Some songs feel permanently tethered to time. Beach House’s “New Year,” from Bloom, is one of them — suspended between reflection and possibility, mirroring a strange emotional quiet that comes in the midst of loud New Year’s Eve bashes, countdowns and fanfare. In other words, it’s the perfect New Year’s song. Bloom is well known as a turning point for the band. Not a reinvention, a refinement. Their sound expanded without losing the dreamlike intimacy that commonly leads to long listens. The album cemented them as more than a cult favorite, exuding a confidence and emotional depth that would define everything else that followed.
“New Year” sits comfortably in that space: restrained, immersive, quietly assured. It drifts rather than drives. Guitars shimmer, drums pulse patiently, and Victoria’s vocals feels less sung than summoned like on so many of their songs. Like a modern-day Nico or Siouxsie Sioux. There’s no rush toward resolution, just atmosphere — a slow unfolding that invites you to sit with it instead of move past it.
“New Year” resists the lure of easy optimism. Instead, Beach House leans into the uncertainty of the new year. The song captures that moment when hope and doubt coexist, and change feels possible but undefined. That’s what makes it so enduring for me. “New Year” doesn’t demand transformation or promise any kind of clarity. It’s the quiet breath before whatever happens next.
"YOU WERE GETTING STRONGER. MEMORIES AGAIN. NOW YOU’RE OPEN WIDER, IT’S BETTER THIS WAY.”