Levitating
The hook: a disco ball in a quiet world
In late March 2020, as cities from London to Los Angeles shuttered and the global music industry braced for what looked like an extinction event, Dua Lipa made a decision that ran against every instinct of crisis management. Her second album, Future Nostalgia, was finished. The marketing campaign was built around touring, club premieres, the kind of in-person ecstasy that had just been outlawed by emergency decree. Her label suggested delay. She pushed forward.
The album dropped on March 27, 2020. Inside it, near the middle of the tracklist, sat a song titled "Levitating" — a four-on-the-floor confection co-written with the Norwegian songwriter Sarah Hudson, the producer Stephen Kozmeniuk, and the dance-pop architect Clarence Coffee Jr. Initially it was not even the lead single. That honor went to "Don't Start Now." But over the following eighteen months, "Levitating" did something almost no pop song does anymore. It grew slowly. It refused to die. By the end of 2021, Billboard would name it the song of the year, and it would log a record 41 consecutive weeks in the Hot 100 top ten.
What was it about this song — disposable on the surface, sticky as flypaper underneath — that turned a pandemic-era release into one of the defining pop artifacts of its decade?
Background: the long road to Future Nostalgia
Dua Lipa was born in London in 1995 to ethnic Albanian parents who had fled the unraveling of Yugoslavia. Her father, Dukagjin Lipa, had been a rock musician in Kosovo before the wars; her mother, Anesa, worked in tourism. The family returned to Pristina when Dua was eleven, then she came back to London alone at fifteen to chase music, living with friends and posting covers to YouTube while attending Sylvia Young Theatre School — the same drama academy that produced Amy Winehouse and members of All Saints.
Her self-titled 2017 debut was a competent but unremarkable showcase, anchored by the slow-burn ballad "New Rules." It made her a star but did not give her a sound. The problem, she told The Guardian in 2020, was that the album lacked a thesis. She wanted the next record to have one. The thesis she chose — the phrase she repeated to every collaborator who walked into the studio — was future nostalgia. Take the sonic DNA of the late 1970s and early 1980s, the era of Chic and Olivia Newton-John and the soft-rock-meets-disco crossover, and rebuild it with the resolution and rhythmic precision of contemporary production.
"Levitating" was the purest expression of that brief. Its bassline is a direct descendant of Bernard Edwards' work with Chic; its talkbox flourishes nod to Roger Troutman and Zapp; the spoken-word intro evokes the camp grandeur of late-period Donna Summer. Producer Koz has said the demo came together in a single afternoon, the team chasing the feeling of a roller disco — a feeling Lipa had grown up with secondhand, through her father's record collection.
What the song is actually about
Strip away the cosmic vocabulary and "Levitating" is, fundamentally, a love song about the chemical lift of new infatuation. The lyrics frame attraction as gravitational physics — the beloved as a celestial body, the singer pulled into orbit, the two of them rising together into a sugar-rush stratosphere. There are references to the Milky Way, to the disco zodiac, to flying without leaving the dance floor.
It is worth noting how unusual this framing is in 2020s pop. Most major-label hits of the era trafficked in melancholy: Billie Eilish's whispered dread, Olivia Rodrigo's diaristic wounds, The Weeknd's nihilist neon. Lipa, who is friends with several of these artists, made a deliberate choice to swim against that current. "Pop should be fun again," she told Rolling Stone in a 2020 cover story. The song's optimism was not naïve — it was, she insisted, a kind of resistance.
There is also a subtler layer worth attention. The version most listeners encountered after October 2020 was the remix featuring DaBaby, the Charlotte rapper whose contribution gave the song its American radio second life. When DaBaby was later dropped from major festivals over homophobic remarks, Lipa publicly distanced herself, and many streaming playlists quietly swapped the remix for the album cut. The song's history thus carries within it a small parable about the moral economy of contemporary pop — how a track can outgrow its own credits.
Cultural context: where this song fits in the disco lineage
For English-speaking listeners outside the UK and US, it helps to understand the specific cultural moment "Levitating" was reaching back toward. Disco — born in the basement clubs of early-1970s New York, codified at venues like The Loft and The Gallery and later commercialized at Studio 54 — was never just a genre. It was a sanctuary for Black, Latino, and queer communities who had been pushed out of rock's predominantly white, predominantly straight ecosystem. When the "Disco Demolition Night" riot detonated a crate of disco records at Chicago's Comiskey Park in July 1979, it was not just a musical backlash. It was, as critics like Vince Aletti and later Peter Shapiro have argued, a cultural one.
