Why This Will Be Our Year Still Hits So Hard Every January

Why This Will Be Our Year Still Hits So Hard Every January

It’s that time again. Every December 31st, right as the clock nears midnight, a specific piano riff starts to drift through house parties and Spotify playlists. It’s not a club banger. It isn’t some high-production pop anthem with twenty writers. It’s a scrappy, soulful track from 1968 that almost nobody cared about when it first dropped.

This will be our year song—recorded by The Zombies—is the ultimate underdog of the music world.

Honestly, if you look at the history of the band, it’s kinda heartbreaking. They had already broken up by the time the song even hit the shelves. Imagine pouring your soul into a record like Odessey and Oracle, only to walk away from it because you’re broke and tired, never knowing that decades later, people would be using your work to soundtrack their most hopeful moments.

The Weird History of a "Failed" Masterpiece

The Zombies weren't the Beatles. They weren't even the Kinks. By 1967, they were basically a group of guys from St Albans who felt like their time had passed. They went into Abbey Road Studios—the same place the Beatles were messing around with Sgt. Pepper—and recorded on a shoestring budget. Chris White and Rod Argent, the primary songwriters, were trying to stretch every penny.

They used a Mellotron because they couldn't afford a full orchestra. Think about that for a second. One of the most beautiful "orchestral" sounding albums of the sixties was basically a DIY project.

"This Will Be Our Year" was written by Chris White. It’s short. It’s barely two minutes long. But in those 120-ish seconds, it manages to capture a feeling that most five-minute power ballads miss entirely. It’s not about grand victory; it’s about a quiet, shared resilience. It's the sound of someone saying, "Hey, we had a rough time, but I'm glad I was with you."

Why it sounds like that

The song is famous for that distinctive, slightly "honky-tonk" piano. It’s warm. It’s rhythmic. Most people don’t notice, but the original mono version of the song actually has a horn section that was added later and then mixed out of the stereo version most of us hear today. If you go hunting for the mono mix, it feels a bit more "British Invasion," but the stripped-back version is what really sticks in your brain.

It feels personal. Like a demo that happened to be perfect.

The vocals from Colin Blunstone are arguably some of the best in rock history. He doesn't belt. He breathes. There’s a breathiness to his delivery that makes it feel like he’s whispering a secret to you across a table. "The warmth of your love / Is like the warmth of the sun." It's a simple line. On paper, it sounds like a greeting card. In the song? It feels like a lifeline.


Why the Internet Revived a 50-Year-Old Track

For a long time, the song was a deep cut. It was for the "real fans" who bought the 1968 album Odessey and Oracle. Then, something shifted. The 2000s happened.

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Indie films started looking for music that felt authentic and "vintage" without being cliché. You couldn't use "Yesterday" or "God Only Knows"—those were too expensive and too recognizable. Directors started digging. They found The Zombies.

  • The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel used it.
  • Schitt’s Creek (indirectly through covers).
  • Countless commercials for everything from tech companies to coffee.

Basically, the song became a shorthand for "meaningful transition."

But the real reason this will be our year song stays relevant is how it treats time. Most New Year's songs are about the future—about what is going to happen. This song is about the past. It acknowledges the "long time" it took to get here. It honors the struggle.

Misconceptions about the Lyrics

People often play this at weddings or on January 1st thinking it’s purely optimistic. It's actually a bit more complex than that.

When Chris White wrote it, the band was falling apart. They were losing money. They were playing small gigs while their peers were playing stadiums. There’s a subtle melancholy underneath the piano. When Blunstone sings "all the many times of yesterday," he isn't just talking about a bad week. He’s talking about years of being overlooked.

It’s a song about survival.

And let’s talk about the covers. Oh man, the covers. Everyone has tried their hand at this one. OK Go did a version. The Beautiful South did a version. Foo Fighters even tackled it. But honestly? Most of them miss the mark. They try to make it too big. They add drums that are too loud or guitars that are too crunchy. The magic of the original is the space between the notes. It’s the silence.

