The heart bleeds music no matter what, and it bleeds different

Hear now the voice of Joey Jordison, the warrior of rhythm whose drums thundered like storms: “The heart bleeds music no matter what, and it bleeds different types of music.” This is not the speech of a man bound to one sound, but the declaration of one who has seen the truth of music’s eternal flame—that it flows like blood through the soul, unstoppable, and it takes many forms, for no single song can contain the whole of human spirit. His words remind us that music is not owned by genre, nor chained by expectation, but born from the very pulse of life itself.

The ancients knew this truth. Long before the names of genres were spoken, the shepherd’s flute called across the fields, the warrior’s drum sounded before battle, and the hymns of devotion rose in temples of stone. These were not separate, competing tongues, but one great river flowing into many streams. The heart bleeds music as it bleeds joy, sorrow, triumph, and despair—and thus, different songs emerge to carry each emotion. One heart may weep in blues, roar in metal, dance in folk, and soar in symphony, yet all are threads woven from the same eternal cloth.

Consider the life of Ludwig van Beethoven. Though born into the realm of classical form, his heart burned beyond boundaries. He wrote symphonies that thundered like storms and whispered like prayers, music that held both fury and tenderness. He could not hear the sound with his ears, yet within his chest the heart bled music in a flood so powerful that it reshaped all of Western sound. Though he did not play thrash or rock, the truth remains the same: the music was many-faced, for his heart knew more than one voice.

So too with Joey Jordison himself, known first for the ferocity of Slipknot, where drums became weapons of fire. Yet even he walked paths of melody beyond metal, exploring softer textures, varied rhythms, and diverse sounds. His quote is the confession of one who understood that to love music truly is to honor all its forms. To claim only one genre as “pure” is to cage the heart, to deny its nature. The heart bleeds different types of music, because the human soul itself is not one-dimensional. It is grief and joy, fury and tenderness, shadow and light.

The warning, then, is clear: beware of narrowing your ear, of clinging too tightly to walls of taste and identity. Many scorn what they do not know, saying, “This music is not mine,” forgetting that it springs from the same human longing as their own. To reject all but one sound is like refusing to see the rainbow and choosing only gray. Joey’s wisdom calls us to humility: to honor the diversity of sound is to honor the diversity of the soul itself.

Let this truth be your guide: when you hear a song unlike your own, do not turn away, but listen. Ask yourself, “What wound of the heart does this music heal? What story does it tell?” In this way, your own heart grows wider, your understanding deeper. You need not love all music the same, but you must recognize its sacred origin—that it flows from the human spirit, bleeding endlessly into the world.

Practical wisdom follows: open your ear to new sounds; sit in silence with songs you do not yet understand; let your playlist be a garden, not a cage. Explore what is foreign, for often it speaks to parts of your soul you did not know were waiting. And when you create, do not fear mixing traditions, for the heart itself is a vessel of many rhythms. The world needs your voice in all its variety, not in narrowness.

So remember Joey Jordison’s words: The heart bleeds music no matter what, and it bleeds different types of music. Carry this torch within you. Let your heart sing without chains, let it roar in thunder, whisper in prayer, and dance in joy. For in honoring the many forms of music, you honor the fullness of life itself. And in doing so, you, too, will leave behind a legacy of sound that continues to beat long after silence has claimed the body.