What’s Your Anthem? Why Your Soundtrack Matters
I've always believed life needs a good soundtrack. A mood-setting companion, the background music playing as you flirt, fall, mess up, and—if you're lucky—find something real. For me? It’s a rhythmic, bittersweet playlist of soft beats and bold declarations, each one tied to a slice of my story. So, let’s crack open my personal mixtape. Trust me, it’s not just about my awkward attempt at karaoke to Outkast’s Ms. Jackson (but more on that later).
Life without music feels like coffee without caffeine—technically functional, but where’s the spark? These tracks don’t just accompany my creative process; they’ve shaped how I view relationships, creativity, and even heartbreak. Let me take you on a curated journey. Grab your AirPods or blow the dust off your old-school boombox; we’re about to press play.
Track 1: The Brooklyn Bounce - A Tribe Called Quest, Can I Kick It?
Brooklyn Heights in the ’90s wasn’t just a neighborhood; it felt like the epicenter of cool. Brownstones, stoop kids, and the universal hum of boom bap spilling from car windows. In my house, weekends meant two things: the smell of sage candles wafting from my mom’s yoga nook and my dad’s eclectic playlists ricocheting across the walls—from Billie Holiday to classic hip-hop.
A Tribe Called Quest owned the soundscape of my evenings. Can I Kick It? wasn’t just background noise; it became a mantra. “Can I kick it? Yes, you can!” I'd chant before every big moment, from crushing teenage nerves before asking someone to prom (spoiler: she said yes) to major career moves, like pitching my first anthology.
Does it play in your love life, too? You bet. Confidence in dating often feels like asking, “Can I kick it?” Sometimes, you freeze in your own self-doubt before realizing the universe is yelling back, “Yes, you can!” Whenever I find myself overthinking whether I’m texting someone back too soon—or too late—I hear Q-Tip’s voice in my ear, rapping me back to sanity.
Track 2: First Love, High Drama - Coldplay, Fix You
Every great mixtape needs a heartbreak anthem. Mine? It’s Coldplay. You can judge all you want, but this song deserves its reputation as an emotional wrecking ball—and let’s not pretend you didn’t cry that one time it started playing in a coffee shop.
Picture this: It’s my sophomore year at Yale, and I’m tragically, hopelessly, all-consumingly in love with someone who only viewed me as their go-to guy for proofreading essays on Jacques Derrida. (Love languages are real, but essay editing is not one of mine.) This was also my first introduction to the art of unrequited love, something that Fix You made almost… cinematic.
“That lyric: ‘When you try your best, but you don’t succeed’? Chris Martin knew me personally back then. Or at least, it felt like he did. The silver lining? Heartbreak also taught me that losing doesn’t mean failing; sometimes it means redirection.”
Pro tip: Suffering through your first breakup? Lean into the sad songs. Decide your love life will eventually resemble a pop-rock comeback album—because trust me, it will.
Track 3: Daring and Dreamy - Solange, Cranes in the Sky
Fast forward to my post-Boston life. Solange’s Cranes in the Sky had just dropped, and its dreamy yet introspective vibe mirrored where I was emotionally—floating, searching, building my sense of self. This era of my life was less about romantic love and more about discovering how much joy I could craft on my own.
I was solo-trekking Berlin on my first cultural exchange program, wandering Neukölln with a half-dead phone battery and no itinerary. Cranes in the Sky was the soundtrack of building something richer: a mental playlist of foreign smells, mellow sunrises, and the realization that comfort zones are, let’s face it, boring.
Musically, its jazzy undercurrent always reminds me of flirty, exploratory beginnings—the kind of sparks you feel when making eye contact with a stranger across a bar or swapping sly smiles on a packed train. That balance of smooth coolness and quiet hope stays with me, in and out of dating.
Track 4: The Unexpected Dance Floor Moment - Beyoncé, Love on Top
If you’ve ever seen someone lawsuit-level trip over their own feet mid-spin, you’ve got a mental picture of me the first time I got swept into an impromptu dance-off at a wedding. In my defense, it was Love on Top. Beyoncé’s modulation marathon can turn even the shyest guest into a certified scene-stealer—or, in my case, a wannabe.
But here’s the thing about songs like this: they’re pure, unfiltered joy. My life’s soundtrack isn’t complete without the moments when I stop taking myself too seriously. Whether I’m shamelessly attempting choreography that’s way above my pay grade or re-learning how to trust strangers on the dance floor of life, this track reminds me to loosen up.
A little dating advice here: Perfection is a scam. Tripping wasn’t embarrassing; it was endearing. People love your quirks (even when you’re making a fool of yourself). Let go of the pressure to hit every note or step with precision—stumble spectacularly instead.
Track 5: Rain-Soaked Epiphanies - Radiohead, Reckoner
I once got caught in a storm in Hong Kong while walking back from a too-fancy bar where my date and I had debated modern art (did Van Gogh innovate, or just suffer in public?). As the sky exploded, Reckoner shuffled on in the background. Rain dripping into my espresso-stained blazer, the date walking beside me laughing instead of panicking—I realized I didn’t need the answers. I needed to show up, embrace the mess, and stop treating every interaction like a chess match.
The understated beauty of Reckoner makes it a powerful reminder that not every melody—or relationship—needs clarity or perfection. Sometimes the ambiguity is the magic; sometimes the downpour is just part of it.
Track 6: Triumph for Every Turn - Jay-Z, Empire State of Mind
Coming home to Brooklyn was a revelation. After years of city-hopping, this was where I put down roots again. Empire State of Mind played on repeat as my moving boxes slowly unpacked the pieces of my life. Every lyric seemed like a time capsule, perfect for Brooklyn’s hum of midnight diners and skyline views.
Dating, relationships, building whatever “next big thing” you’re working on—it’s all a hustle and an art. Jay-Z gets it: It’s about being fearless, finding your rhythm, and walking into every situation like you belong. My life has been a flurry of global outlooks and shared playlists, but Brooklyn is where it all clicked.
Conclusion: Your Playlist = Your Story
Here’s the thing: we’re all walking soundtracks. Whether our songs are whispered confessions, bold declarations, or the bad karaoke that haunts us (yes, Ms. Jackson, still sorry), they’re part of who we are.
You don’t have to be a music connoisseur to curate your own life in melodies. Lean into the tracks that reflect your moments of love, heartbreak, triumph, or absurdity. Share them with your partner, your friends, that random Spotify stalker who hearted your playlist. Make space for the music to connect and elevate you.
And remember: your next anthem, just like your next great story, might be waiting around the corner. So press play, adjust the volume, and dance like no one's watching—or, even better, like someone is, and they think you're brilliant anyway.
