In the past week, I’ve listened and thought a lot about a song called Feeling Good. I’ve found myself in a rabbit hole, obsessively tracing how the song has evolved and how it has been reimagined for different generations of listeners.
The song originally appeared in the musical The Roar of the Greasepaint — The Smell of the Crowd, in a pivotal moment where a Black character successfully triumphs over the social games rigged by the White ruling class.
While the musical itself wasn’t a huge hit, the song quickly took on a life of its own. Most famously, it was recorded by Nina Simone, who crafted it into an anthem of the Civil Rights movement. Her soulful voice sounds almost like that of a caged bird, who croons and wails in her tireless faith in freedom.
Over the decades, the song has been reinterpreted by many artists, each bringing a unique emotional lens. Michael Bublé’s version, for instance, leans into the classic big-band style, with a polished feel-good swagger. It plays like a personal soundtrack to someone leaving a bad chapter behind, and stepping into a brighter one of success, love, or newfound self-assurance.
Perhaps the most interesting rendition, though, is one performed by Muse, who drags the song into a darker and futuristic realm. It is featured as one of the final tracks on their album The Origins of Symmetry, which explores themes of dystopia, entropy, and alienation in an increasingly mechanized and hollow society. And within this sonic architecture, Feeling Good comes in as a daring statement to assert your humanity, in a time where feeling anything at all is a radical act.
I guess the reason why this song has resonated with me so much recently, is that I’ve realized how I’ve always been terrified of change, even though I know that change itself is the only constant in life — as cheesy as that sounds. This makes me terrified of life, and at times, it can feel like it’s too much to bear.
But there’s something comforting about listening to Feeling Good, especially through the different voices and eras. There’s the changeless reminder that you can choose to feel good, even and especially when the world says you shouldn’t.
The line “It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life” particularly hits home for me. To me, this doesn’t sound like delusional positive thinking. It sounds like a decision — a deliberate resolution to meet the day, not necessarily because everything is better, but because you choose to. To stand in your own skin, however weathered, and keep going, at least for another day.
I’m reminded of the “dawn chorus”, or a phenomenon where birds sing just before sunrise. Scientists say that birds do this to tell one another that they’ve made it through another night, that they’re still here.
I like to think that this is what Feeling Good is. It’s our dawn chorus to sing. It’s our way of saying we’re still here.
