Our favorite songs of the year defied genre and redefined them. They saw through the eyes of cannibals and made their peace with being the bad guy. They played word games and saw trouble over the horizon. They played with pedalboards and then set them aside for the sake of the lyrics, turned up the BPMs and added an even better bassline. They captured something pure and then got a little raunchy, and then said goodbye to it all. And most important of all, they got us through the year.
Enjoy our list of the 100 Best Songs of 2025.
Blurbs by Adam Blyweiss (AB), Adam P. Newton (APN), Brad Cohan (BC), Casey Burke (CB), Dom Lepore (DL), Ed Brown (EBr), Elliot Burr (EBu), Emily Reily (ER), Flora Arnold (FA), Greg Hyde (GH), Jason Brow (JB), John-Paul Shiver (JPS), Jeff Terich (JT), Kurt Orzeck (KO), Laura Deadflowers (LDF), Langdon Hickman (LH), Louis Pelingen (LP), Michael Pementel (MP), Tyler Dunston (TD), Tom Morgan (TM), Virginia Croft (VC), and Wil Lewellyn (WL).
100. Liquid Mike – “99”
Mike Maple’s semi-eponymous project has been the prime conveyor of gnarly power pop the past few years. If you like your early ‘00s Weezer extra spiky, you can count on the songwriter and his mates to deliver just that. On Hell Is An Airport though, some brushing up of guitar music outside of Maple’s usual wheelhouse inspired fresher sounds, “99” included. It’s got their power chord pummeling, only with a grunge feel served slab thick, and a noodly math rock delicacy that emerges like a frolicking dolphin leaping out from the distorted depths. It’s a driving riot, standing out in a discography full of them. – EBu
99. Makaya McCraven – “Dark Parks”
Makaya McCraven is conflicted about calling his music “jazz,” a term that the likes of Duke Ellington and Charles Mingus didn’t care to have applied to their own music either. In any case, it’s too limiting a term for the breadth of music McCraven explores with a deep bench of collaborators on his latest quartet of EPs, taking inspiration from techno, hip-hop and beyond. “Dark Parks,” the standout from Hidden Out!, is a work of beat-laden funk above all, McCraven taking a live recording with Junius Paul, Marquis Hill and Josh Johnson into a wah-wah laden groove of breaks and loops. It follows no orthodoxy, just the path of rhythm. – JT
98. Honningbarna – “Amor Fati”
Fittingly, this track’s Latin phrase is all about accepting the buzz of life through hardship; exactly what Honningbarna enthusiastically peddle with extra injections of adrenaline every album release. Soft Spot is a jittering onslaught that often feels like the instrumentals are slipping from their frames, especially on the frenetic “Amor Fati.” The chorus guitar works like a pneumatic drill alongside the football-stadium style gang vocals and singer Edvard Valberg switching deliveries like Kendrick Lamar if he fronted The Dillinger Escape Plan—justifying the group’s deserved place on Kristiansand’s Mount Rushmore alongside Jens Bjørneboe and Snadderkiosken. – EBu
97. Pink Siifu – “LAST ONE ALIVE’!”
Pink Siifu’s BLACK’!ANTIQUE is steeped in dark and heavy sounds, punishing abrasion and layers of noise, only to gradually let up on the throttle as it reaches the conclusion of its 77-minute sprawl. “LAST ONE ALIVE’!” is the emergence of light near the end of its long tunnel, a bright and soulful standout kissed with saxophone loops and bathed in summer warmth. When Siifu allows himself a little breathing room, he indulges in a little self-appreciation: “I can’t teach drive but I can show you what do/Breakin’ my distractions, all that flackin’, fuck that slackin’.” It’s not so much a flex as a challenge—put in the work and maybe you can craft something this dense and visionary of your own. – JT
96. caroline – “U R UR Only Aching”
Just like our own fractured and interconnected lives on the Internet, caroline’s compositions defy immediate legibility while simultaneously speaking to deep emotional questions. Function and form blend. A separately recorded demo is cut into the middle of the swelling post-rock drone, mirroring the fragmentary lyrics. As their synthetically manipulated vocals eventually compete with (or seem to melt into) an emotive fiddle, the climax cuts back to the simply plucked melody and fuses all the erratic splices together into one sensation. What we ‘R’ I’m not sure exactly, and that seems to be part of the point. Certainly, though, we are aching. – FA
95. Ela Minus – “Broken”
Like much of her sophomore album, Día, “Broken” feels like the best of both (many) worlds. Ela Minus follows a healthy and wealthy lineage of synth-pop, music that feels somehow both old and new, nostalgic for lost futures. It’s a dualistic vibe. A classic techno snare hits just hard enough to get our feet up but the twinkling synths float soft, vocals remain ethereal while tugging firmly at heartstrings. Ultimately, landing neatly between Robyn’s joyous dancefloor hits and Karin Dreijer’s experimental ethos, perhaps it’s a sweet spot rather than a duality. – FA
94. Spellling – “Drain”
Portrait of My Heart expands on Spellling’s flexibility in being immersed in other genres, even the shimmering and hammering sides of alternative rock. “Drain” marries both sides terrifically. Chrystia Cabral alternates between a gorgeous coo and passionate declarations as the song’s pummeling riffs intensify during the chorus, progressing toward a cavernous echo, coiling into gothic smears and a palpitating drum section—wherein she unleashes various sorts of hollers and bellows. All of it is fitting for a song that craves for more, even if it’ll drain her by the very end. Desires are like that sometimes, you know? – LP
93. Oklou – “ict”
Oklou’s choke enough exercises restraint. Its airiness feels fairytale-like, but the muffled bird and siren ambience throughout remind you it’s still of our world. It could pass off as club music, but the lack of four-on-the-four beats says otherwise. For putting that high-octane impact narrowly out of reach, these songs leave you in a trance, as captured in “ict,” starting as a light frolic to the tune of Oklou’s “la-la-la”s. She mentions “strawberry dancer” and “vanilla summer” to intensifying drums, as if craving for a sickly-sweet thing, but they wind down when the drop would ensue. Oklou chases for the ultimate pleasure but chooses not to go there, taking us somewhere calmer, yet more addictive instead. – DL
92. Alex G – “Afterlife”
“Afterlife” is a sprightly indie-folk tune powered by bright mandolin licks and clean guitar strums. Alex G’s gentle tenor bursts with personality, as he shares his earnest and honest feelings without any maudlin affect. The warm Headlights standout bursts with sincere affirmations of life and nostalgic memories (“Like a kid I ran it past, running through the tiger grass“), sentiments that soar into the stratosphere through catchy melodies, sun-baked energy, and rich instrumentation. – APN
91. Squid – “Crispy Skin”
“Do you recall those carpet shops?” asks Squid’s Ollie Judge, “Those little books that help you make decisions.” In “Crispy Skin,” the twinkling, krautrock epic that opens Squid’s ambitious third album Cowards, the future slowly comes into grisly focus, banal in its barbarity in spite of the gorgeously detailed landscape the band constructs around it. Inspired by Agustina Bazterrica’s Tender is the Flesh, “Crispy Skin” surveys the mind of a consumer participating in capitalistic cannibalism, one conscientious enough to feel guilty about it but not necessarily to do anything about it: “Am I the bad one? Yes, yes I am.” It’s a gorgeous rendering of a terrifyingly ordinary dystopia. – JT
90. Sofia Kourtesis & Daphni – “Unidos”
The centerpiece of the Berlin-based producer’s Latin-inflected disco-house EP Volver, “Unidos” exists to sweep you away like a Roomba. I don’t know just who laid down rubbery bass synths and glitched vocals atop this song’s symphonic lines, but Dan Snaith’s presence as Daphni seems designed to help modernize the proceedings. In the meantime, Kourtesis’ voice flits and darts like the most positive dragonfly ever, exhortations like “You never let them get you down” and “You’ve got everything you need” reminding us of the kind of community ideals to which Detroit and New York’s club scenes have always aspired. – AB
89. Sabrina Carpenter – “Tears”
Sabrina Carpenter has solidified herself as a pop diva who has her most fun playing with the power of words. “Tears” is bold in its use of double entendres, in a way that might make some listeners blush, but she pushes confidently through the sleek, disco-forward track. It’s a cheeky way to convey the joy she’d feel at a man doing the bare minimum (“Remembering how to use your phone gets me oh so hot”) and refreshing in its delivery. Putting it over the top is its funky dance break, a testament to the track’s production, emblazoned with pristine pop synths and a punchy piano line. – VC
88. Richard Dawson – “The Question”
Richard Dawson’s modesty is his superpower: a Geordie genius camouflaged by a detuned, accident prone guitar who truly reveals his connected power through intimate live renditions. End of the Middle is a demure record by his usual conceptual standards, albeit just as potent when it mimics his stripped-back performance, as on “The question” with its aimless-sounding warm up introduction and a childlike ditty morphing into a Poe-like horror story. The fact he somehow evokes dread through a basic drum pattern, plucky strings, a shout out to the London School of Economics and his warbled high-register of “fatheerrrr!” is unbelievable. It’s pure storytelling magic. – EBu
87. Jay Som – “Float” (feat. Jim Adkins)
The original title of Jay Som’s “Float” was “Cloud Nothings Idea,” its soaring punk sound inspired the Cleveland indie MVPs. And it doesn’t take too much to imagine the guest vocals on the surging anthem provided by Dylan Baldi. But the actual guest vocalist is Jim Adkins, frontman of Jimmy Eat World, whose own radio-friendly emo singles have inspired several generations of punks thereafter. If anything, “Float” makes even more transparent that lineage, of which we can also include Jay Som’s Melina Duterte, whose voice raises ever slightly while Adkins’ belt comes down a notch or two to meet in the middle as they harmonize the refrain, “Float, don’t fight.” A breakup song that’s not quite at the broken up stage, it’s fit to burst with pent-up feelings and hooks that can’t be contained. – JT
86. Freddie Gibbs & The Alchemist – “1995”
Freddie Gibbs has spent nearly a decade now leaning into the easy swagger of his confident cool since the drop of Freddie, his Teddy Pendergrass-visual referencing record. “1995” doesn’t skimp on fireworks, of course, both vocally as well as that gnarly diMeola-esque guitar line, but more than anything it exudes that smoky room, silk-sheet cool of classic soul-funk. The Alchemist, maybe our collective favorite modern producer, certainly understood the assignment, delivering a beat so sexy you can practically hear Barry White prepping to start singing at any minute. It’s the sound of two men in the midst of mutual career highs, fully aware of how good they are, and it’s glorious. – LH
