Coffee and Music: Crisis and Creation

From the rich chambers of the rising sun, Where arts, and all good fashions first begun, Where earth with choicest rarities is blest, And dying Phoenix builds her wondrous nest, Coffee arrives, that grave and wholesome liquor, That heals the stomach, makes the genius quicker, Relieves the memory, revives the sad, And cheers the spirits, without making mad.

—Brief Description of the Excellent Vertues of that Sober and Wholesome Drink Called Coffee (1674), Anonymous

This charming poem, featured in musicologist John A. Rice’s 2007 article ‘Music in the Age of Coffee’, illustrates the relationship between coffee and the creation of music. Rice argues—and he is not alone in this assertion—that the introduction and popularization of coffee in Europe ignited a wave of ‘manic intellectual and artistic creativity’. He cites several renowned classical musicians who were positively hooked on coffee, relying on it as their ‘creative drug’. In fact, coffee appears to have played a role in the composition of some of Europe’s musical masterpieces.

For instance, just two months before his death in 1791, Mozart wrote to his wife: ‘… then I had Joseph summon Primus and bring me black coffee, with which I smoked a wonderful pipe of tobacco; then I orchestrated almost all of Stadler’s rondo.’ Thus, while coffee first arrived in Europe as a medicine and spice, it ultimately enriched more than just palates, invigorating as it did the spirit of an era. Rice elaborates:

One of the most remarkable and distinctive features of musical life in eighteenth-century Europe was the astonishing level of productivity achieved by many of its composers. The sheer number of major works written by Antonio Vivaldi… J. S. Bach, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven and many others reflects, in part, the century’s predominantly optimistic, energetic mood… It was probably no coincidence that this age of almost manic intellectual and artistic creativity was preceded by the introduction into Europe of a drug that, although not isolated and named until 1819, thoroughly pervaded eighteenth-century life.

Coffee and music, then, emerged as ‘allies’ in 18th-century Europe, with coffee contributing to the creation of some of the era’s most defining compositions. This partnership, of course, did not begin at that time, but we will return to that later. For now, let us jump forward two centuries. (We will be doing a lot of time-jumping; I hope you’re suitably caffeinated.)

Researchers in sensory science have introduced the intriguing concept of ‘crossmodality’, which refers to our brain’s ability to integrate information from various sensory modalities—sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell—into a cohesive experience. Particularly relevant to our discussion here, Professor Charles Spence from Oxford University’s Crossmodal Research Laboratory and his colleagues have demonstrated how music can affect our perception of flavour.

This research has inspired a variety of marketing strategies, including the idea of ‘sonic seasoning’. In a 2019 article published in 25 Magazine, Spence explains that sonic seasoning refers to ‘the surprising impact that certain pieces of music [or] soundscapes have been shown to have on the tasting experience.’ For example, high-pitched music has been shown to enhance sweetness in bittersweet foods, while low-pitched music (such as brassy tones) can intensify bitter flavours. Spence and his colleagues have not only conducted research but have also partnered with industry professionals to create ‘creamy music’ designed to highlight smoothness in chocolate.

Why jump from 17th-century salons to 21st-century sonic labs and creamy music? These two anecdotes serve as a delightful overture to our subject: the relationship between coffee and music, and how each influences the other. Although the term ‘sonic seasoning’ is modern, humans have been enhancing their coffee experiences with sound for centuries, ever since the introduction of coffee as we know it today.

The melody of coffee

Let’s travel back in time (again). Early coffee-making in the Middle East often coincided with music-making. Even today, Bedouin coffee ceremonies incorporate the act of grinding as both an art form and a test of musical ability. This practice is described by Alois Musil in his 1928 work The Manners and Customs of the Rwala Bedouins: ‘the noise made by the mortar and pestle, hess al-mihbas, is heard everywhere in the vicinity, and the people give their opinion as to whether these sounds are regular and artistic or not. The pounding of coffee is an art, and musical ability is judged according to the way in which it is done.’

In the Middle East, music and coffee further intertwined in the region’s—and the world’s—first cafes. Many 16th-century Middle Eastern cafes stayed open well into the night, serving as venues for entertainment. As described by William Ukers in his book All About Coffee:

… the inhabitants of Mecca became so fond of the beverage [coffee, N.B] that, disregarding its religious associations, they made of it a secular drink to be sipped publicly in kaveh kanes, the first coffee houses. Here the idle congregated to drink coffee, to play chess and other games, to discuss the news of the day, and to amuse themselves with singing, dancing, and music, contrary to the manners of the rigid Mahommedans, who were very properly scandalized by such performances.

