celtic bodhrán beats, Native American powwow drums—every culture on Earth has woven percussive traditions into its story. Unique in sound, shared in function.

Where words divide, rhythm unites. It was our first language.


The Body’s Natural Metronomes


Let’s bring this closer to home. Even before birth, you were a rhythmic being. The first sound you ever heard was your mother’s heartbeat—steady, life-sustaining, intimate. After birth, rhythm multiplies: the inhale-exhale of breath, the swing of a walk, the pattern of chewing. Our bodies are living metronomes.


Neuroscience adds a fascinating detail here: the tempo range most humans naturally align with falls between 60 and 120 beats per minute—the same as our heart rate, from resting to active. That’s why certain music feels instinctively “right.”


Play John Mayer or Arijit Singh and your body slows, syncing into restful states. Put on a dance track at 120 BPM and suddenly your body is bopping to the beat! This is not coincidence. It’s biology. Rhythm is less about preference and more about pulse.


Ancient Instruments, Modern Echoes


Now, zoom out to culture. Every society has answered the call of rhythm with its own instruments.

  • The mighty djembe and talking drums of West Africa, both musical and conversational.

  • The pandeiro, congas, and bongos of Latin America, pulsing with carnival energy.

  • The tabla of India, where a single player can conjure a symphony of complex cycles.

  • The thunderous taiko drums of Japan, played in unison to embody discipline and power.

  • The daf of Persia and the bendīr frame drum of Morocco, used in ceremonies and healing rituals.


Different woods, skins, and techniques—yet the same impulse: to take the internal heartbeat and make it audible.


Instruments, in this sense, are less about sound and more about storytelling. Each drum is a vessel carrying ancestral memory, a reminder that rhythms and sound is not just entertainment alone but ones cultural DNA.


Rhythm and Trance States

Rhythm and Trance States


If you’ve ever been to a rave, a music festival, or even a religious procession, you know rhythm can sweep you up and out of yourself. Science has a term for this: entrainment (Brain + entertainment)


Neuroscientists have shown that repetitive drumming alters brainwave activity, often spiking theta waves—the same state associated with meditation, dreaming, and heightened creativity. Four cycles per second of drumming can literally nudge your brain into a trance.


Shamanic cultures have long used repetitive beats to bridge the earthly and the spiritual.


Sufi dervishes whirl to rhythmic chants, and yogic practices align breath with mantra.


When you lose yourself in the rhythm, when your body sways unconsciously to a beat, you are participating in one of humanity’s oldest—and most sacred—technologies.


Finding Your Inner Rhythm


Here’s the thing: rhythm isn’t just cultural history. It’s also personal practice and importantly, accessible to everyone.


Try this:

  • Clap or tap along to a simple beat and notice how quickly your body finds its comfort zone.

  • Go for a walk or hit the treadmill while listening to tracks of varying tempos. Notice how your stride shifts, how your mood follows.

  • Join a drum circle or percussion workshop. (I’ve done this. It’s fun. It’s messy. It’s profoundly bonding.)


What you’ll discover is that rhythm doesn’t just entertain—it regulates. It grounds. It reminds us of the shared pulse we carry.


Do We Still Need the Beat?


In a word: yes.


We can’t do without rhythm. It calms a racing mind. It energizes lethargy. It builds community, whether at music festivals, carnivals, or religious parades.


The most vivid example? Queen’s iconic Live Aid performance in 1985. For 21 minutes, Freddie Mercury had 72,000 fans at Wembley Stadium—and nearly 2 billion people across 130 countries—chanting and clapping in sync. “Ay–oh,” he sang. And the world answered.

Bodies became instruments: stomping, clapping, chanting. The human collective vibrated to a single beat. Strip away the cameras, the stage, the glitter, and you’ll find the same fire circle of 40,000 years ago. Rhythm is both our inheritance and our future.


It is our oldest language, our most reliable tether, our most enduring form of communion. So, the next time you feel the urge to drum your fingers on a desk, stomp your feet, or dance without thinking—don’t dismiss it. You are syncing with the ancestors.


Next in the Series


Part 6 – Audio vs Video: The Battle for Your Attention


In the age of video overload, can audio still hold its ancient power? Next time, we’ll explore the battle of senses: Audio vs. Video.

 
 
 

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