Adam Paddock, akloh., Alessia Cara, Alix Page, Amanda Bergman, Anika, Aranda, Armlock, BABYMETAL & Poppy, Ben Fuller & Molly Kate Kestner, Billie Marten, Billy Woods, Blondshell, Bon Iver, Chandler Leighton, Chaparelle, Zella Day, & Jesse Woods, Chappell Roan, Chartreuse, Courting, DARKSIDE, Dijon, Doja Cat, Dove Ellis, Eleni Drake, Erika de Casier, Etta Marcus, Fabrizio Cammarata, First Day Back, Geese, Greg Freeman, HAIM, Hudson Freeman, JADE, Jadu Heart, Jane Remover, Joy Crookes, Justin Bieber, Karol G, Kiki Holli, Lady Gaga, Lecx Stacy, Léna Bartels, Lily Allen, Lip Critic, Madison Margot, MARINA, Matt Berninger, Medium Build, Messa, Mon Rovia, Mulasaki Ima, néomí, Nicotine Dolls, NLE The Great, Nova Twins, Of Monsters and Men, Olie Beckett, Olivia Dean, Panda Bear, Passing Thoughts, Penelope Road, Petey USA, PinkPantheress, Prewn, Psychedelic Porn Crumpets, Rainbow Kitten Surprise, Reneé Rapp, Renny Conti, Role Model, Royel Otis, Sabrina Carpenter, Samia, Selena Gomez & Benny Blanco, Shoka Sunflower, Snacktime, sombr, Sorry, Swervedriver, Sylvaner, Tame Impala, Tate McRae, Taylor Swift, Teen Jesus and the Jean Teasers, The Favors, The Format, The Hails, The Happy Return, The Head and The Heart, The Heartstrings Project, The Knocks & Dragonette, The Orchestra (For Now), The SteelDrivers, THEKOIWAY, This Is Lorelei & MJ Lenderman, Tyler, The Creator, Vansire, Wednesday, Young Miko, Zain Effendi

From all of us here at Atwood Magazine, we wish you a happy and healthy new year!

In 2025, songs mattered again. Not just as quick hits or background noise, but as moments you could step into and feel fully – lived-in snapshots shaped by real time, real feeling, and real intention. The songs released this year met us where we were: In the car, on the dance floor, in our headphones late at night. In a year that often felt fractured and overwhelming, tracks like Olivia Dean’s “Nice to Each Other,” Dijon’s euphoric gut-punch “HIGHER!” and Billie Marten’s hushed, heart-opening “Feeling” offered clarity, release, and connection – a way to feel something all the way through, even if only for three or four minutes at a time.

Across genres and scenes, artists leaned into songwriting with renewed purpose. Some delivered joy and radiance, others tension, chaos, and confrontation. Massive pop heavyweights like Sabrina Carpenter, Doja Cat, Taylor Swift, Chappell Roan, and Lady Gaga shaped the cultural conversation in real time, while indie and alternative voices carved out equally indelible spaces – from the communal warmth of The Head and the Heart to the bruised, self-searching honesty of Medium Build and Petey USA, from Rosalía’s boundary-pushing, genre-defiant experimentation and PinkPantheress’ internet-native intimacy to Spiritbox’s cathartic heaviness and Little Simz’s razor-sharp lyrical command, from the long-awaited emotional return of The Format to néomí’s tender introspection and the funk-soaked, soul-deep magnetism of Penelope Road. Together, these songs painted a portrait of a year defined by contrast: Comfort and unrest, clarity and confusion, hope and ache living side by side.

Just as powerful was the way individual songs became anchors – tracks we returned to again and again, not because they demanded it, but because they earned it. These weren’t just singles designed to make noise; they were songs that lingered, that grew with each listen, that quietly reshaped the emotional landscape of the year. Whether through a devastating lyric, an undeniable hook, or a feeling you couldn’t quite name, these songs found a way to stay with us.

Atwood Magazine’s mission has always been to celebrate music across genres, communities, and lived experience, and this year that meant honoring songs that felt intentional – written with care, conviction, and something to say. From massive pop moments to deeply personal indie releases, from artists cementing legacies to those breaking through in real time, these songs reminded us why a single melody can still carry enormous weight.

As the year comes to a close, our staff took a step back to honor the songs, albums, concerts, and artist discoveries that had the greatest impact on our lives. These are our favorites – the tracks that stayed on repeat, shaped our listening, soundtracked our days, and gave form to what this year felt like.

