We begin every January thinking about resolutions, but we never hear anything about what music to listen to while we’re trying to accomplish them. So, we asked Independent staff and contributors to offer up some of their favorite tunes — old and new, well known and obscure — to soundtrack your new year: songs that get you moving, make you feel motivated and optimistic, or simply help you forget all the things you didn’t get around to doing last year. We don’t know what the next 12 months will bring, but here’s hoping this eclectic assortment will at least make them sound better. Listen along on Spotify at tinyurl.com/4v6x5zv4.
‘Cumbia Sobre el Mar,’ Quantic Presents Flowering Inferno
I started this year by listening to Quantic and Flowering Inferno’s “Cumbia Sobre el Mar.” I began last year listening to it as well, and most likely the year before, and the year before that — every year, in fact, since I discovered the song in 2019 via a Spotify playlist. (I hate to admit it, but the song was my greatest discovery that year.) Inspired by cumbia — a musical genre that originated in Colombia through a fusion of African dance rhythms, the flutes and drums of Colombian indigenous peoples, and the later introduction of the accordion by European influences — the song’s relaxed melody conveys the feeling of that narrow stretch of wet beach kissed by the pale blue brine of the sea. “Once I fell asleep on the beach/ and there I dreamed/ that the sky fell down/ in a swarm of stars/ and the silver moon/ upon the waves of the sea/ and splashed me with its light.” (That’s my rough translation of the Spanish lyrics.) It’s the perfect song to get you through the cold. Whenever I listen to it, winter washes away, and the sun warms my vitamin D-deprived skin. The song is my serotonin, my SAD lamp — though that might be worth investing in, too. —Sam Pollak
‘Break My Soul (The Queens Remix),’ Beyoncé (and Madonna)
If you listened to pop music in your youth, certain sounds are embedded in your memories. When you hear them, you experience a jolt of pleasure. The first chord of Madonna’s “Vogue” — nothing but a sort of hum, really — does that for me. My vision sharpens, my spine straightens, and imaginary runways appear before me. When I first listened to Beyoncé’s latest album, Renaissance, I was unaware that a remix of “Break My Soul” includes samplings from “Vogue.” I was in an airport at the time, and before I could register that Bey and Madge had created a collaboration, I was already posing and losing my mind. My reflexive sashay down an airport people-mover must have been quite a sight for my fellow travelers, especially since they couldn’t hear the music. Such is the genius of Beyoncé and her collaborators (10 authors are credited) that they not only sampled one of Madonna’s masterpieces into an already awesome new song, but they expanded upon “Vogue” ’s insistence that defiance and determination are the pillars of self-actualization. In doing so, they created something new and glorious, unique and meaningful. Echoing Madonna’s naming of the Hollywood stars who influenced fashion, Queen Bey shouts out a new list of mostly women of color who have changed the world. The result is a funky, modern paean to pushing through hard times by mining your inner strength. —James Judd
‘Second Child, Restless Child,’ The Oh Hellos
The holidays are over, and here comes the Long Cold. But if I listen to the right music, spring can come early. The song begins with the reckless strumming of the guitar. Like a strong wind, it sweeps me off the couch and sets me on my feet. “See, I was born a restless child,” she sings. I feel like one, too. My legs are stiff from my hibernation, but I want to dance. “I could hear the world outside calling me,” she sings. I pull open the blinds to absorb the midday sun. I will not take for granted these few precious hours of light. “Can you hear it hanging on the wind?” I remember the racket of the birds in April. “Can you feel it underneath your skin?” I imagine how the spring rain will soak into my skin. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. But isn’t this anticipation natural? Pacing the length of my bedroom, I make my resolutions: this year I will run more (probably not), journal more (maybe), and have an adventure (hopefully). Night falls at 4:30. I plant my earbuds in my ears, close my eyes, and think about the sun. —Eve Samaha
‘Fearless (Taylor’s Version),’ Taylor Swift
“Fearless,” the title track from Taylor Swift’s 2008 album, begins with a percussive upbeat. All upbeats must land, and this one does with a kick of a bass drum and a word from the guitar. Along with its simple melody, it immediately makes me bob my head and smile. Swift’s newest album, Midnights, was released last October. Its tone feels bigger than her older stuff: more echoing, her lyrics telling long stories. Even her voice is technologically altered. I like some of the new songs. But I missed the charm of an album like Fearless. The songs are angry, heartbroken, infatuated, euphoric, nostalgic, and sweet. I listen to it on repeat in the car. I listen to it before first dates. I listen to it in front of the mirror. I listen to it in the winter, when I’m missing summer rain. And when Swift sings, “And I don’t know why, but with you I’d dance/ In a storm in my best dress, fearless,” it makes me want to dance in a storm in my best dress, too. —Dorothea Samaha
‘I Gotta Feeling,’ The Black Eyed Peas
Such a joyful song, full of anticipation that something amazing is about to happen. What better anthem could there be for the start of a new year? My approach to music is pretty much about gut reaction, surrendering to the beat as it raises my pulse and spirits and gets my feet moving. This song does it for me. It’s a celebration of escaping from stress and looking forward to an evening of friends and fun. I find the joy infectious. “I gotta feeling that tonight’s gonna be a good, good night….” Being an optimist, I can relate to that sentiment. In fact, I often sing this loudly in the car when setting out on some adventure, as those who know me will attest. —Christine Legere
‘Scratchcard Lanyard,’ Dry Cleaning
The lead single from Dry Cleaning’s debut LP New Long Leg had me from its opening hook: a tight bass line over clapping percussion, followed by a jangle of spiky guitar and squalls of feedback. It sounds like a sonic cocktail of The Smiths, New Order, and Sonic Youth — favorite bands from my adolescence and early adulthood — with a generous splash of post-punk pop. But it’s vocalist Florence Shaw’s deadpan delivery of overheard conversations, stream-of-consciousness observations, and assorted non sequiturs, more recited than sung, that clinched it for me. Even after listening to it dozens if not hundreds of times, I’m always delighted by the randomness of Shaw’s lyrics. It’s the perfect soundtrack for a world where nothing makes sense anymore. And if the constant refrain of “Do everything and feel nothing” (which Shaw apparently lifted from a Tampax advertisement) strikes you as a bit too nihilistic to start your new year with — well, at least it’s got a good beat and you can dance to it. —John D’Addario