The Technical Brilliance of Rod Argent’s Piano

If you’re a musician, you know that the chords in this song aren’t doing anything revolutionary, but the arrangement is a masterclass.

Rod Argent’s piano playing is incredibly disciplined. He isn't showing off. He’s providing a heartbeat. It’s a steady, quarter-note pulse that never wavers. This creates a sense of inevitability. It feels like a clock ticking, but a friendly one.

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The bridge of the song—"And I won't forget the way you held me close"—shifts the melody just enough to break the tension before dropping back into that comforting main riff. It’s a very clever bit of songwriting that makes a two-minute song feel like a complete journey.

The Song's Second Life in the 2020s

Something interesting happened during the pandemic. Streaming numbers for "This Will Be Our Year" spiked.

It makes sense, right? Everyone was stuck. Everyone was waiting for "their year" to finally start. The song became a digital hug for a world that felt like it was on pause. It moved from being a "cool 60s track" to a literal tool for mental health.

Even now, in 2026, the song hasn't aged. Because the feeling of "finally getting there" is universal. It doesn't matter if it's 1968 or 2068. We are always going to want to feel like the struggle was worth it.

A Note on the Recording Quality

If you listen closely to the recording, you can hear the limitations of the era. It's not "clean" by modern standards. There’s tape hiss. There’s a slight distortion when the vocals hit certain peaks.

Don't fix it.

The "imperfection" is why we love it. In an era where AI can generate a "perfect" pop song in three seconds, the raw, slightly grainy sound of The Zombies in 1967 is a reminder that humans made this. They were tired, they were broke, and they were brilliant.

How to Actually Use the Song for Your Own Brand or Content

If you're a creator or a filmmaker thinking about using this will be our year song, don't just slap it over a montage of people smiling. That’s been done.

The song works best when it's contrasted with something difficult. It works when you show the "many times of yesterday" before you show the sun coming out. It’s a song of contrast.

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  1. Match the tempo. The song is roughly 110-115 BPM. It’s a walking pace. Your visuals should feel like they are moving forward, not rushing.
  2. Focus on the lyrics. If your content isn't about a relationship (romantic or otherwise), the song can feel a bit off. It is fundamentally a "thank you" to someone else.
  3. Respect the Mono vs. Stereo. Use the stereo mix for a clean, modern feel. Use the mono mix if you want that gritty, "found footage" vibe.

Actionable Insights for Music Lovers

If you're just discovering The Zombies through this song, don't stop here.

Most people know "Time of the Season" or "She's Not There." But if you want the real soul of the band, you need to listen to the rest of Odessey and Oracle. Songs like "A Rose for Emily" or "Care of Cell 44" occupy that same strange, beautiful space between baroque pop and psychedelic rock.

The Zombies proved that you don't have to be the biggest band in the world to leave the biggest impact. They broke up before the album even came out. They didn't get to see it become a classic. They didn't get to tour it until decades later.

There is a lesson in that.

The work you do today—the "year" you're trying to have—might not pay off tomorrow. It might not pay off next month. But if it’s honest, and if it comes from a place of genuine emotion, it will find its audience. It might just take fifty years.

To get the most out of your listening experience, try to find the 2011 "The Big Beat" remaster or the 50th-anniversary editions. They managed to clean up the low end of the piano without losing that 1960s warmth. Put on a pair of decent headphones, sit in a dark room, and just let that two-minute masterpiece do its thing.

You’ll realize it was never really about the calendar year. It was about the person standing next to you.


Next Steps for the Listener:

  • Audit your playlist: Compare the 1968 Zombies original with the 2004 OK Go cover to see how different production styles change the emotional "weight" of the lyrics.
  • Deep Dive: Listen to "Care of Cell 44" immediately after. It’s the opening track of the same album and sets the stage for the themes of waiting and reunion.
  • Support the Artists: The Zombies are still active and touring (even in 2026!). Check their official site for tour dates—seeing Blunstone and Argent perform this live is a bucket-list item for any music historian.