85. Saya Gray – “Lie Down..”
Saya Gray’s eponymous album saw her scavenge her fragmented art pop—acoustic sketches with little more than her voice in empty space—into cohesive and conventional break-up songs. Her initial abstract and refracting sound, while pretty, would thrive more accessibly—as it does so on “Lie Down..,” a stellar and gorgeous heartbreak anthem. Its swaying, euphonious pedal steel groove is a clever distraction from Gray’s dispirited doubts of staying in the memories of lovers left behind. She repurposes the hook from 2023’s “PREYING MANTIS !” to cement the bittersweetness: “I can make your dust turn to sparkle”—Gray’s scattershot laments have become dignified. – DL
84. Playboi Carti – “OPM BABI”
“OPM BABI” is the strangest song on Playboi Carti’s long-awaited fourth project, MUSIC. Here, the singular, elusive hip-hop star captures the same off-kilter mania that invigorated his previous album, Whole Lotta Red, without retreading its sound. Relentless Swamp Izzo tags and arhythmic blasts of gunfire drown out his clipped, pitch-shifting flow. The whole thing is a fever dream. But this is the effect Carti creates at his best: utter disorientation bordering on self-immolation. In a perfect world, instead of the waterlogged MUSIC, Carti would have released an angry, focused album half the length, with “OPM BABI” as its spiritual centerpiece. – CB
83. Danny Brown – “Starburst”
With each album, it feels as if Danny Brown taps into a new soundscape, a whole subgenre emerging within his tracks. “Starburst,” the lead single from his latest album Stardust, listens like his strongest change up yet, incorporating heavy, pop-driven beats and a vibe closer to a rave than his more recent Quaranta, which found him laying it all out paired with more minimal beats. “Starburst” is punchy and powerful, with hyperpop overtones, Brown showing how high he can take his sound. It’s a workout of a song, driving into a thrashing of beats that are counteracted with a cool down, a spoken word portion read by Frost Children’s Angel Prost. – VC
82. Horsegirl – “Julie”
Horsegirl swapped out the distortion and haze of their debut for a brighter, more playful jangle on Phonetics On and On, and a recurring sequence of nonsensical chants (that’d be the phonetics part). That’s all present on “Julie,” the sweetly sung “da-da-da-da-da,” cat-chirp guitar licks and a hypnotic Velvets-like drone, but it’s also the most graceful and vulnerable moment on the record. A love song to a person, a city and the potential of a new and unwritten chapter alike, “Julie” is a gentle song about big, messy feelings. “We have so many mistakes to make, mistakes to make with you,” Penelope Lowenstein sings, extending a hand outward. “I know you want them too.” – JT
81. Scowl – “Not Hell, Not Heaven”
Scowl’s hardcore roots have never obscured the fact that they’re naturals at writing hook-laden pop songs—the kind with loud guitars and BPMs outside recommended safety levels. “Not Hell, Not Heaven” is one of nearly a dozen punk-pop powerhouse anthems on Are We All Angels and arguably the best, pairing acidity with a refined sweetness and Kat Moss’ infectiously melodic vocal hooks. “Listen, hear all hell unleashed,” she sings, “the sound of reckoning.” “Not Hell, Not Heaven”? On the contrary—it’s both. – JT
80. Ninajirachi – “Infohazard”
2010s EDM is no longer treated as a joke. Those who grew up on that music and are now making it themselves treat it uncynically. Ninajirachi is spearheading that shift, with her hyperpop-meets-EDM debut album I Love My Computer celebrating the earlier internet that was separated from the real world. With “Infohazard,” she explores a child surfing the web unexpectedly to disturbing content they realize they shouldn’t see: “The man without a head / On my screen, I saw him / When I was four and ten.” Uplifting trance bursts into turbulent techno—a barrage reminiscent of the haunting image stuck in their head, and a creative portrayal of how precocious kids can be on the internet. – DL
79. Aesop Rock – “John Something”
Aesop Rock can spin seemingly any topic into a saga—reproducing snails, rivers, a bird eating a cat. “John Something” is no exception to this rule, but Aes puts his own cultural education at the center of it, a coming-of-age moment of clarity half remembered through names that elude him: “We had a visiting artist in the winter of ’96/Who came to talk about his paintings and the shit that makes him tick—I think his name was John… something.” Wrapped in a self-produced groove custom fit for its Shaft-like chants of the semi-anonymous title figure’s name, “John Something” retells the revelation of seeing When We Were Kings on his endorsement and its life-changing impact. “Every atom in you shifting, christened in the river shit/And I still revisit it, this week, winter came/Cued it up, hit play, it felt like someone visited.” Affecting and humorous in equal measure, it pays homage to one of Aesop Rock’s influences—whoever he is—in a way only he can. – JT
78. Smerz – “But I Do”
Though Smerz’s name might come across like a fun kids’ candy loaded with sugar, “But I Do” is something much more grown up. Assuaging and calm, “But I Do” is in no rush to define what the rest of Smerz’s Big City Life album is, even if it sits in the critical second seat on the record. This is the stuff that dreams are made of, if the person who’s dreaming has visions of Kilo Kish and Jenny Hval dancing in their head. – KO
77. Momma – “Ohio All the Time”
Heavy and cathartic, “Ohio All the Time” is one of the most satisfying tracks on Momma’s Welcome to My Blue Sky. Chock full of heavy guitars and aching vocals, it finds its footing best in a therapeutic chorus with repeats of “I’m running to you right?” There’s a sense of reflection, of looking inward at the choices they’ve made and continue to make. The honesty in “Ohio All the Time” shines through and is only made better by its stellar production and hazy guitar lines. Momma crafts a brilliant anthem of self-acceptance. – VC
76. Amaarae – “Fineshyt”
It’s not quite time to put a ring on it, but the third single from the Ghanian-American musician’s third LP Black Star definitely feels like a queer anthem for locking it down. It pulls its sonics from the vibe-like synths of 1990s techno-pop, spare South American and African dance music, and more modern Auto-Tuned hip-hop. Those sing-song lyrics find Amaarae telling us just how fine her shit actually is (“She can’t be out alone/I’m buying all her clothes/It’s whatever she want”) when she’s not reminding her lady of the same (“My sexy sex machine/I like your new physique”). It’s a relatively simple formula, but totally believable and endlessly replayable. – AB
75. Little Simz – “Lion” (feat. Obongjayar)
Throughout Lotus‘ 50 minutes, Little Simz is frustrated, angry, hurt—sometimes all of these at once, reflecting on the dissolution of a friendship that also sapped her of her resources. That frustration bubbles under the surface on “Lion,” but its spacious Afrobeat grooves and affirmations from Obongjayar (“We don’t care for what they say, that’s my superpower“) underscore a brighter and warmer outlook, Simz reflecting on the determination that got her where she is (“I was strugglin’ to run it on my last legs, said I’ll never quit until I take my last breath“), even if she’s been temporarily knocked back on her heels. The anger and hurt still linger, but she won’t be broken. – JT
74. Ethel Cain – “Janie”
The opening track of Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You is heavy with introspection, combining with emotional vulnerability to create something honest, even as Hayden Anhedönia builds off all the lore behind the character of Ethel Cain. It’s the first of two songs on the album that work off the kind of atmospheric folk she was known for up to this point, before the album veers off into hypnotic shoegazing post-rock. The urgency in Cain’s voice, combined with a nostalgic yearning for a time when she was also important in her sister’s life, lends weight to the song’s impact. A song of stunning beauty on an album painted in different sonic colors. – WL
73. yeule – “Evangelic Girl Is a Gun”
The music that London-based, Singapore-born artist yeule makes is built on unlikely connections, like pop with glitching electronics and big alt-rock hooks—all of which are present on the pounding nu-rave thump of “Evangelic Girl Is a Gun.” A tangled web of sexual imagery and sexual politics, the glamour of fame and the toxicity of it alike, “Evangelic Girl” overstimulates with imagery and sound, nosebleeds on the Sunset Strip, billboards in London, morphine kissing and Marshall stacking. It’s like hearing the ’90s taken apart and put back together in an entirely different, but seemingly much better way. – JT
72. SML – “Taking Out the Trash”
