LISTEN: "Dance in Heaven": The song that captured a nation’s tears and triumph

On October 7, 2023, the music stopped. At the Nova Music Festival near Kibbutz Re’im, where thousands of young Israelis danced under the dawn sky, Hamas terrorists unleashed a massacre that claimed 364 lives, part of a broader attack that killed around 1,200 people across southern Israel. In the weeks that followed, as a nation reeled, Israeli pop artist Osher Cohen gave voice to the silence with "Tirkedi"—Hebrew for "Dance"—a song that transforms raw grief into a haunting, hopeful elegy.

Released just a month after the terror and tragedy of October 7th, this tender ballad has become more than a hit; it’s a lifeline for a wounded people, a melody that mourns the fallen while imagining them twirling beyond the chaos.

Cohen, a 29-year-old singer from Bat Yam with a soulful edge and over 625,000 monthly Spotify listeners, wrote "Tirkedi (7.10.23)" with producer Nadav “Navi” Aharoni in the attack’s immediate aftermath. The lyrics are a gut punch, painting the festival’s fleeting joy—“The songs do you good / We’re all friends here / Brothers, sisters”—before plunging into terror: “Maybe you’ll escape / They’re almost here.” Images of “whips of the grass,” “threads of smoke,” and “whistles of the blast” evoke the gunfire and rockets that turned a dance floor into a battlefield.

Yet the refrain, “Dance,” rises like a prayer, a vision of the lost “dancing up there,” defiant even in death. Accompanied by a YouTube video listing every victim’s name, it’s a tribute as personal as it is universal.

The song’s power lies in its simplicity. Cohen’s voice—tender yet piercing—floats over a minimalist weave of acoustic guitar and faint synths, shunning polish for immediacy. It’s as if he’s singing from the ashes, unfiltered, a cry from a generation blindsided by violence. Unlike his usual fare—upbeat love songs like "Rak Shelach" or "Kama Ze Koev"—this is Cohen unadorned, his Middle Eastern-inflected pop stripped to its emotional core. The melody sways between sorrow and uplift, a tightrope walk that mirrors Israel’s post-October 7 psyche: shattered, yet clinging to resilience.

"Tirkedi" struck a chord instantly. With over 11 million YouTube views for the original and millions more for a live rendition from his 2024 Yarkon Park concert in Tel Aviv, it’s become an anthem of remembrance. Across Israel, it echoes at memorials, its words carried by survivors and mourners alike. Covers have proliferated, and social media brims with praise—fans call it “a punch to the soul,” “the sound of our heartbreak.” A year later, at the attack’s anniversary, Cohen’s barefoot performance of the song before thousands moved the crowd to tears, a moment captured in grainy fan videos that spread like wildfire online.

Born in 1995 to a working-class family, Cohen rose through Israel’s music scene with a knack for blending catchy hooks with introspective depth. His 350,000 Instagram followers know him for his charisma and relatability, but "Tirkedi" reveals a new layer: an artist channeling collective trauma into art. It’s not religious music, despite some comparisons to devotional singers like Hanan Ben Ari; it’s secular, raw, and rooted in the here-and-now. Critics have hailed its specificity—The Times of Israel dubbed it a “commemoration in song,” while The Jewish Independent praised its literal response to Nova’s tragedy. Yet its reach transcends borders, resonating with anyone who’s known loss.

In a nation where art often wrestles with identity and conflict, "Tirkedi" stands apart. It’s not a call to arms or a political treatise but a quiet act of defiance—proof that even when the music stops, the spirit dances on. For Osher Cohen, it’s a career-defining moment, turning a pop star into a poet of pain. For Israel, it’s a mirror to a day that broke hearts but couldn’t break hope. As one fan wrote online, “He gave us a way to cry—and a reason to keep moving.” In "Tirkedi," the fallen dance forever, and a grieving country finds its song.