Audiolyze (Verb): How Musicians Mentally Hear the Next Note Before Playing It
audiolyze
verb
/ˈô-dē-ə-ˌlīz/
To actively search for a musical sound in the mind before you play it.
Not passive recall. Not vague memory. Audiolyzing is the internal hunt for the right pitch or chord, using a blend of auditory memory, spatial mapping, instinct, and correction. You don’t just hear the note. You reach for it.
It’s what happens when you know the sound is close but not locked in yet, that moment when your brain triangulates tone, shape, and feel before your fingers commit.
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How to Use It
“I couldn’t tell if the next note was D5 or E5, so I stopped to audiolyze it.” “She can’t play the passage clean yet, but she can audiolyze the melody.” “Before I try the left-hand jumps, I need to audiolyze where they land.”
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What It Isn’t
This is not audiation.
Audiation is passive. A replay.
Audiolyzing is active.
It’s searching. Choosing. Navigating sonic space before your hands move.
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Origin Story: The Night the Word Formed
The idea for audiolyze first surfaced on a night that had nothing to do with music practice and everything to do with family. My dad had finally returned home after a tough stay in skilled nursing care brought on by Parkinson’s complications. My mom, still recovering from her own injury and reliant on oxygen, hadn’t been able to see him much while he was away. For weeks I’d been trying to hold everything together. I was helping them regain strength, keeping their spirits steady, and running my own life in the background.
That evening the three of us watched Hachi: A Dog’s Tale. Loyalty. Time. Waiting. I felt the weight of their aging, the fear of losing them, and the strain of carrying responsibility that doesn’t let up. It hit harder than I expected.
Later, when the house finally went quiet, I opened my piano app and pulled up Silent Night. I was still new to the instrument and stumbling through the notes. I’d land one pitch, then completely miss the next. I could sense the right sound hovering just out of reach — not memory, not visualization, but something in between.
I wasn’t replaying the note in my head.
I was searching for it.
Feeling around for the shape of a tone I hadn’t fully learned yet. Trying to locate the sound the same way you reach for a light switch in the dark.
That’s the moment the verb arrived.
One clean word for that strange, instinctive process.
Audiolyze.