“Taking Out the Trash” sounds like it could be some kind of slangy phrase for a band getting nasty with a groove, but the first single SML released from their sophomore album How You Been is anything but refuse. The Los Angeles group is more jazz than not, sneakily snaking through grooves without ever firmly committing to a definitive label. But “Taking Out the Trash” pushes them into a more electrifying funk sound, bouncing and pinging with Mouse on Mars-like electronic effects while bassist Anna Butterss and drummer Booker Stardrum carve out some of their most physical and immediate rhythms. Lithe, taut and driven by the joy of movement, SML let no measure go to waste. – JT
71. Black Eyes – “TomTom”
If Treble were to hand out comeback of the year awards, we’d surely be giving one to Dischord Records dub-punk vets Black Eyes. Hostile Design, the reunited five-piece’s first album in 21 years, picks up where they left off from back in the mid-aughts, bursting at the seams with sax squawks, locked-in bass and percussion, scratchy riffage and nails-on-chalkboard screams. “TomTom,” the album’s closer, is the centerpiece of Hostile Design, a spacey and skronky minimalist funk-dub anthem built on propulsive grooves, naturally bashed out on the tom toms (hence, the song’s title) that don’t let go over its seven minutes. The track’s narrative is dead serious however, as its lyrics address the threats, treatment and harassment women face on a daily basis. – BC
70. Bad Bunny – “Baile Inolvidable”
After an extended intro of woozy synths and manipulated vocals, salsa reigns. Aside from that intro (and perhaps our own expectations), the only thing that distinguishes this track as anything other than a straightforward, contemporary Puerto Rican salsa song is Bad Bunny’s trademark drawling vocal delivery. Lines like “Y fuiste tú mi baile inolvidable” should make any heart melt, but I’d like to take a more abstract interpretation about his relationship to salsa. Perhaps he’s singing not about one romantic dance in particular but about the dance music itself, a partner in life that he’ll never forget and that taught him so much (“Tú me enseñaste a querer / Me enseñaste a bailar”). – FA
69. Rochelle Jordan – “Never Enough”
House music and heartbreak are well-acquainted, the hypnotic sound of a looping beat and a bright shimmer of piano often the perfect prescription for healing all emotional wounds. British-Canadian singer Rochelle Jordan offers just the right dosage on “Never Enough,” an anthem of emancipation from her newly released Through the Wall, richly wrapped in a deeper shade of funk, featherweight synths and flecks of wah-wah guitar. It’s bad feelings wrapped in the best feelings, and even in Jordan’s lament the two are intertwined: “Once I get you off this body/Finally gonna leave you behind.” Liberation comes in many forms on “Never Enough,” all synced to the same intoxicating rhythm. – JT
68. Djrum – “A Tune for Us”
As a DJ, Felix Manuel, aka Djrum, is known for mixing together disparate styles into fluid sets that might on paper seem like outright chaos, employing deft techniques on the decks that shouldn’t be tried at home on your dad’s stereo—only under hip-hop supervision. As a musician, Manuel is prone to creating something more elegant and graceful. “A Tune for Us,” which kicks off his latest album Under Tangled Silence, is a meeting of these two extremes, his piano performance bringing an ECM jazz-like sensibility against an IDM rhythm that would scan as hyperactive if not for its gentler, prettier counterbalance. It’s a masterful work of arrangement and engineering that feels like a strange kind of sorcery. – JT
67. Ólafur Arnalds and Talos – “Signs”
It’s a little odd hearing the immaculate “Signs” out of the context of the stunning full-length collaboration between Ólafur Arnalds and Talos, A Dawning. However, “Signs” rightly deserves accolades on its own, as it lays the rich sonic foundation for everything that follows. Blending art-pop with post-rock, Arnalds and Talos create shimmering music that keens with searching energy. The pulsing synths and intricate keyboard fills float with remarkable ease, especially when paired with aching tenor vocals that slip into sensitive falsetto. With tender beats set an andante pace and twinkling arpeggios that encourage wonder, this warm hug of a song slowly builds to a resolution that encourages depths of emotion. – APN
66. Gelli Haha – “Spit”
There aren’t many synth-pop dancefloor bangers that double as a lesson in consonant sounds, but then again there aren’t many artists as colorfully eccentric with their disco as Gelli Haha. The Los Angeles artist rides in on an echoing recitation of the word “Sun,” followed by a Sesame Street-on-MDMA progression of s-sounds: “snake, soft, skin, shake.” With its heavy thump and throbbing bassline, “Spit” is slowly but steadily surging toward a climax one in which Angel Abaya delivers the only repeated sibilant syllables in the song: “Surrender/Surrender/Surrender/Surrender.” Superb. – JT
65. Nation of Language – “In Another Life”
There were surely bigger singles from Dance Called Memory, this Brooklyn band’s fourth album in 5 years, but the LP’s second track seemed to summarize its themes and sounds better than most. The despairing lyrics and their delivery by Ian Richard Devaney drive home his frustrations with emotions and relationships—“Love/What a waste of time/Oversold/But you know/It gets real low/When you go.” Meanwhile, the dreamy guitars, tuneless rapid-fire synth lasers, and flat percussion tie together the band’s indie-dance pedigree and new wave/new romantic influences. – AB
64. HUNTR/X – “Golden”
This was my Song of the Summer. Yes, “Golden” is the lead single from an animated Netflix movie about three friends who sing award-winning K-Pop while also fighting demons who threaten to rule the world. But it’s also a kickass pop song that dominated the charts for weeks because it’s great on its own terms. Sure, the positive lyrics do some heavy lifting, as they talk about standing up for who you really are, despite the baggage of generational trauma. But the synths and beats forming the song’s backbone cannot be denied. The chord progressions themselves aid in the track’s emotional development, while the lead vocals and attendant harmonies (sung by EJAE, Audrey Nuna, and Rei Ami) set your ears ablaze. If you aren’t pumping your fist by the time the big high notes hit (A5 above C!), I question your emotional awareness. – APN
63. FACS – “Desire Path”
As it turns out, a shade over two minutes is all veteran Chicago trio FACS need to bang their point across on “Desire Path,” a standout track found on Wish Defense, their sixth record released earlier this year. With original member Jonathan Van Herick back in the mix and once again laying down the thick, bottom-end boom (he left prior to the release of FACS’s 2018 debut), FACS is sonically heavy and mysterious as ever. On a stellar album teeming with minimalist wiry guitar/bass/drums rigor that invokes early Wire, “Desire Path” is the noise pedal-stomping “let it rip” melter moment, a woozy and oceanic noise-laden swirl–topped by the pseudo Brit accent of Brian Case–that whips up a shoegaze-meets-post-punk frenzy. – BC
62. Tunde Adebimpe – “Ate the Moon”
TV on the Radio hasn’t dropped a new album since 2014 but this year we got the next best thing: the solo debut of Tunde Adebimpe, the cofounder, lead vocalist and chief songwriter for the Brooklyn art-punk titans for the last quarter-century. Adebimpe’s Thee Black Boltz stands on its own as a singularly constructed sound and vision; it’s no TVOTR facsimile. And it’s full of synth-driving and glitchy dance-punk ragers illuminated by Adebimpe’s instantly recognizable voice. Thee Black Boltz is a treasure trove of should-be hits (“Magnetic” and “Somebody New” both rule) but “Ate The Moon” is the smash. A pulsing, Day-Glo melodic gem that will be stuck in your head for days on end, “Ate The Moon” is out of this world. – BC
61. McKinley Dixon – “Run, Run, Run Pt. II”
McKinley Dixon is a maximalist. The jazz-rap auteur’s fifth album Magic, Alive! is a conceptual epic, telling a sprawling magical realist tale and featuring a dizzying array of guest musicians. Intriguingly, however, its total runtime is a brief 35 minutes. The best track on the album “Run, Run, Run Pt. II” encapsulates this simultaneously stuffed yet light-on-its-feet feel. This propulsive, escapist track features no guest vocalists, which lets Dixon himself run wild. His expressive voice weaves magical imagery with meta commentary, including the key line “my target audience is everyone with heart,” which speaks to his wider philosophy. No one with a beating heart could fail to be invigorated by this track and the engrossing album it’s a core part of. – TM
60. Backxwash – “Wake Up”
Nothing Ashanti Mutinta does as Backxwash is subtle. Her Only Dust Remains LP this year found her openly questioning many things that actually mean something to her, with “Wake Up” in particular wondering aloud—a-very-loud—about being removed from the picture, who might take her place, and if it would even matter. The production and vocal delivery are as bracing as the Rage Against the Machine cut with which it shares a name, but with lines like “If it’s a battle for the weak and the strong/I really couldn’t give a fuck less, I just need to be home,” it’s a far more despairing reminder of these modern times. – AB