Disco never really died — it went underground, rebranded as house in Chicago and garage in New York, then resurfaced periodically. Daft Punk's 2013 Random Access Memories, Bruno Mars and Mark Ronson's "Uptown Funk," The Weeknd's "Blinding Lights" — each represented a wave of the revival. But "Levitating" arrived at a particular inflection point: a moment when nightlife itself was under threat, when the dance floor existed only in memory or in the corner of one's kitchen. The song became a stand-in for an experience nobody could have.
There is a specifically British sub-current too. Lipa is part of a lineage of UK pop artists — Kylie Minogue (Australian by birth, British by adoption), Sophie Ellis-Bextor, Róisín Murphy, Jessie Ware — who have kept disco's flame burning in a national pop culture that, since the late 1990s, has been more comfortable with dance music than its American counterpart. Future Nostalgia arrived in the same year as Ware's What's Your Pleasure? and Kylie's Disco, forming a kind of accidental trilogy. Critics began calling 2020 the year disco came back, even as the clubs sat dark.
Why it still resonates
Five years on, "Levitating" remains one of the most-streamed songs of the 2020s — a permanent fixture on wedding playlists, gym mixes, supermarket overhead systems, and the YouTube algorithms that decide what soundtracks a teenager's first slow dance. There are several reasons it has refused to age.
The first is structural. Pop scholars have noted that "Levitating" is unusually economical: every section earns its place, no bridge overstays its welcome, the chorus arrives on a cushion of horn-stab and falsetto background vocals that imprint after a single listen. It is a song built to survive the first three seconds of a TikTok scroll, but it also rewards repeat listening — the kind of layered production that reveals new details on a good pair of headphones.
The second is contextual. The song became attached to a specific cultural memory: the months when the world was suspended, when "going out" meant a walk around the block, when joy felt like a small act of defiance. For a generation that came of age in those years, "Levitating" carries the same proxy-nostalgia function that "Don't Stop Believin'" carries for late Gen X — a song that, regardless of its actual lyrical content, conjures a feeling of collective, slightly desperate optimism.
The third is broader. Future Nostalgia succeeded in part because it offered a thesis that the wider culture was hungry for: the past, refurbished. In an era of streaming abundance, when every song ever recorded sits one tap away, the artists who break through are often those who curate the archive with the most conviction. Lipa was not trying to invent a new sound. She was trying to remind people that an old one still worked.
That argument — that pop's job is not always to push forward, but sometimes to keep certain pleasures alive — has only grown more relevant. The disco revival did not end with Future Nostalgia. Beyoncé's Renaissance (2022), the global SZA wave, the continued dominance of artists like Doja Cat and Tate McRae — all of them owe something to the door Lipa kicked open in March 2020.
Frequently Asked Questions
What is "Levitating" by Dua Lipa about?
"Levitating" is a love song about the giddy, weightless rush of new infatuation. It uses the language of outer space and gravitational physics as a metaphor, picturing the object of attraction as a celestial body and the singer pulled into orbit alongside them. There are nods to the Milky Way and the disco zodiac, but the core feeling is simple: falling for someone so hard it feels like floating off the dance floor. Lipa framed its sheer optimism as a deliberate act of resistance against a wave of moodier 2020s pop.
When did "Levitating" come out?
"Levitating" was released on March 27, 2020, as part of Dua Lipa's second album, Future Nostalgia. It was not the lead single at first — that role went to "Don't Start Now" — but it grew slowly over the following eighteen months. By the end of 2021, Billboard named it the song of the year, and it logged a record 41 consecutive weeks in the Hot 100 top ten.
Who wrote and performed "Levitating"?
"Levitating" was performed by Dua Lipa, the British-Albanian singer born in London in 1995. She co-wrote it with songwriter Sarah Hudson, producer Stephen Kozmeniuk (Koz), and dance-pop writer Clarence Coffee Jr. According to Koz, the demo reportedly came together in a single afternoon, with the team chasing the feeling of a roller disco. The track is the purest expression of Lipa's "future nostalgia" thesis: rebuild the sound of late-1970s disco with modern production precision.
Why are there two different versions of "Levitating"?
There are two main versions because a remix featuring rapper DaBaby was released in October 2020 and became the song's American radio breakout. After DaBaby was dropped from major festivals over homophobic remarks, Lipa publicly distanced herself, and many streaming playlists quietly reverted to the original album cut. So depending on when and where you heard it, you may know either the solo album version or the DaBaby remix.
Is "Levitating" actually about the pandemic?
