This song was scientifically designed to soothe babies — and 470 million streams prove it works这首歌经过科学设计,能够安抚婴儿——4.7亿次的播放量证明了它的有效性。
Imogen Heap, two scientists and 26 babies made a song. A decade on, it’s still averting meltdowns.

As father to both a toddler and an infant, the din of tearful wailing — theirs, not mine (usually) — is the soundtrack to approximately half of all car journeys. I get it. Trapped wind, claustrophobic car seats and long scary tunnels are all legitimate reasons to cry when you’re barely big enough to see out of the window.
Like most desperate parents, my wife and I have resorted to jangling keys, scrunching whatever crunchy objects are to hand and offering sing-songy reassurances in unnaturally high-pitched voices. Or, in resignation, we would just mentally tune out until reaching our destination.
But then we were introduced to an anti-crying device so powerful that I’ve felt compelled, ever since, to share it with every parent I know. It is a work of both science and sorcery: “The Happy Song.”
From the opening outbreak of joyous giggling, its soothing effect on my kids is instantaneous. And this is entirely by design.
The two-and-a-half-minute song, which celebrates its 10th anniversary this week, was a collaboration between two psychologists and the Grammy Award-winning (and otherwise very grown-up) musician Imogen Heap. Combining established research on what makes babies happy with the results of infant focus groups, the catchy melody, walking bassline and playful lyrics are almost hypnotic, stopping nascent meltdowns in their tracks.
Over the last decade, “The Happy Song” has been streamed over 470 million times on Spotify — more than Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On” and Simon & Garfunkel’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water.” On YouTube, a continuous 10-hour loop of the song, uploaded by some kind soul, has alone garnered 14 million clicks.
“The Happy Song” is now among the biggest royalty-generators for an artist who, in addition to her solo career, comprises one-half of the duo Frou Frou and co-produced Taylor Swift’s “1989.”
“I never thought in advance, ‘Oh, this is going to make me loads of money from all the babies in the world,’” she laughed, reflecting on the track’s enduring success, via video call, from her London studio. “I just really wanted to make a song that gave a few minutes’ relief to a family at a point when they’re stuck in a traffic jam or whatever.”
“The Happy Song” was commissioned by British baby food brand Cow & Gate, though its corporate origins have largely faded from view. In 2016, the company tasked music psychologist Lauren Stewart (who had previously researched “ earworms, ” the catchy tunes that get stuck in our heads) and child development psychologist Caspar Addyman (author of “ The Laughing Baby ”) with producing a happiness-inducing song to give away to parents. They in turn approached Heap, a musician known for embracing technology — and who, at the time, had an 18-month-old child of her own.
The pair offered Heap various science-backed recommendations, from using major keys and melodic repetition, to musical devices like drum rolls and rising pitch glides that induce anticipation and surprise. Stewart and Addyman meanwhile surveyed more than 2,000 parents to identify noises their babies responded to, which included animal sounds and other children’s laughter (both of which feature in the song). Their initial brief also suggested singing in “Motherese,” the voice we naturally adopt when talking to babies.
“It separates the vowel sounds and makes things a bit easier to follow; it helps babies know that you’re talking to them and not somebody else in the room,” said Addyman, joining the video call with Heap. “And you want to stick to things that babies themselves are capable of pronouncing,” he added. “So ‘plosive’ sounds like ‘pa’ and ‘ba’.” (As opposed to “sonorant” ones, like “la.”)
Armed with these recommendations and her own parental instincts (“as a mom,” Heap said, “you just intuitively feel what would be nice, and what felt too trite”), the musician got to work. But the science didn’t stop there. After she composed four different main melodies, the researchers then tested them, at two different speeds, on a focus group of 26 babies aged 6 to 12 months old.
Participants’ movements, facial expressions and vocal reactions (along with a little interpretation from accompanying parents) suggested a clear winner. “They really had a strong preference,” said Addyman, reporting that around 80% of the babies preferred the melody that Heap eventually built “The Happy Song” around.