The association of coffee with music and other forms of entertainment raised significant concerns among local religious authorities. In 1511, coffee was famously put on trial after Mecca’s governor, Kair Bey, discovered a group of men drinking coffee in the mosque courtyard, which he deemed a blatant neglect of their religious duties. At a council meeting, Kair Bey voiced his chief complaint, as cited by Ukers: ‘in these places men and women met and played tambourines, violins, and other musical instruments… here were many other things done contrary to our sacred law—may God keep it from all corruption until the day when we shall all appear before him!’ Hence, the initial blend of coffee and music was seen as ‘anti-establishment’, a sentiment that persisted with the emergence of Europe’s first cafes.

Coffee as harmony

As coffee and cafes made their way from the Middle East to Europe, new connections between coffee and music began to form. The introduction of coffee to Europe in the 17th century quickly sparked enthusiasm among the elite and royalty. Historian Jonathan Morris notes in his book Coffee: A Global History that coffee was embraced by the courts of Vienna and Versailles after emissaries from the Ottoman Empire introduced it, served by specialized waiters.

From the royal courts, coffee spread to urban areas, leading to the emergence of cafes in in the mid-17th century. These establishments were not just places to drink coffee; they evolved into centres of culture. Café le Procope, which opened in 1689 opposite the newly established Comédie Française theatre, became a creative hub for artists, playwrights, and musicians of the time. With the proliferation of cafes, niches developed, giving rise to Europe’s 18th-century musical coffee houses, where classical music was played and enjoyed.

The open, relatively democratic, and sociable atmosphere of the cafes provided an ideal environment for artistic creativity to flourish. Coffee emerged as an effective fuel for writing and composing, thanks to the psychoactive and stimulating effects of caffeine. Honoré de Balzac quoted Italian composer Rossini, who said, ‘Coffee is a matter of fifteen or twenty days: luckily the time to make an opera’ (in his Traité des excitants modernes of 1838, quoted in Rice 2007). For some composers, coffee became an obsession and an essential source of sustenance. According to Rice, coffee was Beethoven’s primary source of nutrition, which he prepared with meticulous care, counting 60 beans for each cup.

Thus, coffee and music once again became allies in Europe, contributing to what historical musicologist Sean Colona described as ‘an idealized version of the intellectualised human, contradicted to the “animal” or the “savage”.’ In this context, coffee-drinking and music were seen as two intellectual pursuits that reflected how 18th-century Europeans envisioned themselves—as cultured individuals, empowered to create. Burkhard Schwalabch echoes this sentiment in his 2012 philosophy PhD thesis, suggesting that coffee and music were intertwined as culturally refined practices among 18th-century intellectuals, integral to their concept of the idealized, intellectualized human of the epoch.

Allied in resistance

Much like in the Middle East, coffee’s reception in Europe was met with both enthusiasm and scepticism. Here, music once again became an ally, supporting coffee’s claim to legitimacy. One of the most famous examples is Bach’s ‘Schweigt stille, paludert nicht, BWV 211’, commonly known as the ‘Coffee Cantata’ (composed 1732–35). The cantata tells the story of young Lieschen, who implores her father to grant her two wishes: permission to indulge in coffee and to marry her beloved, though the latter seems secondary to her one true love, coffee. The humorous cantata allowed Bach to address the contemporary tensions surrounding coffee consumption in early 18th-century Germany. As coffee was still a relatively new beverage in European culture, it sparked moral and health concerns. Through his composition, Bach united music and coffee in a call to empower the youth to enjoy the pleasures of modernity.

Jumping (sorry!) a hundred years forward, let us journey from the German North Sea across the Atlantic and along the Pacific coast to Japan, where we find another compelling example of music and coffee uniting in resistance. Coffee first arrived in Japan during the late 17th century through trade with the Dutch, but it only became a cultural phenomenon as Japan opened its gates to the outside world in the late 19th century. Here too, coffee came to symbolize modernity, embodying the spirit of change and modernity flowing from the West. Along with coffee came the country’s first coffee shops, and during the 1930s, a local genre emerged: the kissaten. While today’s kissaten (shortened to ‘kissa’) are seen as traditional cafes, these venues initially represented modernity, featuring Bauhaus-inspired designs and staple dishes like ‘pizza toast’, which introduced curious Japanese of the era to Western flavours and aesthetics.

