A vintage turntable with a pink vinyl record on a wooden desk, surrounded by pink and yellow decorative objects, vinyl record covers, and artwork with pink and yellow colors.

about the project

It all started when I went on a music diet.

At the end of Summer 2024, my birthday was right around the corner, and I felt an urgent need for personal growth. (You can read more about that here.)

I recalled my resolution for 2019, and how it had helped. For that entire year, I gave up all the music I’d ever heard before. The rule was that I could only listen to familiar songs by happenstance—live performances, on the radio, playing in the background somewhere, etc. Remixes and covers were also acceptable, although they felt like cheating.

The challenge had been grueling, emotional, and frustrating, but full of amazing discoveries, both musical and personal. I found new favorites that year—songs I now feel I can’t live without, because they express a part of me that no other artist had sufficiently articulated.

And I never would’ve discovered those songs, those artists, or that version of myself if I’d stuck to the familiar.

I also made personal revelations—the biggest one being that I was capable of such discipline. I knew if I’d done it once, I could do it again, and maybe I’d grow more this time. So I decided to abandon my musical comfort zone for another year.

That means any music I’d ever heard before my last birthday is off limits until my next one.

I archived every Spotify playlist, and removed every album from my library. I awoke on September 3 to the beautiful, slightly-intimidating feeling of a blank slate. I had no idea where to start—and it was invigorating.

That day, I drove to work in silence.

There was beauty in the discomfort. The only sound was the occasional exasperation I muttered aloud while flipping through my mental music collection, trying to recall any albums I’d never made time to listen to. Before I knew it, I’d run out of time to listen anyway.

Perhaps now’s the time to mention my “office” is Washington Dulles International Airport (IAD). I’m a commercial flight attendant.

I had a physical “blank slate” in my purse that day in the form of an empty journal, intended for whatever crazy thoughts might go through my head at 35,000 feet. One particularly interesting thought did cross my mind…

What if I use this journal for music recommendations?

Nah; too nebulous. Music is personal, and everyone has their own mosaic of artists, albums, and songs that make up their emotional identity. People would be overwhelmed by my request—and I’d struggle to sift through their answers. I also doubted I’d have the same personal connection to the majority of the music.

So what if I asked everyone for one song? What if there was a question that everyone would have an answer to—and every answer would be different?

Thus, the Happiness Soundtrack was born!

My goal is to ask one person a day, and I’ll keep going until the book is full.

For me, it’s become less about the answers, and more about the connections I make through asking the question. Those stories are what I share here.

Thanks for following along! And if you’re a contributor, thanks for being part of the project! Every single entry is special to me in its own way. :)

Signature reading 'Janna Barrett' in black cursive handwriting.

about me

Hi, I’m Janna Barrett! I’m a commercial flight attendant based in Washington, D.C. My theory is that I’m actually an undercover anthropologist—so deep undercover that even I don’t realize it—and that travel and music are how I explore what it means to be human. Art and writing are how I express my discoveries.

For more of my story, and more of my writing, check out my bio on Medium!

Portrait of Janna Barrett with dark, wavy hair, smiling with her eyes closed, wearing a white polka dot shirt, a gold watch, and beaded bracelets, standing outdoors.