Without further ado, Atwood Magazine is proud to present our curated list of 2025’s Songs of the Year, in alphabetical order by artist. Please join us in celebrating 2025’s contributions to the music world!

Mitch Mosk, Editor-in-Chief

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Atwood’s 2025 Music of the Year 

The Best Songs of 2025

Click on the artist’s name to skip right to their entry!

Adam Paddock, akloh., Alessia Cara, Alix Page, Amanda Bergman, Anika, Aranda, Armlock, BABYMETAL & Poppy, Ben Fuller & Molly Kate Kestner, Billie Marten, Billy Woods, Blondshell, Bon Iver, Chandler Leighton, Chaparelle, Zella Day, & Jesse Woods, Chappell Roan, Chartreuse, Courting, DARKSIDE, Dijon, Doja Cat, Dove Ellis, Eleni Drake, Erika de Casier, Etta Marcus, Fabrizio Cammarata, First Day Back, Geese, Greg Freeman, HAIM, Hudson Freeman, JADE, Jadu Heart, Jane Remover, Joy Crookes, Justin Bieber, Karol G, Kiki Holli, Lady Gaga, Lecx Stacy, Léna Bartels, Lily Allen, Lip Critic, Madison Margot, MARINA, Matt Berninger, Medium Build, Messa, Mon Rovia, Mulasaki Ima, néomí, Nicotine Dolls, NLE The Great, Nova Twins, Of Monsters and Men, Olie Beckett, Olivia Dean, Panda Bear, Passing Thoughts, Penelope Road, Petey USA, PinkPantheress, Prewn, Psychedelic Porn Crumpets, Rainbow Kitten Surprise, Reneé Rapp, Renny Conti, Role Model, Royel Otis, Sabrina Carpenter, Samia, Selena Gomez & Benny Blanco, Shoka Sunflower, Snacktime, sombr, Sorry, Swervedriver, Sylvaner, Tame Impala, Tate McRae, Taylor Swift, Teen Jesus and the Jean Teasers, The Favors, The Format, The Hails, The Happy Return, The Head and The Heart, The Heartstrings Project, The Knocks & Dragonette, The Orchestra (For Now), The SteelDrivers, THEKOIWAY, This Is Lorelei & MJ Lenderman, Tyler, The Creator, Vansire, Wednesday, Young Miko, Zain Effendi

Performed regularly in the lead up to the release of Columbus, OH-born and Nashville-based rising artist Adam Paddock’s latest album THE GREATEST COMPROMISE, “TENDER,” even unreleased, was an immediate standout of his steadily growing catalog. From the onset, “TENDER” is effervescently warm, and perfectly captures the essence of fleeting summer nights, as Paddock’s well-placed head mix vocal delivery in the verses, assisted by an accompanying trumpet motif, wash over the listener like the warm glow of the sun poking out from behind the clouds in the early evening hours: “Something tender, like two in the morning. Like, you in my arms. A light coming through, shining all over you.”

Of course, Paddock, who rarely sits in a place of musical modesty for very long, traverses into his jarringly strong chest belt and upper chest mix later in the tune, occasionally shifting his tone to a darker, richer position. His musical accompaniment does little to reserve its fury either, crashing in, and, at one point, dropping out to nothingness, with expert-level dynamics and technical merit. – Noah Wade

Meet akloh., the stage name of Buffalo, NY-based singer-songwriter Jorian Holka, and his force of nature “ordinary,” an album track off his latest project anthology. Featuring an instrumental motif and emotional aesthetic that is recognizable from its first beat, the tune is dripping in elements of the early 00’s pop-punk that Holka has specialized in covering, paying homage to, and ultimately establishing his own brand around, since his teen years. His vocal tone is forward and ever-so-slightly nasal, though he possesses a range far wider, and sometimes more distinct and emotionally durable, than many of the contemporary pop-punk acts. This allows for producer RJ Demarco, a clear student of the genre, to crack his knuckles and open the floodgates.

Though the lyrics of the tune, an adamant and vehement admittance of infatuation and divulgence of personal security, are written to be more conversational than poetic, the conviction with which they are sung is the main selling point: “I could reach the stars up in the sky/ But they wouldn’t compare to the glitter in your eyes/ All I wanted was to give myself to you/ Anything… so I can live again, so I can feel again.” This is especially prevalent in the bridge and subsequent final choruses, as akloh’s in-the-round writing creates a sense of theatricality, as if from a rock opera of his own.

