People relate to me, and I try to make songs that make people

Hear the words of Olly Murs: “People relate to me, and I try to make songs that make people smile.” In these words lies the essence of what it means to be an artist: to serve as a bridge between souls, to transform one’s own voice into the shared language of many. The gift of song is not merely melody, nor the craft of rhythm—it is the power to bind strangers together in a single heartbeat. And when that power is wielded not for pride, nor for glory, but to bring forth a smile, then the work becomes sacred, for it heals the weary and uplifts the burdened.

The ancients knew this well. Among the Greeks, the poets and bards were not trivial entertainers—they were custodians of memory, teachers of virtue, and bearers of hope. They sang of wars and gods, yes, but also of love, of longing, of joy. Their music bound city-states and consoled those who mourned. So too does Olly Murs understand that when people say they relate, it is because his songs echo their own hidden truths. A singer’s power is not in perfection of tone, but in resonance of heart.

Consider the story of the American folk singer Woody Guthrie. He traveled dusty roads during the Great Depression, carrying only his guitar, singing songs for the poor, the broken, the forgotten. His melodies were simple, but they stirred souls because they spoke of shared struggle. They gave the powerless strength, and, in moments of despair, they gave them reason to smile. This is what Olly Murs speaks of—not music as ornament, but music as kinship, as the sound of one voice joining with another to remind us we are not alone.

The smile itself is no small matter. A smile is a universal sign of hope, a spark of joy that requires no translation. When a song brings forth a smile, it is as though the singer has planted light in the listener’s heart. And this planting is not in vain, for joy multiplies. A man who smiles because of a song carries that warmth into his home, his friendships, his work. One smile begets another, until a chain of unseen blessings spreads through the world. Thus, the singer becomes more than performer—he becomes a cultivator of joy.

Yet this path demands humility. For to truly reach others, one must be authentic. If an artist sings only for fame, the people will not relate; they will hear the emptiness beneath the sound. But if he sings with truth—his flaws, his triumphs, his laughter, his sorrow—then the listeners see themselves within him. In that recognition, walls fall, and connection is born. Olly’s words remind us that the task of the artist is not to stand above the people, but among them, as one who shares their journey.

The lesson for us all is simple yet profound: strive to create moments that bring others joy. Whether through song, word, craft, or simple kindness, aim not only to impress, but to make people smile. To give another person joy is to add light to the world, and this light, however small, can pierce through even the heaviest darkness.

So let this wisdom be carried forward: seek always to be relatable, not in pretense, but in truth. Use your gifts, whatever they may be, to awaken the smile in others. For when you do, you fulfill one of the highest callings of humanity—not merely to live, but to help others live more brightly. And in that, your song, your life, your very presence becomes a blessing to all who encounter it.