59. Motorbike – “Cold Sweat”
Every punk band will at some point feel the urge to make their own “Search and Destroy.” Not enough make the attempt at a “Gimme Danger.” Motorbike’s “Cold Sweat” is a case of the latter from a band I’m convinced could convincingly pull off the former—any number of standouts from their sophomore album Kick It Over feel effortlessly close. But it’s in slackening the pace slightly and letting a bit of space in between the power chords that the Cincinnati band achieve a singular triumph (motorcycle pun very much intended). “What a lovely day for a hurricane” sings Jamie Morrison, coolly extending an open invitation to mayhem. It’s more devil-may-care swagger than reckless nihilism, a slow drag on a cigarette before all hell breaks loose. – JT
58. ShrapKnel – “Alphabet Pho” (feat. doseone)
ShrapKnel have been known to travel through time and parallel dimensions, their surrealist rap tethered to no particular present day. Collaborating with veteran abstract hip-hop soothsayer Mike Ladd on Saisir le feu, one of three connected but distinctive albums from the rap duo this year, ShrapKnel crawl through vortex after wormhole, portal after astral gate, eventually landing at this ominous throb of a space-age menace. PremRock and Curly Castro weave disparate threads and nonchalant threats against Ladd’s backdrop of booming synth terror, but it’s doseone, oddball rap veteran of cLOUDDEAD and Anticon, whose scorching sinister growl (a “classical instrument/mastered with an intimate notion of the molten pit”) seems to burn a hole through the boundaries of time and space. – JT
57. bar italia – “Cowbella”
Along with Lifeguard, Horsegirl and Water From Your Eyes, the arty London trio bar italia round out Matador Records’ version of The Big Four of upstart punks on the rise. With their fifth and most cohesive album, Some Like It Hot, the trio of Nina Cristante, Jezmi Tarik Fehmi and Sam Fenton crank out a scorching hot mixed bag of off-kilter post-punk anthems, sugary-sweet pop goodness and jangly quiet/loud rockers. The pure Elastica-like punky infection of “Cowbella” is the grungy, alt-rock potential hit with honeyed boy/girl-traded yelps and super-tasty hooks meant to blast out of your car windows, at the DIY disco and in the pit. – BC
56. Wet Leg – “Pokemon”
Wet Leg’s second album, Moisturizer, is more focused, polished, snarky and fun than their 2021 self-titled debut. Rhian Teasdale’s voice now possesses a wider range of vocal styles, teetering between highbrow Joni Mitchell and a deadpan workingman’s bravado. “Pokemon,” one of Moisturizer’s lighter tunes, is a departure from its previous songs—we’re no longer throwing punches here. With her defenses down, Teasdale’s vulnerabilities shine through. Punctuated by an emo vibe and a more conventional beat, she swoons and drips and pouts for another, delivering a delicate vibrato that runs alongside smooth, floating synths. The sentiment of “going for a drive” indicates a leisurely motor around the seaside is requested, but Teasdale makes it very clear that’s not her speed. – ER
55. La Dispute – “Man With Hands and Ankles Bound”
On their fifth album, No One Was Driving the Car, La Dispute opted for a less personal and confessional, more heavily stylized mode of post-hardcore storytelling than that which characterized the record’s predecessor, 2019’s Panorama. The album’s second song, “Man with Hands and Ankles Bound,” saw a welcome return of the sort of crunchy, speedy riffing from La Dispute’s guitarists that abounded throughout the band’s third album—and career high point —Rooms of the House, as vocalist Jordan Dreyer plays director to an intimate and vulnerable scene: “Angles switching between her and him/Captions bracketed the language of skin.” – GH
54. Barker – “Fluid Mechanics”
Splitting the difference between cool jazz piano and bass plucks and space-age lounge-ambient washes of synths, Barker delivered to us a track that feels, and I mean this positively, like Dreamcast menu music. Vaporwave was a frustrating mixture of aesthetic dead ends and exciting kernels too few made the best of; that Barker achieves what that other genre sought via techno, jazz fusion and ambient feels both a testament to his aesthetic acumen as well as the value of good ingredients. – LH
53. Jeff Tweedy – “Enough”
The closing track of Tweedy’s triple-album Twilight Override, “Enough” is the perfect vehicle for his ethos of just trying to get by, with all the love he has. Within the song, he expresses a fear of losing time, running out of chances to spread love. But it finds its footing in a gooey guitar melody, providing a warm, amber glow to these worries. Vocal harmonies reinforce the togetherness Tweedy’s music imbues, as he sings, “Is your heart still tryin’? / Is your heart still alive?” It’s Tweedy’s call to cut ourselves some slack as we face each day—reinforcing the idea that we’re all in this together. – VC
52. Margo Price – “Don’t Let the Bastards Get You Down”
Margo Price makes her priorities clear in the first lines of this song: “Don’t let the bastards get you down/Don’t sell your heart to no businessman.” Price never has, even when it could’ve gotten her out of trouble with the Nashville establishment. She and her crack session band rip through “Don’t Let the Bastards Get You Down” like Studio A might catch fire if they let up. Blistering electric leads or no, this is 70s-indebted (but not derivative) country at its finest by one of the genre’s boldest voices. – LDF
51. Black Country, New Road – “Two Horses”
In Black Country, New Road’s “Two Horses,” May Kershaw paints a Western-style setting for one woman’s tale about her life—her horses—and the perils of trusting a stranger. Her journey across a dusty land toward a final unknown destination leads to a chance encounter and a moment of passion, which results in a tragic, inevitable end. The song’s ebb-and-flow pacing, its paper-thin mandolin and meandering woodwind notes signify a fatal change in action that will ultimately define her journey, and as the pace slows to a crawl, the story turns even more deadly. BCNR has taken a mellower, more folky, organic turn since Kershaw took over additional singing duties, and the band’s sound has benefited greatly from it. – ER
50. Tyler Childers – “Oneida”
A live favorite finally recorded on Tyler Childers’ outstanding 2025 album Snipe Hunter, “Oneida” is sometimes funny. But not because an under-21 boy pursues the titular older woman. “Oneida” is never a joke. Rather, the narrator (who’s occasionally the joke) finds himself moved by her longing for “back when the radio spoke to her heart.” Rick Rubin’s production gradually puts fiddle, rhythm section, and electric soloing behind Childers’ acoustic lead, but never overwhelms it or Childers’ voice. When the narrator learns one of Oneida’s favorite songs, I get a bit dusty: “I’ll strum my guitar and come in when I can/Harmonize on a line or two/This song’s all you.” – LDF
49. Dijon – “Yamaha”
To people of a certain age, the music of Dijon plops you right in the middle of a high school dance. A powerful fusion of ‘90s R&B and soul updated for the ‘20s, “Yamaha” is a joyous tune that gives New Jack Swing vibes with a sensuality that never entirely slips into sexy. His eager vocals enrapture the ears while a steady kick drum and sturdy bass lines provide superb slow-dance material. Sweet keyboard melodies power the tune, revealing a lovely mix of Prince, Seal, and Maxwell providing ebullient emotions that run counter to this era of bleak angst. – APN
48. Lambrini Girls – “Big Dick Energy”
There’s zero doubt that Brighton’s Lambrini Girls are tired of the chronic double standard that’s existed in humanity since Adam and Eve. Their debut album Who Let the Dogs Out is an angry 29 minutes of rage, lashing out at boys, economic disparity, sexist viewpoints, and toxic workplaces, while championing neurodiversity and sexual freedom in true punk fashion. “Big Dick Energy” is loaded with all of that vitriolic bluster as it calls out stereotypical come-ons and social situations that every person of the opposite sex dreads to hear, which is usually at the worst times: at the gym, walking home at night, or writing to express an alternate viewpoint in a male-dominated music industry. Their brash and stacked guitar riffs match the power of the group’s unapologetic lyrics to drill home the main point of “Big Dick Energy”: Like so many things women are told, many of men’s promises are simply just a fallacy. – ER
47. PinkPantheress – “Tonight”
