Yes, it’s been almost one full year of being locked up at home. This week has particularly felt like a slugfest for me, not feeling motivated enough to even leave the couch. However, we can’t lose sight of the fact that there will be an end to this “new normal” — perhaps sooner than we think.
In the last month, COVID-19 cases have sharply decreased, a third vaccine is on its way, and health experts have suggested that life may slowly start to resume again by this summer. For now, I’m powering each day with thoughts of safely seeing friends and family (at a six-foot distance) and venturing to new beautiful places.
Hope can feel like a very elusive thing, though it isn’t something that waits for us — we have to choose it ourselves. To fuel that hope, I created this playlist as your engine for believing in something better.
Here’s a breakdown of my top songs:
“Road to Nowhere,” Talking Heads (Little Creatures, 1985)
When choosing music rooted in joy, you probably wouldn’t consider a song about the apocalypse. (I know how this looks, but I swear, I don’t exclusively listen to doomsday music.) Ironically enough, Talking Heads manage to deliver both with “Road to Nowhere,” a new wave track that’s built on existential overtones and two-chord dance riffs.
Backed by a gospel choir, David Byrne gives confident vocals that disconnect with his dark lyrics as he explores the unknown in each verse (Taking that ride to nowhere / We'll take that ride / I'm feeling okay this morning / And you know / We're on the road to paradise). In spite of its grim nuances, this song appears to subvert the notion that all unhappy endings must be greeted with anguish. It sounds almost as if Byrne is encouraging us to find joy in the moments that feel absolutely hopeless and to believe that we will fulfill our purpose even when there’s no clear path ahead.“My Prerogative,” Britney Spears (Greatest Hits: My Prerogative, 2004)
In case you’ve been unplugged during quarantine, the New York Times recently investigated Britney Spears’ 12-year conservatorship with an episode of its docuseries. Among the episode’s many testimonies were two major revelations: Britney took full control in building her career as a pop icon — until the media seized that power to rewrite her narrative. You can even hear that confidence on her early albums, which deserved much more praise at the time since she was still so young.Instead of choosing this obvious banger, I wanted to feature Britney’s cover of Bobby Brown’s “My Prerogative,” which she released about three years before her media-induced breakdown. Through a feminist lens, Britney took a brave stance by recording her version of a song that was originally performed by a male artist, almost setting up its reception to expose the double standard. The song opens with Britney whispering a message (People can take everything away from you / But they can never take away your truth / But the question is / Can you handle mine?) before she proceeds to brush off public criticism of her sexuality and life choices (Everybody's talking all this stuff about me / Why don't they just let me live? / I don't need permission, make my own decisions).
In hindsight, Britney almost foretells how she will lose that truth and autonomy with this conservatorship, fighting for both in court years later. I like to think that she has lived off the conviction heard in this song as a way to survive these 12 years of tight monitoring. If Britney can endure an oppressive authority for more than a decade, solely on the hope that she will reclaim her independence, then we can persist knowing that we will all have our old lives again in due time.
“Wait for the Moment,” Vulfpeck (My First Car, 2013)
If you’re looking for a good mood, then I would recommend adding funk outfit Vulfpeck to your rotation. The group’s catalog of playful jams ranges from the silly to the wholesome, the latter of which can be heard on the opening track of their 2013 EP, My First Car.From the outset, “Wait for the Moment” sounds like a simple song about a young boy turning in for the night while his friends continue to play outside. The song glistens with an ebullient note of promise — courtesy of vocalist and collaborator Antwaun Stanley — for the fun that’s waiting tomorrow (Trying to get my friend excited / About not being invited / I say: "That's an opportunity!") It’s a very simple story of hope through a child’s eyes, reminding us to never lose that sense of wonder as we grow older and the stakes feel higher.
Similarly, Vulfpeck’s story is one of hope. Thriving on cult fandom, the group managed to leverage their sleeper status into a headlining show at Madison Square Garden in 2019. Earlier that year, I caught their set at Lockn’ Festival and I cannot express enough how much of a good time they bring in their show.
“A Change Is Gonna Come,” Otis Redding (Otis Blue, 1965)
In recognition of Black History Month, I felt inspired to close out this mix with my favorite version of this profound civil rights anthem. Following a year of strife, activism and breakthroughs, it felt necessary to revisit this song’s message, reflecting on how far we’ve come and how much further we need to march.Originally recorded by Sam Cooke, “A Change is Gonna Come” was later released by Otis Redding as a tribute to Cooke one year after his murder. In this version, Otis’ signature wail charges up the song’s power just in the first few notes, expressing the struggles and fears of his marginalized life (I was born by a river in this little old tent / Oh just like this river I've been running ever since / It's been a long long, long time coming / But I know, but I know a change is gotta come). As the song dives deeper into his pain, Otis reprises that critical pivot in each verse (But I know a change is gonna come), fueling his need to survive all while dreaming of a brighter future.
The beauty (and tragedy) of this song is its fortitude, especially in the way that it continues to motivate the disenfranchised as they stake their claim in society at large. Hopefully, there will be a day when we as a people may retire this song — not to give up on its message, but because we have made good on its promise.