What caught my attention, however, was not so much the venue or even the spectacle of the celebrations. It was the announcement that this year's parade would feature one of the largest civilian participations in recent years. I think this is a positive step towards making National Day feel more like a celebration by Singaporeans, for Singaporeans. After all, what is a nation if not its people? We can have the grandest stage, the most elaborate light displays and the most spectacular fireworks, but at the heart of it all should be the people who call this place home. The more opportunities we create for ordinary Singaporeans to participate in the celebration, the more we reinforce the idea that this country belongs to us, and that we are not merely spectators watching a national story unfold before us. We are part of that story.
Perhaps this is also why the conversations surrounding this year's National Day songs caught my attention. For the first time, instead of relying on a single theme song, the organisers released three original songs under the Go Beyond: NDP 2026 Album. There was Giants, performed by Iman Fandi and written by weish; Sparkle, performed by Gareth Fernandez and Dru Chen; and You'll Be Okay, performed and co-written by Jasmine Sokko. According to the organisers, the different musical styles were intended to reflect Singapore's diversity and offer Singaporeans more variety. It was an interesting departure from tradition, and I think the intention deserves recognition.
Unfortunately, the response was far from universally enthusiastic. Some listeners found the songs difficult to sing along to, while others felt that they lacked the familiar qualities associated with National Day anthems. In its coverage of the debate, CNA Lifestyle reported criticism of the songs' use of autotune, their melodies and their relative lack of immediate memorability compared with some of our older favourites. Music veterans Dick Lee and Jeremy Monteiro also weighed in on the discussion, offering perspectives on the relationship between contemporary musical styles and the expectations people have of National Day songs.
I can understand why some Singaporeans were disappointed. National Day songs occupy an interesting place in our collective memory. They are not merely songs commissioned for an annual event, performed once and forgotten when the fireworks are over. At least, that is not what we hope they will become. The really successful ones eventually find their way into our lives, resurfacing during school assemblies, community celebrations and National Day gatherings. Some of us can probably still remember the melodies of songs we learnt as children, even if we have forgotten what we had for breakfast yesterday.
When we hear Home, We Are Singapore or Count on Me, Singapore, many of us do not need to consult a lyric sheet before joining in. These songs have become familiar through years of repeated listening and singing, and they carry memories that extend beyond the music itself. They remind us of school, childhood, family gatherings and the experience of growing up in Singapore. A new song does not have the advantage of those accumulated memories. It has to establish its place in our lives, and it cannot simply demand the same emotional response because it has been designated a National Day song.
This is why I think the criticism deserves to be taken seriously. We should ask ourselves what makes a song resonate with Singaporeans, and why some songs seem to connect with us across generations while others struggle to leave a lasting impression. Is it the melody? The lyrics? The ease with which an ordinary person can sing along? Or is it the way a song captures something about our lives that we recognise but have never quite found the words to express?
The answers may not be straightforward, because Singapore today is very different from the Singapore of thirty or forty years ago. Our musical tastes have changed, our cultural influences have expanded, and the ways we consume and relate to music have transformed considerably. What worked for one generation may not necessarily work for the next. Even the things we assume have always worked may turn out to have been less universally loved than our collective nostalgia would have us believe.
Take the three songs released this year. Giants explores growth and the journey from uncertainty towards finding one's voice. Sparkle leans towards a brighter, energetic pop sound, while You'll Be Okay embraces electronic pop and offers reassurance in the face of change. They are different songs with different musical identities, and it would be unfair to expect them to appeal to precisely the same listeners. The decision to release three songs rather than one was, in itself, an acknowledgement that Singaporeans do not all listen to music in the same way.
Yet there is a distinction between a song that represents contemporary musical tastes and one that works as a national singalong. These two things can overlap, but they are not necessarily the same. A song may be artistically interesting, professionally produced and perfectly suited to an individual performer's style, yet still prove difficult for thousands of ordinary people to sing together. Conversely, a relatively simple melody with lyrics that speak directly to a shared experience can become something extraordinary through the act of collective singing.
Perhaps this is part of the challenge facing anyone commissioned to write a National Day song. The songwriter is not simply writing for an individual listener or an audience at a concert. The song has to work within a national celebration, where people of different ages, backgrounds, musical preferences and singing abilities are expected to find some common ground. It must somehow sound contemporary without becoming inaccessible, patriotic without being preachy, and personal without losing its collective meaning. That is a rather demanding brief, if you ask me.
But while we debate whether this year's songs have managed to strike that balance, I think there is something else worth paying attention to. We should also recognise how far Singapore has come in developing our own pool of musical talent, and consider what it means to give these talents the opportunity to create the songs that will define our national celebrations in the years ahead.
It may surprise some people to learn that several of our most recognisable national songs were written by someone who was not Singaporean. Hugh Harrison, a Canadian songwriter, was responsible for Stand Up for Singapore in 1984, Count on Me, Singapore in 1986 and We Are Singapore in 1987. These are songs that many Singaporeans can still sing along to today, and they have become firmly embedded in our national consciousness. In 1990, One People, One Nation, One Singapore brought together the music of Singaporean composer Jeremy Monteiro and lyrics by Jim Aitchison, an advertising professional.
The National Library Board's BiblioAsia has documented the history of these songs and the efforts to develop music that could help Singaporeans articulate a shared national identity. There is nothing inherently wrong with commissioning someone from overseas to write a song for Singapore. Talent does not become less valuable simply because it comes from somewhere else, and Harrison's contributions have certainly stood the test of time. But it is worth reflecting on the fact that, during our earlier years of nation-building, some of the songs that helped us articulate our identity came from beyond our shores.
