Growing up playing piano and violin, music has always felt like a shared language between my family and me. Over time I started hearing it as something carefully constructed, shaped through small decisions that change its emotional direction in subtle ways. Although I tend to gravitate toward certain genres, I’ve found myself appreciating almost all kinds of music in different ways. What has stayed constant across time and styles is the way I listen; I’m always drawn to the beat or structure of a song. The way chords settle beneath a vocal line or how a rhythm lingers instead of rushing forward often stays with me longer than anything else.
Here are some songs that especially attract this way of listening.
1. Billy Joel: “Vienna”
This song resists urgency in a very intentional way. Nothing is rushed and that lack of pressure becomes the whole point. The slow pacing forces you to sit inside each moment longer than you expect to, and you start noticing how much of the emotion exists in what isn’t immediately happening. Even the silence between phrases becomes apparent, doing as much work as the melody itself.
2. Frank Ocean: “Ivy”
This one feels like a distant memory that shifts slightly every time it comes back, as if you’re catching fragments of something that keeps slipping away. Nothing really locks into place, and the harmony keeps changing while you’re listening — like you’re trying to remember something but can’t fully hold onto it.
3. Frank Ocean: “Bad Religion”
It circles around instead of moving forward, which is what makes it feel so unresolved. The same emotional idea keeps returning without release, almost like the song is trapped in its own loop. It doesn’t try to escape that space, it just keeps revisiting it from different angles.
4. SZA: “Good Days”
The gentle opening of birds and calm water sets the mood immediately. It never really seems to land anywhere; instead, it hovers just above resolution with a feeling of arriving but never fully settling. The calm stays suspended, like the song is holding its breath instead of releasing it.
5. Steve Lacy: “Dark Red”
This has been my ultimate comfort song since COVID-19 back in 2020. It’s simple in terms of structure, but that simplicity pushes you to listen closer to everything underneath it. Every small chord change feels louder than it should, beckoning your attention deeper into details you wouldn’t normally notice. There’s always this sense of anticipation, like something is about to happen, even when nothing ever does.
6. Frank Ocean: “Pink + White”
Like many on this list, I love listening to this song while driving along the beach. It moves with a weightless flow, not really heading toward any final destination. Everything blends together without resistance, creating this floating quality as the words pass through you. The soft production ties it all together.
7. Daniel Caesar (feat. H.E.R.): “Best Part”
“Best Part" is stripped down to its rawest form. You can almost picture Daniel Caesar and H.E.R. sitting together, singing back and forth, their vocals sitting extremely close to each other. Both voices complement each other so naturally that the song just exists in a steady, unbroken line. Its simplicity makes every small shift feel intentional without ever needing to announce itself.
8. Ravyn Lenae: “Love Me Not”
This was the first song I heard by Ravyn Lenae, and I was initially drawn to how effortless it feels. With its jazz undertones, the song is constantly reacting instead of following a fixed path. The shifts in tone and rhythm act like small adjustments in real time, with each note building onto the next as if the song is constantly recalibrating itself.
9. Daniel Caesar (feat. Kali Uchis): “Get You”
This last one has a steady beat the entire time, almost locking everything else into its own rhythm. Nothing disrupts its flow, so the emotion comes less from change and more from the consistency of its structure. It unfolds in a controlled, continuous way, ending without a sense of resolution but still feeling complete.
Most of R&B works aren’t only connected by genre, but the way they’re built through space, pacing and structure. Those choices shape what lingers after they end.
You can find the playlist here.
‘Solar Flare’ is a weekly playlist column where Sun contributors spotlight a slice of musical taste with the campus community. It runs every Monday.
Mikayla Tetteh-Martey is a member of the Class of 2027 in the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences. She is a staff writer for the Arts & Culture department and can be reached at mtetteh-martey@cornellsun.com.