English singer-producer PinkPantheress has earned her crown as the coolest pop star right now with new mixtape Fancy That. It’s hit-after-hit, 20 minutes long with speedy, earwormy songs clocking in at two minutes tops. PinkPantheress presents a salivating mood board: Y2K aesthetics in full force, nods to UK garage and electro pop, and rejuvenating dance legends Underworld and Basement Jaxx for younger audiences. Its playful standout is “Tonight,” one of the mixtape’s hard hitters. PinkPantheress flips a 2008 Panic! at the Disco sample to a twinkly, bouncy bassline, and turns up the cheeky sensuality: “You want sex with me? / Come talk to me.” She knows exactly how to captivate you—and make you dance. – DL
46. Destroyer – “Bologna” (feat. Fiver)
Destroyer’s fourteenth album, Dan’s Boogie, goes for broke: manic spoken-word deliveries, a six-piece band, symphonic stylings. In context, “Bologna” is skeletal, especially compared to hyperliterate frontman Dan Bejar’s typical logorrhea. But on its own terms, the noirish, bass-heavy single evokes worlds of meaning. To the song’s credit, Bejar yields the spotlight to Simone Schmidt, aka Fiver. “There’s an outside chance you’ll never see me again,” Schmidt sings, and you feel the weight of those words, hazy as their context may be. And Schmidt’s sultry voice is the perfect complement to both Bejar’s higher register and to the overall world the song paints. – CB
45. Hannah Frances – “Falling From and Further”
If you ever wished that Joni Mitchell got more into progressive rock or that singer-songwriters weren’t so tentative, Hannah Frances has heard you and replied with “give me a challenge next time.” That’s how “Falling From and Further” plays out as a part yeehaw folk, part Americana piece held together by manic mood swings. It oscillates between Frances’ meditations on those left and leaving, and short bursts of energy as if she’s trying to will herself to smile. Its three half-starts, on a metatextual level, reflect how grief is something you don’t quite get past. But every time Frances returns to the mic after a false start, she sounds fuller, adjusting to the grief and making it part of her instead of allowing it to control her. – CD
44. Boldy James and Real Bad Man – “It Factor” (feat. El-P)
Few emcees today are as prolific and as consistent as Boldy James. “It Factor” is just one single among the eight full-length albums Boldy released this year alone, and it doesn’t reach the heights of his better-known work with The Alchemist in the early 2020s. But it has all the elements that make him great: a sophisticated but markedly unhurried flow, sharp storytelling, and madcap metaphors (“On that open road, more adventurous than Bill and Ted.”) Add warm, jazz-inflected production from Real Bad Man and a zany verse from El-P, and you’ve got the makings of an endlessly replayable slice of old-school hip-hop. – CB
43. Jason Isbell – “Gravelweed”
Isbell’s position as a narrative songwriter is convenient cover for a song that’s absolutely about his own divorce. We are the better for it; his poet’s eye allows enough self-criticism that lays like salt in the wound, a truer kind of miserablism you only get from staring down at your own failings. It stings the heart in a way any who have been heartbroken will know, especially at an age where the easy cheap fixes of booze and flippant anger don’t appeal anymore. He writes music from the knife hole. – LH
42. Open Mike Eagle – “ok but i’m the phone screen”
Maybe it was a bad idea to put our whole lives in a computer small enough to keep in our pockets and fragile enough to shatter when we drop it. Open Mike Eagle works through the frustration of seeing his phone get run over in the street, taking inventory of all the projects he’s lost against a warped but breezy loop from Child Actor: “I started ideas for like eight or nine songs/And some of ’em was two minutes long.” But it’s clearly about more than a phone, little pieces of himself shattering to bits right in front of him. Mike tries not to let a sense of grief overtake him, but cutting that technological tether proves traumatic all the same. “This a little like when RZA’s basement flooded and he lost all them discs… but like less, less devastating,” he says before the song comes to a close. And on the outside, he’s right, but when you’re in it? It’s as devastating as it gets. -JT
41. The Callous Daoboys – “Distracted by the Mona Lisa”
Callous Daoboys do the unspeakable by taking the wind out of the sails of those who’d seek to eradicate “metalcore” from the contemporary music lexicon. Listeners were warned Callous Daoboys had this potential, after striking near-death blows with “Star Baby,” “A Brief Article Regarding Time Loops” and “What Is Delicious? Who Swarms?” But this unfairly catchy song packs a helluva punch and lays naysayers down on the mat for the count. The lyrics “I’ll wait for you to leave the altar/ ‘Cause I coulda picked something easier/ I coulda been a contender”? Chef’s kiss. -KO
40. Messa – “The Dress”
“The Dress,” the epic eight-minute centerpiece of Messa’s stunning The Spin, never quite reveals where its crooked, precarious path leads. A monolith of progressive, gothic metal, “The Dress” carries an elegant design, colossal in scope but delicate enough not to be consumed by its roar. Incredibly and seamlessly, the band transition into a smoky noir jazz interlude that seems to emerge like a blanket of fog amid a thunderstorm. Beautifully executed within a uniform palette of darkness, “The Dress” is a shape-shifting labyrinthine wonder. – JT
39. Preservation & Gabe ‘Nandez – “Mondo Cane” (feat. Armand Hammer & Benjamin Booker)
Gabe ‘Nandez offers his esoteric observations from the shadows through most of Sortilège, but “Mondo Cane” is a cosmic, psychedelic experience so bright you can’t gaze directly at it. Preservation’s production is a slow motion landscape of throbbing synths and cascading pianos, gorgeous and otherworldly, beautifully eerie. Its name taken from an Italian anthology film of global scenes intended to shock Western audiences, “Mondo Cane” offers three different camera perspectives, ‘Nandez, billy woods and ELUCID each offering verses rife with pit-of-your-stomach feelings of anguish and horror, from acts of horrific violence (“pieces flung, children and body parts, eat the young“) to the loss of what can never return (“It burned, we didn’t choke/This desert was a jungle once“). It’s an inventory of the horrible made strangely beautiful. -JT
38. Guerilla Toss – “Panglossian Mannequin”
Applying a personal twist to a classic formula can often be the best way to create a song that’s loaded with character and absolutely bangs, and that’s exactly what Guerilla Toss did when they took the loud-quiet-loud dynamics of alt-rock and stitched them together with something just a little more fresh and funky. The resulting tune, “Panglossian Mannequin” is a fun, bouncy verse awash with groovy basslines and sultry, whispers that pivots seamlessly to a brazen, fuzz-heavy chorus, all pounding percussion and snotty, pop-punk vocals that would sit perfectly alongside anything the early noughties had to offer. – EBr
37. The Armed – “Sharp Teeth”
After The Armed failed to save the world through art (an impossible task, but we thank them for trying), the collective returned with THE FUTURE IS HERE AND EVERYTHING NEEDS TO BE DESTROYED, a violent rejection of the apathy and ignorance embedded in modern life’s Terms and Conditions. In “Sharp Teeth,” Tony Wolski revisits what he described as “the hands-down worst time of my entire life” in a song that comes as close to a pop song as The Armed dare get. Cara Drolshagen’s vocals provide a vulnerable introspection against howls of agony, inspiring empathy. It is grace amongst the wreckage, a glimmer of the coming dawn reflecting off a shard of broken glass. – JB
36. Tyler, the Creator – “Don’t Tap That Glass/Tweakin'”
Probably the highest profile surprise release of the year, Tyler, The Creator’s ninth solo album Don’t Tap The Glass is his shortest, sharpest and most straight-up club-ready full-length. Tyler has claimed that his goals with the album are simply “to be fun,” “say outrageous shit” and “be silly again”. The title track (which is, in typically bold Tyler fashion, fused to another track titled “Tweakin’”) is full of said outrageous lyrics; see funny, rude bars like “you can get a workout, not in the gym bitch/you ain’t gotta lie, we can smell the Ozempic.” It’s also one of his hardest bangers, riding a New Orleans bounce-channeling 808 beat overlaid with sinister bass stabs and oppressive piano and string samples. Like much of its creator’s brash oeuvre, it’s as sordid and gratifying as a forbidden cigarette. – TM
35. Baths – “Eden”
Will Wiesenfeld has worked his way toward mastering the art of eclectic storytelling in his songwriting, a skill he continues to hone with the release of his exemplary 2025 record, Gut. “Eden” is most representative of its stirring brightness, Wiesenfeld sweetly singing to an angel to embrace his humanity rather than his immortality, a yearning rendered amidst the tender gallop of drums and swells of violins. It’s engaging the divine with the human spirit, one that might be impossible to reach. But Baths makes it feel so real. – LP