Today, we have a growing pool of Singaporean musicians, producers, composers, lyricists and singer-songwriters who are more than capable of telling our stories through their own creative work. We have artists who grew up listening to different genres, absorbing influences from around the world and developing their own interpretations of what it means to live in Singapore. They are creating music that reflects the experiences, anxieties, aspirations and contradictions of the society we have become. Surely, there is value in giving these voices more opportunities to contribute to our national celebrations.
Of course, we cannot discuss Singapore's National Day songs without talking about Home, written by Dick Lee and first performed by Kit Chan at the 1998 National Day Parade. Few songs have managed to capture our relationship with Singapore quite like this one. Its appeal lies partly in the fact that it does not need to shout at us to make us feel something. It speaks of home in a way that is personal and intimate, allowing listeners to bring their own memories, experiences and attachments to the song. For Singaporeans living overseas, it might evoke a longing for familiar places. For those of us living here, it might remind us that home is not necessarily the most exciting place in the world, but it is the place where our lives have unfolded, where our relationships have been formed and where the ordinary things we sometimes take for granted have come to mean something.
However, we should be careful not to turn Home into an impossible benchmark against which every new National Day song must be measured. Dick Lee was already an established musician, but even he could not have known that Homewould eventually become such an enduring part of Singapore's national identity. He wrote it while living in Hong Kong and feeling homesick, and the song's eventual success was not something that could simply be manufactured by following a formula.
More importantly, Home did not emerge in a vacuum. It was the product of a songwriter's experiences, his craft and his ability to translate a personal feeling into something that other people could recognise as their own. We can appreciate the song today without pretending that creating another one of similar significance is as simple as finding a talented composer, handing over a brief and asking for something that will make everyone feel patriotic.
This is precisely why I think our conversations about National Day songs should go beyond deciding whether this year's offerings are good or bad. If we want Singaporeans to create songs that genuinely resonate with Singaporeans, then we need to give our local musicians the opportunities to develop their craft, experiment with different styles and learn from the work they produce. We need to give emerging singer-songwriters the chance to contribute to our national celebrations, not only when they have already established themselves, but also while they are still finding their voices.
That means accepting that not every song will become a hit. Some will connect with audiences immediately, while others might take time to find their place. Some might not work at all, and there is nothing wrong with acknowledging that. Creative work involves experimentation, and experimentation comes with the possibility of failure. If we expect every National Day song to be an instant classic, we risk creating an environment in which the safest option is always to imitate what has worked before. We may end up with songs that are perfectly acceptable, technically competent and entirely forgettable, simply because nobody was willing to take a chance on something different.
We should also recognise that developing a sustainable pool of local talent requires more than commissioning a new song every year. It requires opportunities for musicians to collaborate, to receive feedback, to perform for different audiences and to grow through experience. It means building a creative environment in which emerging artists are not simply invited to participate as a gesture of inclusion, but are trusted with meaningful work and given the support to improve. If we want our musicians to produce work that resonates with the public, we must also give them opportunities to understand that public, to experiment with different ways of connecting with it and to learn from the successes and shortcomings of their work.
Perhaps this is where we can learn something from the debate surrounding this year's songs. Instead of treating public criticism as evidence that local artists are not up to the task, we can use it as an opportunity to ask better questions. What makes a national song memorable? Should it prioritise singability, or should it reflect the musical tastes of the generation it is trying to reach? How do we balance the expectations of older Singaporeans who grew up with the classics against those of younger Singaporeans who may not relate to the same musical styles? And how can we create a process that gives artists room to experiment while ensuring that the songs ultimately serve the purpose of bringing people together?
These are conversations worth having, not because we need to find someone to blame for a song that did not resonate with us, but because we should want our national celebrations to become better reflections of the people they represent. We can disagree about the music without dismissing the musicians. We can acknowledge that a song has not worked for us while recognising that the person behind it may still have much to offer. Most importantly, we can appreciate the achievements of previous generations without assuming that everything worth creating has already been created.
I suppose this brings me back to the idea of civilian participation. If we are serious about making National Day a celebration that belongs to Singaporeans, then participation should not begin and end with the people invited to perform on stage or the thousands who gather in the stadium. It should also include the people who create the music, write the stories, design the performances and contribute to the cultural landscape that gives this country its character. A nation is not built only through the things we construct, the policies we implement or the milestones we celebrate. It is also built through the stories we tell about ourselves, the art we create and the opportunities we make available for our people to contribute something meaningful.
We have spent decades singing songs that remind us who we are. Some were written by people from beyond our shores, while others emerged from the talents and experiences of Singaporeans themselves. All of them form part of our musical history, and there is no need to diminish one to celebrate the other. But if we want the next generation to have songs that speak to their experiences of growing up in Singapore, then we must give them the opportunity to create those songs.
Perhaps the real question is not whether this year's National Day songs will become the next Home. Perhaps it is whether we are building an environment in which the next Home has a chance to emerge.
After all, if National Day is a celebration of what we have built together, then surely that should include the creative voices who will help us imagine what Singapore can become. We have spent decades singing songs that remind us who we are. It may be time to give more of our own people the opportunity to write the songs that will remind future generations, too.
Written by: Adi Jamaludin
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