This final chunk reflects the idea that these swirling thoughts MUST be delivered all at once… that he is not physically able to contain himself. As nearly every vocal line and instrument, even ones that arrive fashionably late in the five-and-a-half minute runtime, are layered beyond belief, and mixed and mastered to desperately avoid any single critical aspect of the arrangement from floating under the radar, ”ordinary” is endearingly massive. Massive, but not overwhelming, as akloh and Demarco ensure that each added sensation is fueled by scientifically aided emotion, not noise: “Every day I look back on… I wanna see you in my arms/ Remind me that I’m not alone/ And in the days ahead of us… I know that I have you to trust.” – Noah Wade

Alessia Cara has been seen as something of an adult-contemporary artist since her first days in the mainstream, as her breakout hits “Here” and “Scars To Your Beautiful” broke through to audiences far and away from the YA-demographic she was instinctively targeting. With much of her latest record, Love & Hyperbole, she intentionally leaned into the sonic structure of the AC format, though none executed as poignantly as “Fire.” Though certainly not her first ballad, nor her first attempt at her take on an Adele-style vocal crescendo, Cara, a tried-and-true contralto, pushes herself to the limit.

In the verses, Cara, coasting in her sweet mixed register, declares her evident infatuation for a lover, and questions why she hadn’t seen the signs earlier: “Pick me up and set me free/ Golden boy in dirty jeans/ Painted me in your light/ Wonder why I couldn’t see it.” Aa she nears the latter half of the song, she, along with her band, the latter responsible for an affecting jazz and blues-influenced arrangement, begins to swell with intensity, until she is sustaining, riffing, and distorting notes well within the realm of her vocal break: “I wanna take you places/ I wanna keep you safe and… I wanna be where you are/ Be where you are/ Be where you are/ And, ooooooooh, I’m on fire.” For an artist whose intellect, emotional capabilities, and musical composition skills have been beyond her years since the start, “Fire” is a career highlight. – Noah Wade

“Sweet” is, in my opinion, Alix Page’s best song so far, right after “Goose.” The lyrics are witty, snappy, and something to dance to. The chorus is catchy and perfect for summer parties and beyond. The guitar bits of the song are powerful but not overpowering. The line: “But I’m such a big fight If I didn’t wanna lose you, lose you” is such a relatable piece of storytelling and such a self-aware moment. The whole EP deserves a spotlight, but the song on its own is magic. – Nicolle Knapová

Singer/songwriter Amanda Bergman paints with a tenderness that feels both otherworldly and painfully human. Her first single of the year, “grasp” is haunting in the way only she can be – that slow, smoky ache that wraps itself around you like late–night air, warm and trembling, full of sorrow and seduction. It’s comfort defined, catharsis distilled, a soft flame in a dark room. The song arrives like sustenance – musical nourishment for a world coming undone. It’s dreamy, bruised and intimate, the sonic equivalent of pulling a heavy blanket up to your chin on a cold night. And beneath its simmering beauty lives something fiercer: A powerful take on the times we’re living through and a refusal to let despair hollow us out.

With a heart of fire and a voice like pure seductive smoke, Sweden’s Amanda Bergman has long been one of the quiet pillars of modern indie music – a songwriter who moves between worlds with disarming ease, grounding vast emotional terrain in melodies that feel intimate, elemental, and lived-in. The arrival of “grasp” cracks open the emotional universe of embraced for a second as we die, Bergman’s forthcoming third LP and the boldest, most expansive work of her career (out January 16, 2026 via The Satchi Six & Arketyp). Where her previous album explored grief, identity, and the quiet recalibrations of adulthood, this new record turns its gaze outward – toward destabilized systems, generational memory, ancestral threads, and the delicate acts of love that tether us to one another when the world tilts.

And it’s through “grasp” that her vision sharpens into something immediate, visceral, and undeniable – making it the perfect entry point for the record and an instantly memorable reintroduction. As heavy as it is, this song is also astonishingly gentle – a reminder that hope isn’t a blaze but a flicker, kept alive through connection, creativity, and the refusal to turn away from humanity. “Hope isn’t this constant flame,” she says. “It flickers a bit. Sometimes it’s just the act of creating something, or sharing a meal, or laughing at how absurd it all is. I think hope is in those small refusals to give up on being human.”