34. Fontaines D.C. – “It’s Amazing to Be Young”
Fontaines D.C. closed out their 2024 album Romance with its brightest moment, the warm and magnetic love song “Favourite.” With the addition of bonus track “It’s Amazing to Be Young,” the band carries that optimism and jangle forward rather than the anxiety that precedes it. Inspired by guitarist Carlos O’Connell’s entry into fatherhood, “Young” is the band at their most wistful and reflective, wrapped in the sounds of ’80s UK a la The Smiths and The Cure. But it’s not mired in gloom; when Grian Chatten belts the title phrase in the song’s final act, it’s a windows-open, sunlit moment of screaming to—not at—the world. – JT
33. Lifeguard – “Like You’ll Lose”
A pulsing, mesmeric bassline is the listener’s lifeline on “Like You’ll Lose,” cutting with a kind of sinister serenity through the spooky, chaotic haze provided by the band’s distant, wailing horns and scratchy, erratic bursts of guitar. It’s a textured soundscape whose intensity doesn’t come from feeling up close and personal, but rather, the opposite; it feels distant, and unknowable, yet all-encompassing, a kind of glitchy sonic mist that provokes both curiosity and malaise in equal measure. – EBr
32. Eli Winter – “Arabian Nightingale”
The mesmerizing psychedelic journey of “Arabian Nightingale,” a 16-minute interpretation of a Don Cherry composition from the 1980s that opens A Trick of the Light, neatly puts to rest the idea that Eli Winter’s music rests squarely in the realm of folk or Americana. Past collaborations with the likes of David Grubbs and the late jaimie branch proved Winter a versatile multidisciplinary artist, but “Arabian Nightingale” is a breakthrough of a different kind, not just influenced by spiritual jazz but channeling a mind-bending spiritual experience in and of itself. Winter trades acoustic guitar for a distorted electric, while Gerrit Hatcher’s saxophone escalates the fire and intensity and Sam Wagster’s pedal steel captures an eerie emotional power. Until its eventual collapse and gentle denouement, “Arabian Nightingale” only keeps soaring higher, a phoenix rising until there’s nothing left to burn. – JT
31. Deftones – “milk of the madonna”
The distinct lyrical approach of Deftones frontman Chino Moreno has been adroitly described as “suggesting emotions rather than announcing them.” This neatly captures the unique and widely-loved milieu that his lyrics frequently adopt; “milk of the madonna” initially seems to be a familiar bit of Moreno suggestive eroticism, however, religious and spiritual imagery is the name of the game on this propulsive banger. Invoking the “Holy Spirit,” “floods” and “tongues of fire,” Moreno’s Christian imagery marries up against the marvelous textural vistas that he alone can conjure, such as the beautiful “feel the waves crash against the concrete” image. One of the most immediately anthemic tracks on Deftones’ Private Music, “milk of the madonna” captures everything the band do so well in one four-minute rager. – TM
30. Annahstasia – “Villain”
Most of the songs on Tether, the debut album by singer/songwriter Annahstasia, are made from stark, barely there elements—mainly her finger-picked guitar and emotionally resonant vocal presence. That’s where “Villain” starts, anyway, but not where it ends, the gentle plucks of her guitar a gravitational force that soon pulls in piano, drums and a bright and majestic streak of horns as she casts out the troubling emotional flotsam from a broken relationship: “Take it, take it back/all the anger and fury.” But it’s the miraculous eruption of a choir backing Annahstasia’s cry, “Say I’m the villain of the story!” that becomes the most powerful addition to an already gorgeous ascent upward. Letting go never felt so cathartic. – JT
29. Armand Hammer & The Alchemist – “Peshawar”
I imagine a few people have already asked ChatGPT to attempt to write a song in the style of Armand Hammer, and I imagine those people have either been disappointed or had their priors confirmed. On “Peshawar,” one of the most immediate songs on Mercy—a shimmering psychedelic groove among a shadowy, cinematic landscape—billy woods briefly turns Roy Batty at the thought of language learning models taking up his trade (“Tears in my eyes listening to machines make music (It’s beautiful)”). But as woods and ELUCID navigate a labyrinth of human hubris, they do so through flashes of imagery and callbacks to past songs, a complex and braided thread that dares AI to follow them down their labyrinthine lyrical rabbit hole. While woods invokes Dune in his own warning, “Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a human,” ELUCID reminds us that the good book tells us not to write checks our asses can’t cash: “Blind faith without works is dead.” As the music fades, a series of sampled voices promise, “We get what we really ask for,” an ironic appendix to a series of positive affirmations. And another finger on the monkey’s paw curls. – JT
28. Jim Ghedi – “What Will Become of England”
The origins of “What Will Become of England,” like a lot of songs in the public domain, are hazy. Alan Lomax recorded Harry Cox singing it in 1953, and he heard it first from a “bloke in a pub” who played tin whistle, though Cox could only remember two verses out of nine. But also like any folk song that survives for the better part of a century or more, “What Will Become of England” is shaped by its performer, and in the hands of English artist Jim Ghedi, a sorrowful barroom lament becomes an apocalyptic warning. Built on a bed of eerie, droning strings and mournful acoustic strings with an intense and purposeful buzz, Ghedi’s version depicts a land unfamiliar in its decline: “He cannot find employment, for bread his children cry/And hundreds of his children now lay in their grave.” As Ghedi’s voice retreats, the dirge ripples with terrifying siren-like synth tones, escalating a timeless critique of inept and indifferent power into a harrowing cry of urgency. – JT
27. Ratboys – “Light Night Mountains All That”
We can typically count on Ratboys to deliver something with an infectious melody and a scruffy charm, but rarely is their music as hard-driving as it is on “Light Night Mountains All That.” Built on a tense rhythm and stormy guitar squalls, it doesn’t sound so much like a studio product as a climactic live take, Julia Steiner practically running out of breath as she shouts, “You didn’t care, you didn’t care.” Ratboys scarcely let up throughout its six minutes even as the tension becomes untenable—they’ve never sounded so in love with danger, and it suits them. – JT
26. Nourished by Time – “BABY BABY”
Marcus Brown played it cool on Erotic Probiotic 2, his debut as Nourished by Time, but whether it’s due to a greater confidence in himself or just not giving a shit, he realized that you don’t need to play it cool if you are cool. Case in point, “BABY BABY,” the explosive third single from The Passionate Ones. Brown previously flirted with dance music, but he’s not coy here. He urges you to “turn your fucking brain off.” The song is an odd coupling of post-punk and club, a would-be disastrous combination, but Brown is too charismatic and the beat is too jubilant for you to do anything other than what he commands. – CD
25. Deafheaven – “Winona”
On Deafheaven’s Lonely People with Power, one of 2025’s best albums, the blackgaze band often distills their immense power into shorter-than-average (for them) songs. So when they stretch beyond seven minutes, as on “Winona,” their sound’s grand sweep pummels you into whiplash. LPWP’s penultimate track showcases everything that makes this group special: Daniel Tracy’s thundering drums, Chris Johnson’s sprightly bass, a guitar attack by Kerry McCoy and Shiv Mehta more symphonic than most string sections, furious indictment of generational trauma by George Clarke. As he howls “Power bastard, pathetic master/I’m reliving Saturn eating,” the band chugs in lockstep, then twists into chaos when Clarke hatefully admits, “His flesh is everything of mine!” A highlight not just of Deafheaven’s best album yet, but also their career. – LDF
24. Tortoise – “Oganesson”
Artistically speaking, people have different perspectives on music on the Third Coast. Tortoise, the Chicago post-rock band and veterans of the city’s influential DIY scene, is a dynamic, ever-evolving entity that mirrors its city’s musicians’ workmanlike credo. Blending the rigids, much like fusion cuisine, is an apt description for the genre restriction-free approach they subscribe to. Those sounds they created decades ago can now be heard on niche music festival stages, big box Coachella biters, and, most certainly, the alt-jazz spaces that have swelled with fans due to a new wave of UK and American artists reviving the genre with beats, soundsystem influence, and our modern digital literacy.