Later, more developed iterations of the song were again tested on the babies. In one session, they listened to versions of the song at different tempos and, to Addyman’s surprise, opted for the (slightly) slower one. The researchers had initially suggested that Heap use a fast tempo to reflect infants’ heart rates, which are typically higher than adults’, but the theory clearly had its limits. “There was a fast one and a very fast one,” said Addyman. “I was convinced that faster is always better for babies, but actually it was the not-very-fast one that the babies preferred.”
“When you’re making a record, you never get feedback,” added Heap, who welcomed participants’ honest and unadulterated opinions. “Usually, you’re just sitting in the studio going, ‘Is this any good? Is this any good?’ So having these reports come back was just so inspiring and motivating — best audience ever.”
For all the science involved, serendipity played a part, too. The winning melody was inspired by a ditty sung by Heap’s daughter, Scout. “She gets royalties in other ways,” joked Heap when I ask whether the now-11-year-old gets a share of the spoils.
In fact, Scout’s influence is found throughout the song. Lyrical references to a bicycle, submarine, helicopter, choo-choo train, airplane and “rocket to the starrrrs” were inspired by her obsession with transport at the time. Scout also provided the laughter at the start, and was present during Heap’s recording sessions, helping her mother achieve more natural “motherese.”
Yet, the magic of “The Happy Song” is not just that kids like it. Unlike the rest of the children’s-music-industrial-complex (looking at you, Cocomelon), I don’t hate it. I find myself humming it on the stairs and while making coffee. It’s an earworm. And while I can’t say I’d listen to “The Happy Song” if I didn’t have kids, I have done so, willingly, hundreds of times.
“I’m aware of the songs that drive parents nuts,” Heap said, adding that she wanted to write something that “wasn’t too grating and that had some funny bits.”
This is achieved by lyrics that are aimed, partly, at adults. The line most frequently stuck in my head (“I just adore-dore-dore you every day more”) is something that I feel, not them. I don’t care about the wheels on the bus turning, or the inventory of Old MacDonald’s farm, but I do care about loving my kids. “I wanted there to be truth to it, and I wanted it to be fun,” Heap said of the lyrics.
Carlos Gonzalez/Rolling Stone/Getty Images
This approach also worked for babies, who need not be patronized, Addyman added. “I think the key thing behind the success of ‘The Happy Song’ is that it’s not talking down to them,” he said.
Heap said she never really promoted the song, but it has nonetheless been discovered by new generations of parents through word of mouth (or desperation, while frantically searching online for ways to stop a baby crying). When it comes to kids’ songs, parental approval is, perhaps, the most effective marketing tool around. After all, we’re the ones picking the music… for now.
In the decade since the song’s release, Heap has been thanked by countless strangers (including me at the start of our interview). Among them were a parent at her daughter’s school who recognized her on account of her voice alone and a dad on an airplane whose baby had been crying non-stop for over an hour.
“I was like, ‘Oh my god, oh my god. Do I try it? What do I do?” she recalled thinking on the flight, before — bashfully and apologetically, as she tells it — offering the despairing man the song on a pair of headphones. “I was like, ‘So… shall I play it?’ I played him the song, and the baby heard the laugh at the start and was immediately caught. Just a total change of demeanor.
“The dad was almost in tears and just so thankful for this moment to gather himself.”