It’s this rare combination of vision, vulnerability, and visceral clarity that makes Amanda Bergman one of 2026’s essential artists to watch. There is no one else operating on quite the same frequency – no one who threads the personal and the political with such softness, or who can take the disorientation of the present moment and translate it into something so strangely consoling, so achingly beautiful. Her writing feels prophetic not because it predicts catastrophe, but because it refuses to look away from humanity’s quieter truths: Our grief, our devotion, our bewilderment, our stubborn hope. Bergman has always been a singular voice, but as she enters this new era, she feels not just influential, but necessary.

And that’s ultimately the gift of “grasp.” It makes room for confusion, grief, vertigo, and fear – but also for clarity, grounding, and the instinct to move forward anyway. Bergman hopes listeners feel “less alone in their confusion,” and to remember that “even if the world is messy right now, it may not be true forever.” For me, “grasp” holds all of that with remarkable grace. It’s smoke and soul, ache and ember – a song that steadies you even as it mirrors your trembling. In a world that feels like it’s spinning too fast, Amanda Bergman has given all of us something to hold on to. – Mitch Mosk

British-born, Berlin-based Annika Henderson, better known as Anika, came out with her third album, Abyss this year. Her single “Hearsay” features a prominent bass guitar and drumbeat that are constant and never stop, rarely straying from the same few notes or tones, like a fast-beating heart. This helps the chorus pop when the guitar goes off in shallow minor chords, riffing, slipping in and out of a painful distortions that sounds so good.

He said and she said and then we said.
And then he said and she said and then we said said.
And I’m tired of all this heresay.
And I’m tired of all this game playing.

And yesterday’s papers they line my bird cage.
And you’re telling me tales to get your own way.
And you’re making up stories to push your narrative.
And you’re making up tales to be provocative.

With Henderson’s almost conversational singing style traveling through minor and major chords, and paired with the eerie instrumentation, an epochal tone emerges. There is a desperation of release, and a need for reality. The song incorporates inspiration from ‘90s grunge which ushers in a coarseness and provides raw rock music that encourages a separation of all the hearsay, technology, and bombardment of countless narratives that consume us all. – Jonah Evans

Aranda is a band of two brothers from Oklahoma City who continue to push the boundaries of modern rock as we know it. Their 2025 headbanger, “You Don’t Wanna Know” is an avoidant’s anthem. Aranda sheds light on past trauma that reveals itself when we let our walls down. The lyrics are shockingly vulnerable and gritty as Aranda comes to terms with the peril of romance.

“You Don’t Wanna Know” combusts with passionate vocals, striking riffs of electric guitar, and bold percussion that drives the genre modern rock forward. This track demonstrates a fearless intimacy with listeners as Aranda doesn’t shy away from the darkness of themselves. “You Don’t Wanna Know” breathes life into the future of rock as 2025 comes to a close. – Grace Holtzclaw

There’s a quiet magic pulsing through Armlock’s “Strobe” – a kind of understated intensity that slowly envelops the senses, drawing you deep into the song’s soft, glistening glow. Hypnotic and hushed, raw and radiant, the Australian band’s minimalist track feels like a memory – fleeting and yet eternal, flickering in and out of view like headlights on a late-night drive… or the hazy warmth of someone you love laughing on the other end of the phone. Hundreds of listens in, this track continues to move and mystify me. It’s unvarnished, it’s aching, it’s immersive in the most gentle and genuine way. In its softness lies something truly beautiful… something that stirs the ears, the heart, and the soul.

Released back in May via Run for Cover Records, “Strobe” feels like a small evolution, subtle but intentional. Written while touring across Europe and the US, the song became a live-testing ground for new ideas: A chance for Armlock – comprised of Simon Lam and Hamish Mitchell – to refine what they do best while pushing into new sonic territory. The song’s climax – “That’s my friend on the phone / We’ve been laughing all day / That’s my dad out the front / Think we kinda look the same…” – is disarmingly personal and deeply moving, offered like a Polaroid from someone’s life. “I guess it’s like taking someone on a mini tour of my life,” Lam told me earlier this year. “Like driving around and pointing and saying ‘this is the shit that matters most to me.’ And none of it’s really grand or anything, but it’s all awesome.”