No, "Levitating" is not about the pandemic — its lyrics are a cosmic-themed love song with no reference to lockdown. The association comes from timing: it arrived just as the world shut down in 2020, becoming a soundtrack for bedroom dancing and hope held in suspension. Much like "Don't Stop Believin'" evokes its own era regardless of its words, "Levitating" came to carry the memory of that suspended moment for a whole generation.
How to dive deeper
🎧 Listen
- Chic — Risqué (1979) — The bassline architecture that "Levitating" inherits begins here. Bernard Edwards and Nile Rodgers built the language of upmarket disco on this record, and "Good Times" is its mission statement. Search on Amazon
- Jessie Ware — What's Your Pleasure? (2020) — Released within weeks of Future Nostalgia, Ware's record is the album for those who want disco with more shadow and slink. A sister text. Search on Amazon
- Kylie Minogue — Disco (2020) — The third panel of the 2020 revival triptych. Pure pop, no apologies. Search on Amazon
📚 Read
- Peter Shapiro — Turn the Beat Around: The Secret History of Disco — The definitive cultural history. Shapiro traces the genre from the Loft to Studio 54 to its Chicago house afterlife, with particular attention to the queer and Black communities that built it. Search on Amazon
- Tim Lawrence — Love Saves the Day: A History of American Dance Music Culture, 1970–1979 — A scholarly counterpart to Shapiro, especially good on the New York scene and the role of DJs as cultural curators. Search on Amazon
- Jon Savage — 1966: The Year the Decade Exploded — Not about disco, but the best account of how a single year in pop can crystallize an era. Useful framework for thinking about 2020. Search on Amazon
🌍 Visit
- The Stonewall Inn, Greenwich Village, New York — Not a disco venue, but the cultural ground zero from which the dance-floor-as-sanctuary tradition emerged. Now a National Monument. A pilgrimage for anyone who wants to understand what was at stake in the dance music of the 1970s.
- Printworks, London (legacy site) / Drumsheds, Tottenham — Britain's superclub tradition continues to evolve. Drumsheds, opened in 2023 in a former IKEA warehouse, is the closest contemporary analog to the scale of Studio 54.
- Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Cleveland — The Hall has finally begun, in the last decade, to take disco seriously as a foundational genre. The exhibits on Donna Summer and Chic are worth the detour.
🎸 Explore
- The 1979 Billboard Year-End Hot 100 — A pop-historical document. The disco saturation of that year — Donna Summer, Gloria Gaynor, Sister Sledge, the Bee Gees — is the soil "Levitating" grows from.
- Coachella 2022, Dua Lipa's Future Nostalgia Tour archives — Footage and setlist breakdowns from the tour are widely available on YouTube. The live arrangement of "Levitating" reveals how much funk band scaffolding underpins the studio recording.
- The Rolling Stone 2020 cover story on Dua Lipa — Brittany Spanos' profile is the definitive contemporaneous account of the album's making, including the pandemic-release decision. The magazine's archives also contain extensive coverage of the broader disco revival.
🔗 Stream "Levitating": song.link/s/levitating-dua-lipa
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What does it say about a culture when its defining hit of a catastrophic year is a song about floating, weightless, into outer space?
It suggests a culture reaching for escape and uplift precisely when the ground felt least stable, treating weightlessness as a kind of antidote to confinement. Lipa herself framed the song's optimism as resistance rather than denial, and its slow climb to becoming 2021's biggest hit hints that listeners were actively choosing buoyancy over the moodier pop of the era. In that sense the song reads less as escapism and more as a collective decision to keep joy alive when everything else was suspended. -
If every era of pop has its own way of remembering an earlier era, what is the 2020s actually nostalgic for — the 1970s themselves, or the 1990s/2000s memory of the 1970s?
Future Nostalgia is arguably nostalgic for both at once: it borrows the bassline language of Chic and the talkbox of Zapp, but it filters them through the gleaming, high-resolution production sensibility of later decades. The result is not a museum recreation of 1979 so much as a polished, idealized version of how that era is remembered. That layered nostalgia — a memory of a memory — may be exactly why it felt comforting rather than dated. -
Will "Levitating" still feel like a pandemic song in twenty years, the way "Bridge Over Troubled Water" still feels like a 1970 song — or will it shed that context and become simply, weightlessly, itself?
It could go either way, and the song's own lyrics give it room to drift free, since they never mention lockdown at all. The pandemic association is entirely circumstantial, tied to its March 2020 timing, so future listeners with no memory of that moment may simply hear a buoyant disco-pop love song. Whether the context sticks will likely depend less on the music than on how strongly the generation that lived through 2020 keeps retelling the story.