作为两个孩子的父亲,我既要照顾蹒跚学步的幼儿,又要照顾婴儿,所以,大约一半的乘车旅程都伴随着他们(通常是他们,而不是我)的哭闹声。我完全理解。胀气、狭窄的汽车座椅和漫长而可怕的隧道,这些都是孩子哭闹的合理理由,尤其当他们个头小到只能看到窗外的时候。
和大多数走投无路的父母一样,我和妻子也只能使出浑身解数:摇晃钥匙,揉搓手边任何能发出嘎吱声的东西,用异常尖锐的嗓音唱着歌安慰孩子。或者,无奈之下,我们干脆放空自己,直到到达目的地。
但后来我们接触到了一种神奇的止哭神器,从那以后,我就一直想把它分享给我认识的每一位家长。它既是科学的结晶,也是魔法的体现,那就是“快乐之歌”。
从孩子们最初爆发出的欢快咯咯笑声开始,它对孩子们的安抚作用立竿见影。而这完全是我有意为之。
这首时长两分半钟的歌曲本周迎来十周年纪念,它由两位心理学家和格莱美奖得主(同时也是一位非常成熟的音乐家)伊莫金·希普共同创作。歌曲融合了关于如何让婴儿快乐的既有研究成果和婴儿焦点小组访谈的结果,其朗朗上口的旋律、律动的贝斯线和俏皮的歌词几乎具有催眠般的魔力,能够迅速平息即将发生的情绪崩溃。
过去十年间,《快乐之歌》在Spotify上的播放量超过4.7亿次,超过了马文·盖伊的《让我们开始吧》和西蒙与加芬克尔的《忧愁河上的桥》。在YouTube上,一位好心人上传的这首歌的10小时循环播放版本,就获得了1400万次的点击量。
《快乐之歌》如今已成为这位艺术家收入最高的版税来源之一,除了个人事业外,她还是二人组合 Frou Frou 的成员之一,并参与制作了泰勒·斯威夫特的歌曲《1989》。
“我从没想过,‘哦,这首歌会让我靠全世界的宝宝赚很多钱,’”她笑着说,一边在伦敦的工作室通过视频通话回顾这首歌经久不衰的成功。“我只是想创作一首歌,能让一家人在堵车或其他什么情况下放松几分钟。”
《快乐之歌》是由英国婴幼儿食品品牌 Cow & Gate 委托创作的,但其背后的商业背景已鲜为人知。2016 年,该公司委托音乐心理学家劳伦·斯图尔特(她曾研究过“耳虫”,即那些令人难以忘怀的旋律)和儿童发展心理学家卡斯帕·阿迪曼(《爱笑的宝宝》的作者)创作一首能让人感到快乐的歌曲,赠送给父母。他们随后联系了希普,一位以拥抱科技而闻名的音乐人——当时她自己也有一个 18 个月大的孩子。
两人向希普提供了一系列基于科学依据的建议,包括使用大调和旋律重复,以及运用鼓点滚动和音调上升等音乐技巧来营造期待和惊喜感。与此同时,斯图尔特和艾迪曼调查了2000多名家长,以确定他们的宝宝会对哪些声音做出反应,其中包括动物的声音和其他孩子的笑声(这两种声音都出现在歌曲中)。他们最初的简报还建议用“妈妈语”唱歌,也就是我们与宝宝说话时自然而然使用的语调。
“这样可以区分元音,让发音更容易理解;也能帮助宝宝知道你是在跟他们说话,而不是跟房间里的其他人说话,”艾迪曼一边和希普视频通话一边说道。“而且你要尽量选择宝宝自己能发音的音,”他补充道,“比如像‘pa’和‘ba’这样的爆破音。”(而不是像‘la’这样的响音。)
有了这些建议和她自身的为人父母的直觉(“作为一位母亲,”希普说,“你会凭直觉感觉到什么好听,什么又太俗套”),这位音乐家便开始着手创作。但科学研究并未就此止步。在她创作了四首不同的主旋律后,研究人员又以两种不同的速度,对26名6至12个月大的婴儿进行了测试。
