How do our brains turn sound waves into the music and voices we hear?

Right now, the air around you is trembling. Someone speaks, a guitar string twangs, a kettle whistles — and each of those sends tiny waves of pressure rippling out, squeezing and stretching the air like an invisible accordion. None of that is "sound" yet. It's just shoved-around air. The miracle is how a soft, squishy ball of you turns that jostling into a voice you recognize or a song you love.
The journey begins at your ear — the part you can grab. That curvy flap isn't just for holding glasses. Its dips and ridges act like a little funnel, scooping passing sound waves and steering them down a narrow tunnel into your head.