With Touch, their first album in a decade, there are tracks you could hear at a rave, like “Elka,” or classical choral chaos mixed with lyrical guitar lines on “Rated OG.” But it’s the James-Bond-goes-beat-diggin-for-Blue-Note breakbeats feel of “Oganesson” that places that sleuth-like element upfront, and those jazzy figures in the back. It explores ideas about instrumental music being environmental, groove-like, and conversational until we reach the end and sense this ominous, droning substance lurking beneath. That’s Tortoise for you, presenting one thing and then getting all David Lynchian, turning things on its head as we focus real close before fading out. Good to have them back. – JPS
23. The Beths – “No Joy”
On a recent “What’s In My Bag” episode with The Beths, vocalist Elizabeth Stokes blindly whips out the Buzzcocks’ Singles Going Steady compilation. Stokes would check it out on CD from her local library and drive home from work listening to it. Finally, on Amoeba’s dime, she decided she needed to own it. She mentions in the video, “It’s succinct, quick, energetic, love the tempos.”
That’s a proper assessment of the three-minute-and-change power-pop burst of honesty, “No Joy,” which one can assume pertains to the writer’s block she had, or the reaction to the SSRI medication she took a couple of years back. What’s definite are the quick, sharp, economical lyrics: “This year’s gonna kill me / Gonna kill me,” wrapped in quick-hitting spurts of lyrics, chorus pattern over a chest-thumping power-pop gift of simplicity, wrapped with a bow. There’s no ambiguity in that feeling, only hat-tip reverence for those “succinct” Buzzcocks. – JPS
22. No Joy – “Bits”
The stereotype of an insular, autumnal form of shoegaze is the prevailing one, particularly when paired with misanthropic grunge, but to fixate on its gloomier corners is to overlook its brighter, prettier, more sun-dappled counterparts. No Joy’s Jasamine White-Gluz traffics in power chord crunch and dream pop twinkle alike—both of which are present in ample supply on Bugland‘s standout “Bits.” But, White-Gluz’s long-running project name aside, the song is rife with joy and romance, the kind of summery song you’d sing along with if you could decipher the words, of which there aren’t many. The one she keeps repeating, “Break my heart out,” is the one you’ll feel the hardest. – JT
21. Lady Gaga – “Abracadabra”
After more than a decade of artistic expansions, Mommy Monster came full circle on this year’s Mayhem. Lady Gaga’s stylish return to the aggressive dance-pop that helped outline the 21st century was crystallized in this frenetic lead single—”Feel the beat under your feet, the floor’s on firе.” A Siouxsie and the Banshees riff introduces the chorus, and theatrical vocals trace the synth and rhythm lines after it. Employing operatic glossolalia and snappy lyrics referencing multiple myths, Gaga’s literate neo-disco frames faith in your own efforts and skills as a path to good karma. – AB
20. Chat Pile & Hayden Pedigo – “The Matador”
In The Earth Again is a haunting work, noise rock outfit Chat Pile and Americana guitarist Hayden Pedigo crafting an oppressive air of dread through alternately lush and crushing sounds. That atmosphere is primarily built out of slow burn horror, which gives way to explosive moments like “The Matador.” Following an eerie industrial noise intro, Chat Pile and Pedigo unleash a barrage of sludge groove. Chat Pile’s vocalist Raygun Busch looks through the eyes of someone overwhelmed by the world around them: “If I blew out my mind / For all the tears we cried / If I sleep they may die / This haunted world and I.” The stunning centerpiece of a breathtaking whole, “The Matador” captures a riveting menace. – MP
19. Panda Bear – “Praise”
Part of what makes Animal Collective’s generally batshit music so compelling is Panda Bear’s presence as a grounding force. In his solo work, even at its most experimental, that calm energy takes centerstage. But while Panda often washes his voice in reverb at the expense of some immediacy, “Praise” is the brightest he’s ever sounded: analog, sun-soaked, with an arrangement so bubbly you hardly notice the song is about unrequited love. Light on atmosphere and heavily reliant on melody, it gives the overall impression of a contented veteran chilling in a cabana, reflecting on tough feelings with a balanced optimism. – CB
18. Agriculture – “Bodhidharma”
Anything partially resembling black metal has its historical haters, despite the typically one-note (but still glorious) genre being reinvented weirdly well across this century. Agriculture are that next iteration, celebrating the ecstasy that can be found in quiet space and pure chaos throughout The Spiritual Sound, and exemplified in the resounding “Bodhidharma.” That rare thing of sharing the meditative process of the songwriters is right here; time and again the repeated big riff motif arrives as a glorious gut-punch amid a patiently built track that can defy even the most skeptical listeners about music’s power to heal. – EBu
17. Stereolab – “Melodie Is a Wound”
Few people saw a new Stereolab album on the horizon. The cult band returned from a 15-year hiatus sounding like they’d never left with the confident, clever and cool-as-ever Instant Holograms on Metal Film. Stereolab songs almost necessitate a lengthy runtime. Their musical ideas need time to groove and develop, like on “Melodie Is A Wound,” which smashes two songs together. Shifting from indie-pop to gentle acid jazz, the band then utilize a fake ending that segues into a breezy psych jam second half. It’s enormous fun and does basically everything Stereolab can do within the space of its generous runtime. Lætitia Sadier’s lyrics are also worth noting. Lines like “cultivate ignorance and hate” and “the goal is to manipulate” seem to criticize the tabloid press and/or media elites, revealing the more serious, less-sunny side of Stereolab’s familiar colorful palette. – TM
16. Cate Le Bon – “Heaven Is No Feeling”
Proof that expressing your innermost thoughts doesn’t have to be over-the-top or melodramatic, “Heaven Is No Feeling” manages to have big feelings while also sounding leisurely and dreamy. Rooted in Cate Le Bon’s rich alto, the song combines cavernous drumming, creaking keyboard lines, sleepy horn bleats and languid guitars. The entire effect conjures images of long walks on a chilly beach at dusk in late fall as you have a difficult conversation with a loved one. The elite counterbalance between emotional turbulence and sublime musicality once again showcases Le Bon’s immense talents. – APN
15. Earl Sweatshirt – “exhaust”
“I’m airmailing you strength.” You can still hear the pain and distrust from I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside (“The fake shit don’t surprise me”), but there’s something uplifting about this song that counterbalances it without negating it. Much has been made of Live Laugh Love being a relatively joyful album, but as its title suggests, there’s still irony and self-awareness to it. “exhaust”—co-produced by Navy Blue and Earl Sweatshirt—features an angelic vocal sample whose levity balances the fatigue reflected in the lyrics. “Airmailing you strength”—it’s as if to say: you’re going to need it, but some kind of hope is on the way. – TD
14. Clipse – “Chains & Whips” (feat. Kendrick Lamar)
When Pusha T and Kendrick Lamar first traded verses on “Nosestalgia” back in 2013, KDot opened his by asking, “You wanna see a dead body?” Then we heard “Infrared,” “The Story of AdiDon,” “Meet the Grahams” and “Not Like Us,” and well, you see where this is going. It’s understandable, given what preceded “Chains & Whips,” that Def Jam balked on the idea of the two emcees sharing space on the same song again. That much firepower in the same room proved too precarious, and “Chains & Whips” offers a reminder of how incendiary a combination the two rappers can be, not to mention the addition of Malice, the other half of the Virginia Beach rap duo. No specific object of any of the three rappers’ ire is singled out on the bombastic, organ-driven track (with guitar from Lenny Kravitz no less), but they make perfectly clear they’re not interested in burying the hatchet: “I’m not the candidate to vibe with/I don’t fuck with the Kumbaya shit.” A cautious record company executive suite might’ve steered clear of the smoke, but instead missed out on the fire. – JT
13. Turnstile – “Never Enough”
The title track from Turnstile’s Never Enough served as the lead single for the album, providing additional momentum to the already grandiose swell of hype surrounding the new release. A great deal of charm lies in the light-hearted hook in its simple repetitive vocal line, the sound of what happens when punk fully embraces its pop tendencies. It’s a key piece of evidence that there is an appeal to pop music being written by an actual band playing instruments in a rehearsal studio, and its infectious nature found it standing the test of time, a standout anthem still worthy of every repeat play. – WL
12. Dry Cleaning – “Hit My Head All Day”
Equipped with vocalist Florence Shaw’s cooing, hypnotizing spoken word delivery, “Hit My Head All Day” is a glowing new high for London’s Dry Cleaning. The single is grounded by an intoxicating bass line from Lewis Maynard, and crisp drums from Nick Buxton. Produced by Cate Le Bon, the song has an addictive quality as it dives into a hypnotic pattern, breaking free as Tom Dowse’s guitar shatters the warm monotony. Distorted guitars lead it out into a hazy, whirring end, sort of a representation of the lasting effects of its power. It’s akin to spinning around too much and being stuck with a joyful dizziness. – VC