参与者的动作、面部表情和声音反应(以及陪同父母的一些解读)都清晰地表明了获胜者。“他们的偏好非常强烈,”艾迪曼说道,并表示大约80%的婴儿更喜欢希普最终创作《快乐之歌》所依据的旋律。
之后,研究人员再次对婴儿们测试了这首歌的更多版本。在一次测试中,婴儿们聆听了不同节奏的歌曲,令艾迪曼惊讶的是,他们选择了(稍慢一些的)版本。研究人员最初建议希普使用较快的节奏来反映婴儿的心率,因为婴儿的心率通常比成人高,但这种理论显然存在局限性。“有一个快的版本,还有一个非常快的版本,”艾迪曼说,“我一直认为对婴儿来说,速度越快越好,但实际上,婴儿们更喜欢速度稍慢的版本。”
“录制唱片的时候,你根本得不到反馈,”希普补充道,他很欢迎参与者们坦诚直率的意见。“通常情况下,你只能坐在录音室里,心里想着,‘这好听吗?这好听吗?’所以收到这些反馈真的非常鼓舞人心,也激励着我——这是我遇到过的最好的听众。”
尽管其中涉及诸多科学原理,但偶然因素也发挥了作用。最终胜出的旋律灵感来源于希普的女儿斯考特演唱的一首小调。“她会以其他方式获得版税,”当我问及现年11岁的斯考特是否也能分得一杯羹时,希普开玩笑说。
事实上,Scout 的影响贯穿整首歌。歌词中提到的自行车、潜艇、直升机、小火车、飞机以及“火箭飞向星空”都源于她当时对交通工具的痴迷。Scout 还贡献了歌曲开头的笑声,并在 Heap 的录音过程中全程陪伴,帮助母亲创作出更自然、更具“妈妈腔”的歌曲。
然而,《快乐之歌》的魅力不仅仅在于孩子们喜欢它。与儿童音乐产业的其他作品(说的就是你,Cocomelon)不同,我并不讨厌它。我发现自己会在上下楼梯时哼唱它,也会在煮咖啡时哼唱它。它简直太洗脑了。虽然我不能说如果没有孩子我会听《快乐之歌》,但我已经心甘情愿地听过几百遍了。
“我知道有些歌曲会让父母抓狂,”希普说,并补充说她想写一些“不太刺耳,而且有一些搞笑片段”的歌曲。
这首歌的歌词部分是面向成年人的,这便是其成功之处。最常在我脑海中萦绕的一句歌词(“我每天都更加爱你”)表达的是我自己的感受,而非他们的感受。我不在乎公交车的车轮转动,也不在乎老麦克唐纳农场的存货,但我真心爱我的孩子。“我希望歌词既真挚动人,又充满乐趣,”希普谈到歌词时说道。
卡洛斯·冈萨雷斯/滚石杂志/盖蒂图片社
艾迪曼补充说,这种方法对婴儿也同样适用,不需要用居高临下的态度对待他们。“我认为《快乐之歌》成功的关键在于它没有居高临下地对待他们,”他说。
希普说她从未真正推广过这首歌,但它还是通过口口相传(或者说是绝望之下,在网上疯狂搜索如何让宝宝停止哭闹的方法)被新一代的父母们发现了。对于儿童歌曲来说,父母的认可或许是最有效的营销手段。毕竟,现在还是我们自己在选择音乐……至少目前是这样。
这首歌发行后的十年间,希普收到了无数陌生人的感谢(包括我,在采访开始时就向她表达了感谢)。其中包括一位在她女儿学校的家长,仅凭声音就认出了她;还有一位在飞机上的父亲,他的宝宝已经哭了一个多小时。
“我当时想,‘我的天哪,我的天哪。我该试吗?我该怎么办?’”她回忆起在飞机上的想法,然后——正如她所说,带着羞涩和歉意——用耳机把歌放给那位绝望的男士听。“我当时想,‘所以……我放给他听吧?’我放了那首歌,宝宝听到开头的笑声,立刻就被抓住了。整个人的态度都完全变了。”
“这位父亲几乎热泪盈眶,他非常感激能有这段时间让自己平静下来。”