SIMON and Garfunkel sang about the sound of silence but it’s harder to find than ever today when we surround ourselves with music.

Whether we are driving, taking public transport or making dinner we love to block out the world with our favourite tunes.

That’s all very well – and I’m not averse to a kitchen dance or singing along to music in my car – but being forced to listen to other people’s musical taste can be torture.

And it’s everywhere: in restaurants, pubs and thumping out in gyms, where it’s no wonder most people wear headphones. I keep meaning to bring my own to work out but inevitably forget and endure mind-numbing pop songs at top volume.

And soon, very soon, as tills start jingling for you-know-what time, the agony will extend to shops playing Slade, Bing Crosby and all the usual festive suspects on a teeth-jarring loop.

In my younger days, I was never happier than in a nightclub where the music was played at deafening levels but I was at the age when dancing and having a carry on were top of the list in clubs, not having a conversation.

Chatting was for pubs and, even then, I avoided the ones that played loud music. One of the very few benefits of the Covid restrictions was music being banned in Scottish restaurants and pubs because of the risk of people leaning into each other and speaking more loudly to be heard over the music.

The hospitality industry hated it, with James Thomson, who owns The Witchery by the Castle restaurant and the Prestonfield House Hotel in Edinburgh calling the ban “ridiculous”.

“Having no music at all is the kiss of death in terms of atmosphere for us and there is no logic behind such a blanket ban,” he told the BBC last year when the ban came in. “We need background music to kill the deathly hush as people feel they have to start whispering when a restaurant is quiet. Diners want to eat out in a place with atmosphere, not a library.”

Maybe recorded music does fill the gaps for those couples – we’ve all seen them – who eat in silence, grimly munching through course after course without even looking at each other.

And it can create a pleasant atmosphere. I used to love going to Rogano in Glasgow (sadly closed at the moment) as it quietly played the kind of moody, soulful jazz by Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald that seemed to fit so well with the 1930s elegance of the art deco bar and restaurant.

But one person’s idea of ambient music is another’s hell. In pubs and restaurants, the simple solution to avoid straining your voice to be heard over recorded music is to go elsewhere, but it can be hard to find a quiet place to talk, especially when you’re seated underneath a speaker.

There are sound commercial reasons that bars, clubs and some eateries pump up the volume as the night goes on – experts have found it makes men drink more quickly and loud music stimulates the pleasure areas of the brain to make the happy hormones or endorphins.

Andy McCartney, who owns seven restaurants and pubs in Glasgow, told The Scotsman during the ban that turning the music off changes a venue's entire vibe.

“It feels like one step into the graveyard. I have been in a few places that are not playing music and it feels like that last half hour at the end of the night when they turn the music off and are closing – but all of the time. For bars and restaurants, music is a critical element of creating an atmosphere.”

I’m glad bars and clubs can host live music again, for the sake of musicians and for live music fans like my husband. But you know what you’re getting when you book a ticket to hear a band or singer you like.

We have come to associate loud music with fun, excitement and social cohesion, which is why it’s played at football matches and funfairs. The social masking and adrenaline rush of loud music can also remove inhibitions, allowing us to go wild on the dance floor or sing our hearts out at karaoke.

Cranking up the volume also blocks out the rest of the world and lets you focus on one thing, which is why some people like to study or work to heavy rock, while listening to Mozart is supposed to help you concentrate.

Loud music also drowns out the brain’s other senses and gives relief from painful feelings – just think of Bridget Jones belting out All by Myself when she’s feeling loveless and lonely.

It can also make us feel cooler, which is why you see men – it is mostly men –driving along with their windows down, their music blasting out for all to share. They may think they’re doing the rest of us a favour, introducing us to their impeccable music taste, but it’s irritating being stuck in traffic next to one of these knuckleheads.

Playing your music at top volume in public is a way of taking over a space and owning it – this is my territory, and you’ll listen to my tunes. At least ghetto blasters hefted on shoulders, which were the scourge of the 1980s, are no more, but car stereos playing at ear-shattering levels and groups of teenagers sharing tinny music on their phones are just as annoying.

I’ll be going out today – pass the earplugs.