11. Burial – “Comafields”
Throughout his work as Burial, William Bevan specializes in channeling the go-ahead fervor of dance music toward murky and melancholy ends. “Comafields,” the twelve-minute A-side of the South London producer’s latest EP, is no exception. The kick is there but muted under shadowy drones, found audio and twisted alien vocal textures (“You put your arms around me,” runs the central, stretched-out sample). Even though the song plays like a suite, with brief silences demarcating section breaks, there’s a sense of recurrence without arrival, a tension that rewards repeated listens. This is music for thinking, or drowning, or yearning, or all of the above. – CB
10. Nine Inch Nails – “As Alive As You Need Me to Be”
Tron: Ares was the first instance where Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross attached the Nine Inch Nails moniker to one of their film soundtrack projects. In doing so, they brought expectations of that outfit’s rock largesse and nihilistic themes instead of the more ambient and occasionally precious work they’ve done under their government names. With the film addressing fantastical theoretical connections between technology and society, NIN delivered this synthpop banger about inevitability—”Never any other way, there’s no turning back/Everything for a reason.” Drenched in vocoders, it also references a bit player from the original 1982 film. – AB
9. Lucrecia Dalt – “cosa rara” (feat. David Sylvian)
When dabbling with the avant-garde, it’s easy to get lost in the sauce and, in doing, lose track of the form you are trying to destabilize and break open. Not so with Dalt; here, with obvious genius David Sylvian, she continues to take bolero, break its bones and implant new alien sounds and textures. It’s forbidding, caught between heady arthouse music and songs designed to make you dance, refusing to choose one or the other. It’s as sexy as it is horrific, spiderwebs in the shape of a woman, and that’s before Sylvian’s broken blues monologue over that slinking bass and the dark scrape of metal. There’s a reason we love her music so much. – LH
8. Sudan Archives – “My Type”
Sudan Archives’ Brittney Parks introduced a conceptual alter-ego of sorts on The BPM: Gadget Girl, a personified extension of her own employment of technology in developing her singular electro-R&B sound. But despite however many loops, samplers, effects and synths were used in the creation of “My Type,” it’s a song that feels only human to love. An outsize house/disco anthem with the kind of bassline that could get limbs and asses moving as if by magic, “My Type” is the feeling of instant infatuation and excitement, the thrill of your heart thumping to the beat of the dancefloor pulse. “Yeah, yeah, no, I don’t got a type,” Parks confesses, “But I love it when she drives and she doesn’t ask why.” What comes next hardly seems to matter when what’s happening here and now feels this good. – JT
7. Geese – “Long Island City Here I Come”
The closing track on Geese’s fourth record, Getting Killed, is a passionate and life-affirming rumination that touches on hope, restlessness, urgency, creativity, religion, life, and death. Or at least, that’s what I got from it. With all the desperate clattering and clamoring of the band’s instrumentation, hastily wrestling for space alongside Cameron Winter’s poetic vocals, “Long Island City Here I Come,” is one of those songs that is beautifully open to interpretation, surging forward with such a gripping emotive force that even if you can’t grasp the specifics, you know that it’s talking deeply about something. So, maybe I’m right. Or maybe it’s just a surreal if enthusiastic audition for chief jingle-writer at the Long Island City tourist board. Either way, it’s an incredible ride. – EBr
6. Circuit des Yeux – “Canopy of Eden”
“I can make a radio break,” the intoxicating, sing-along chorus delivered by Chicago’s Haley Fohr, aka Circuit des Yeux, in her singular low-register croon on “Canopy of Eden” might just actually make your radio break as a result of the desire to press play over and over again. It’s that addictive. A throbbing epic designed for post-apocalyptic dancefloors, “Canopy of Eden,” from Fohr’s Halo On The Inside, improbably balances bleak doom and earworm-level contagiousness with pulsating abandon. The synthesizer-spattered electro-pop danceability that the beats-groovy “Canopy of Eden” surges with over-the-top banger-level intensity. – BC
5. billy woods – “Corinthians” (feat. Despot)
Out of all the horrifying tracks on Golliwog, the El-P-produced “Corinthians” is the most harrowing. There are no nihilists as articulate as billy woods, who points fingers and barrels at the fetishization of oil, technology, and space travel that have put human rights on the backburner. He shows how preposterous it all is, and puts you in a Clockwork Orange scenario as a powerless scarecrow, forced to watch the scene unfold. However, it’s Despot that shines here, delivering arguably the verse of the year that asks, both more eloquently and crassly, “Why am I alive when the world is going to shit?” And, if he has to endure this, he has some questions for the god who put him here. – CD
4. Greet Death – “Country Girl”
Nobody listens to shoegaze for the lyrics—I still don’t know what most of the words are on Loveless after all this time, and it doesn’t matter, because I can feel every emotion that pours out if it in spite of that. But then again “shoegaze,” despite the band’s other pedalboard triumphs, isn’t exactly the right description for “Country Girl,” the sprawling six-minute internal road movie of an epic from Flint, Michigan’s Greet Death, a song with endless emotional depth but with no wall of distortion to drown out Harper Boyhtari’s narration of alienation and the elusive promise of greater things. Every detail is a headphone endorphin release, from its Cocteau Twins shimmer to its Siamese Dream soloing, to how Boyhtari unravels romantic illusions via Halloween: “Michael Myers was an Illinois kid/So he’s a country boy and I’m his country queen/But Halloween was filmed in California/And Laurie Strode has never been to Venice Beach.” When the fuzz arrives, it’s a supporting player in a journey of self-discovery, a magnifying lens on an already breathtaking view. – JT
3. FKA twigs – “Girl Feels Good”
Full disclosure: It’s difficult for me to be objective about this song, as it helped me realize my transfeminine identity. That said, I have zero reservations calling “Girl Feels Good” one of 2025’s best songs. FKA twigs and collaborators including Koreless and Marius de Vries created a titanic, multifaceted triumph: An impeccable hook-packed pop song. A ’90s trip-hop homage that sounds entirely fresh. A full-throated paean to womanhood (“Your mother’s, sister’s, lover’s heart is where there’s healing”). A showcase for twigs’ never-better vocals (the wordless high note she hits in the song’s coda will blow your fucking mind if it hasn’t already).
This wasn’t one of EUSEXUA’s singles. Instead, it illustrates how nearly every song from that album was single material. “Girl Feels Good” is a thing of beauty, best epitomized by twigs’ own words: “When a girl feels good it makes the world go ’round/When the night feels young, you know she feels pretty/A girl feels good, and the world goes ’round/Turn your love up loud to keep the devil down.” – LDF
2. Model/Actriz – “Cinderella”
Astonishing. That’s the review. It’s the first word uttered by Cole Haden on “Cinderalla,” and it’s the last word left in my mind as the jittering post-punk riff rushes ever so slightly to a sudden halt. The fairy tale in question pops out of Haden’s confessional anecdote and serves a bigger role than mere effeminence. The otherwise fragmentary lyrics come into focus through the allegory of Cinderella’s repression, glow-up, and her fleeting brush with love and recognition. Suddenly the song becomes a story of serendipitous queer awakening through a missed connection, that brush with knowing and being known that can be all too fleeting when we’re not ready. But in the end it’s not quite so simple, or magical, no matter the disappointment or pain: “Just know I won’t leave as I came.” – FA
1. Wednesday – “Townies”
“Townies” is like a great short story. It packs abundant narrative complexity into a short runtime, looking back on adolescence, casual cruelty, death, and the layers of perspective that time grants—and it absolutely rocks. I’m struck by the compression and density of the small moments; a word like “Died” functions like a plot twist, the slight pause at the end of the verse marking a sudden turn in the narrative, and a single line, “Stokin’ bonfires with leaf blowers,” does so much work in terms of establishing the setting that’s being conjured out of memory.
“Townies” is a short story with a light touch; fine details, both lyrical and musical, speak volumes. A single word like “Down,” the way Karly Hartzman sings it, stretching it out over several notes, packs a huge punch. At the end of the song, Hartzman’s vocals keep rising over caterwauling guitar. It’s painful and wistful, and there’s a kind of catharsis. But that catharsis isn’t the result of an easy resolution.
“Townies” is a song about people hurting people, and about the perspective that comes as you get older and look back on the past. Rather than putting a bow on things, the song presents these impressionistic memories and complicated feelings like a good short story does, leaving us to reflect on it well after it’s over. – TD
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