During the postwar era, sub-genres of the kissa began to emerge, many aligned with popular musical styles. In the meikyoku kissa, patrons enjoyed classical music in nearly concert-hall conditions. The dansu kissa played music for dancing, while the utagoe kissaten provided safe spaces for leftist activists to chant communist revolutionary songs. The ongaku kissa featured live or recorded music of various genres. However, the most famous of all is probably the jazz kissa, a listening bar where jazz was played, mainly from vinyl records carefully selected by the owner, who also meticulously curated the coffee, typically served black or as filter coffee. According to anthropologist Merry White, the connection between jazz and coffee was rich with meaning:

As coffee was the aroma and taste of the era, so jazz became ‘the soundtrack of modern life.’ It connoted a new set of social values, mores, fashions, gender relations, and consumer interests. And behind all of that were the political and economic volatilities of a time when nothing seemed the same. The transformation of material culture into modan seikatsu was accomplished as much in kissaten as anywhere—where the middle-class customer, literary intellectuals, and aesthetes met, expanded their tastes, or took refuge.

Coffee is a vibe(ration)

Music and coffee ‘collaborated’ in many ways throughout the 20th century. In the United States, different musical genres captured the significance of coffee drinking for North Americans. Popular music researcher Jon Stewart explored this connection in his 2012 article ‘Oh Blessed Holy Caffeine Tree: Coffee in Popular Music’. He analysed coffee-themed jazz standards like ‘Black Coffee’ and Frank Sinatra’s ‘The Coffee Song’, as well as folk and rock tunes such as Bob Dylan’s ‘One More Cup of Coffee’. In these songs, coffee emerges as a companion for the lonely or broken-hearted in a rapidly changing world. In country music, coffee is depicted as a steadfast ally for the blue-collar American worker, energizing truck drivers on long night drives and invigorating nine-to-five wage earners.

As coffee shops began to serve as workspaces in the latter half of the 20th century, the connection between coffee, music, and work deepened. In the late 1990s, the much-cited-in-these-pages American sociologist Ray Oldenburg argued that contemporary coffee shops fulfil important social functions similar to those of historical cafes, dubbing them ‘third spaces’—places that are neither home nor workplace, but something distinct. However, with the rise of laptops and their acceptance by chains like Starbucks and later third-wave coffee shops (though many now limit laptop use), coffee shops have paradoxically become places where people seek focus and isolation rather than social interaction. Acknowledging this trend, many cafes—both chains and independents—began to adapt their design and soundscapes to better accommodate work. A simple Google Scholar search for ‘coffee and music’ yields a surprising number of research articles examining the impact of coffee shop music on consumers’ concentration and productivity.

Some extend this idea further by theorizing that cafes represent a new form of soundscape. In her 2021 article ‘The Coffee-Office: Urban Soundscapes for Creative Productivity’, sound researcher Milena Droumeva argues that urban cafes have evolved into ‘coffices’, creating an auditory environment that facilitates creative labour, particularly for freelancers and knowledge workers. She posits that coffee shops, as soundscapes, blend moderate noise levels (around 70 decibels) with social ambiance to foster ‘creative cognition’—the ability to perform creative work This perspective is both surprising and revealing. Using the framework of acoustic ecology, Droumeva proposes that cafes can be understood as localized sonic ecosystems, urging us to observe the specific sonic characteristics of cafes across different cities or neighbourhoods and how they reflect broader urban, social, and economic patterns.

Coffee, then, is not simply a taste experience; it encompasses atmosphere, mood, and a vibe (or perhaps even vibration). As these elements increasingly shape consumer preferences (see sociologist Eva Illouz’s work on ‘emodities’—the commodification of emotional experiences), there is a growing focus on curating and creating these vibes through the careful selection of music that accompanies the coffee-drinking or coffee-shop experience.

From the drip to the drop

While it may appear that music has faded into the background in contemporary coffee shops—regardless of how thoughtfully curated the playlists are—some are working to bring music back to the forefront of the cafe experiencer. One example is the emergence of barista-DJ collectives hosting daytime parties in cafes, such as the newly founded Parisian BrewFm, which joins existing local collectives like Am.Radio, Cofi Club, CTRL+, Club Tartine, and Croissound (lucky Parisians!). These daytime, sometimes alcohol-free parties reflect the ongoing trend among young people to consume less alcohol, offering coffee as an alternative ‘party drink’ (or drug)—a shot of energy without the drop. And on this high note, we can conclude: coffee and music have much to offer one another, as seasoning, as support, and as multi-sensory experience.