I have herniated discs and spinal stenosis that make every workout a negotiation. Here's the music that makes me show up anyway and why I think the right soundtrack is doing real physiological work.
I have a complicated relationship with working out. Not the kind of complication where you struggle to find motivation or would rather be on the couch. The kind where if you do not exercise consistently, the alternative is significantly more pain than you are already managing.
I have multiple herniated discs from C1 to T2 and spinal stenosis. The physical therapy and strength work I do is not optional in the way it is optional for most people. Building strength in my neck, shoulders, and core is how I manage nerve compression that would otherwise make playing guitar, performing live, and functioning through a normal day significantly harder than it already is. Missing workouts is not a preference. It is a medical decision with consequences I have learned to take seriously.
Music is the thing that makes me show up when showing up feels like too much. Not as background noise. As an active participant in the process. Here is what I actually listen to and why I think the right music is doing real physiological work rather than just keeping you company.

Why Music Actually Works
This is not just psychology. When you listen to music with a strong rhythmic pulse your motor cortex, the part of your brain that controls movement, synchronizes with the beat. Your stride rate, lifting tempo, and exertion level tend to align with the music rather than fighting it. A song at 140 BPM genuinely affects how fast you move.
Beyond that, music changes how your brain processes effort. The same level of physical exertion feels less demanding when music is present. The distraction is real and measurable. For someone managing chronic pain, where effort is always filtered through a layer of discomfort, that distraction matters more than it does for someone working out from a clean baseline.
The emotional component is the third layer. Music with genuine emotional content, not just high tempo and production, gives your brain something to process alongside the physical work. That engagement changes the psychological experience of a hard set or a long run in ways that tempo alone does not.
What I Actually Listen To
My workout playlist is called Deep Rock on Spotify and it reflects how I actually think about what workout music should do. It is not a collection of the loudest or most aggressive songs I could find. It is a mix of high-energy and emotionally resonant tracks that keep me engaged across a full workout, which for me needs to cover strengthening work, mobility, and endurance all in the same session because my spine does not allow me to compartmentalize.
Foo Fighters Times Like These is the song I come back to most. There is something in the way that track builds, the quiet verse turning into the full band chorus, that mirrors what a good workout feels like when it is going right. Dave Grohl wrote it during a period of rebuilding and you can hear that in the structure of the song. It is not a hype track. It is a persistence track. That distinction matters to me.
Rise Against Satellite is the ultimate song about holding onto purpose when everything around you is working against it. For someone who has been told by doctors to accept limits and has chosen not to, that message lands specifically rather than generically.
Linkin Park Leave Out All the Rest deals with wanting to be remembered for the good you managed to do rather than the mistakes. As a songwriter trying to build something meaningful out of a genuinely difficult physical situation, that particular emotional territory connects during hard sets in a way that pure aggression does not.
Pink Floyd Wish You Were Here is on the playlist not because it is high energy but because it is deeply honest. On the sessions where the pain is worse than usual and I am negotiating with myself about whether today is the day I skip, something that is raw and real keeps me present better than something that is just loud.
Pearl Jam Just Breathe is another one in that category. Soft, reflective, and human in a way that reminds you why the physical work matters. You are doing this to stay in your life fully. That song says that.
Metallica Fade to Black, Soundgarden Fell on Black Days, U2 Walk On. Each of these deals with coming through something rather than around it. That is the emotional vocabulary that fits a workout practice built around managing chronic pain. You are not conquering the discs. You are learning to carry them differently.
My Own Songs on the Playlist
I have put three of my own songs on Deep Rock because they belong there in a way that is not self-promotional. They came from the same emotional territory that makes the workout practice necessary.
Free is about breaking away from the limits other people set for you, including medical ones. I wrote it partially as a message to myself during the worst period of the spine injury when I was being told what I would not be able to do anymore. It goes on the playlist as a reminder of where that song came from.
Mistakes came from recognizing patterns and choosing not to repeat them. In the context of physical training that means the pattern of stopping when it gets uncomfortable, of using the injury as a reason rather than a fact to navigate around. The song reminds me that awareness of a pattern is the first step to breaking it.
Tears is the one that deals with what happens when you finally stop suppressing what you are actually carrying. For men especially, the cultural pressure to treat pain, physical and emotional, as something to push through without acknowledging is real and counterproductive. That song exists because I needed to say that out loud. It goes on the workout playlist because the honesty in it is motivating in a different way than anything aggressive.
Out of My Shell — The Song About Anxiety and Showing Up
Out of My Shell was written during a period when I was managing serious anxiety alongside the physical situation. For years I stayed quiet in rooms where I should have spoken up and let opportunities pass because the combination of physical pain and the psychological weight it creates made staying small feel safer than reaching for things.
That song became a turning point. Writing it was part of how I processed the decision to stop hiding behind comfort and treat discomfort as evidence of progress rather than a signal to retreat. I put it on the playlist now because the version of me that wrote it is further away than the version of me that needed to write it, and hearing it reminds me how far that distance is.
You can find it on tonyosomusic.com/music and on all streaming platforms.
Building Your Own Workout Playlist
The principle I would give anyone building a motivational workout playlist is this: choose songs that push you rather than just comfort you, but do not confuse aggression with motivation. The songs that have kept me showing up through a spine injury are not the loudest ones on the playlist. They are the most honest ones.
Tempo matters for the physical synchronization I described earlier. Songs in the 120 to 140 BPM range tend to work well for strength training. Higher for cardio if that is where your workout goes. But within that tempo range, choose songs that mean something rather than songs that are just fast. The meaning is what carries you through the sessions when the tempo alone would not be enough.
The Deep Rock playlist is on Spotify under Tony Oso if you want a starting point. It is built for exactly the kind of training I am describing: not the loudest or most aggressive version of motivation, but the most sustained and honest one.
And if you are managing chronic pain and trying to figure out how to keep a physical practice alive around it, I understand that specific situation better than most music recommendations you will find online. The workout is not optional. The music is part of what makes it possible. Find the songs that are honest about difficulty and watch what they do for your capacity to show up anyway.