Capitel I: I Troldskog Faren Vild (Chapter I: Led Astray In The Troll Forest in English, apparently) is the opening track to Ulver’s iconic Bergtatt album inspired by Scandinavian folklore. It’s sung in Norwegian, which I don’t speak at all, and yet you don’t need to know the words to feel that melancholic and eerie mood the song perfectly encaptures.


Although I don’t understand a single word of this song, I find it really groovy. It always gets me on my toes. You might say it is because I adore Hala al-Turk, but the credit goes to the musicians as well for putting up such a rhythmic composition.


Among all the songs I don’t understand, my heart goes to Sémaphore by Requin Chagrin. There’s something free, immense, and heart-warming in it, and altogether it sounds like only a youth could. It’s sung in French, which according to a common stereotype is the language of love, and that only adds to the charm. Frankly, I’m afraid to read the lyrics so as not to ruin the magic by accident: I called it a day when Google said that the band’s name literally means “a sad shark.”


Last year, I discovered Spotify’s Equal Global playlist and was swept off my feet with all the diversity abound there. One song that gradually became an earworm and is still circulating between my playlists is Zew (which, apparently, means Call) by Polish singer Natalia Przybysz. Although its energizing beat instantly makes your walk determined and powerful, there is still this element of longing that you can’t quite place even after you’ve read the translated lyrics. It is truly a mystery of a song.


But what about Macarena? Ok, so half of it is in English, but when it was blasting out of every speaker, there was no Google Translate on my phone to decipher the refrain, and I sang along with the Spanish part just fine. I was mostly doing it in the elevator going to our flat on the 12th floor, so most of the time no Spanish speakers heard me, at least that I know of. Thank God. I’ve never looked up the translation but it doesn’t keep me from singing this firecracker hit in my kitchen, with a spatula for a mic.


One mysterious cat, “whisky”, and “the king of the divan” – I might have no clue what’s going on in Ca Plane Pour Moi by Plastic Bertrand but the energy, the vitality it’s overflowing with is everything. It’s an instant pick-me-up that will light up even your gloomiest day and get you moi-ing and uuu-ing before you know it.