It’s not just the warmth or the softness, the ache or the glow; it’s the fact that this song feels lived-in. It feels like a familiar smile; it feels like a hug. It feels real. It feels like it means everything to Armlock – and in that vulnerability, in that gentle intensity, it ends up meaning everything to me, too. It’s everything all at once. – Mitch Mosk

Let’s go! BABYMETAL and Poppy are two of my favorite active metal artists. Each have had incredible, bleeding edge trajectories making inimitable music during the wild arcs of their respective careers. Even with the proliferation of kawaii metal, much of which I also love, BABYMETAL remains the most innovative, taking their initial concept of idol-pop smashed into metal and running amok. Have you ever wanted to hear an idol-pop influenced trap metal cypher? Me neither, but it’s electrifying all the same. Poppy’s career has taken her from a fun, above average electro-pop artist to a completely singular musical force bouncing between industrial metal to grunge to pop and back again, often within the same album.

“from me to u” is, then, a collab I never dared to wish for, but seemed preordained – and it delivers in spades. This is a no-frills metal beatdown that finds its flavor in the thrilling contrast between SU-METAL’s lead vocals and Poppy’s unclean passages. SU-METAL, and indeed her fellow metal disciples MOAMETAL and MOMOMETAL, are uncharacteristically dark here, their usually bright tones suffused with a simmering violence not heard on even their heaviest songs.

Poppy’s unclean vocals, by now refined to a bloody spearpoint, erupt from that simmer as she screams, “Stand up and make your move!” MOA and MOMOMETAL follow, all inertia, with a chant of “Let the fire carry on/let the power go from me to you!” Poppy occasionally drops down into harmonies with SU-METAL, cold fury dripping from their eerie harmonies. The track eventually key-changes into a brutal euphoria as rock-behemoth angel-demon Poppy screams “from me to you!” one last time. – Danny Vagnoni

“Higher,” the soul-stirring duet between Ben Fuller and Molly Kate Kestner from the Walk Through Fire album, soars with emotional resonance and spiritual yearning, weaving a powerful narrative of hope and transcendence. With harmonies that feel both intimate and celestial, Fuller and Kestner breathe life into lyrics that speak to the deep human desire to rise above the weight of life’s burdens. The track’s gentle ascent mirrors the soul’s search for something greater, faith, strength, purpose, and its beauty lies in both its vulnerability and its triumph. As a centerpiece of the album’s message of redemption and renewal, “Higher” not only uplifts but also invites the listener to believe in the possibility of healing from within and beyond. – Danielle Holian

There’s a moment just before dusk when the world exhales – when the wind stills, the trees hush, and everything seems suspended in golden light. Billie Marten’s “Feeling” lives in that moment. It’s a song of delicate grace and quiet catharsis, gently unfolding like a whisper in the breeze. One of the sweetest, softest songs I’ve heard all year, “Feeling” stopped me in my tracks the first time I heard it live – just Marten, her guitar, and a room full of hearts quietly breaking open.

The second single off Marten’s new album Dog Eared, “Feeling” is softly stunning – a dreamy, aching surrender that swells with warmth and wonder. Every breath, every lyric, every lullaby-like guitar strum feels deeply intentional and deeply felt. The chorus alone – “And you look so good / And you are so clean / I am on my way, hey, hey / I am barely breathing” – is enough to knock the wind out of you, even as it lifts you up.

Marten describes “Feeling” as a tapestry of memory and sensory impressions. “I’ve discovered that I have a really particular long-term memory: I have specific sensory recollections from when I was two onwards, that I can recall easily now,” she tells Atwood Magazine. “One of these is marking out roads in my grandmother’s patterned carpet, for my Dad’s old 1950/60s toy cars to drive on. I used to trace patterns in everything: fabric seats at the dentist, carpets, wallpaper and walls, raindrops on car windows. Everything had a pattern to be noticed.”

That sensitivity to detail – to movement, texture, light, and shadow – flows through this song’s every note. “Another strong memory is the feeling of big, warm hands when you’re a child and how comforting and safe that feels,” she continues. “The notion of age being so far away from you, but you know it’s a future inevitability, and that you’re on your way there. The inarticulateness of that ‘feeling’ you can’t describe yet, but you’re aware of a push in the world that you don’t yet understand.” It’s this intangible, tender pull that gives “Feeling” its shape and soul. That, and the spellbinding guitarwork of Núria Graham (another former Atwood artist-to-watch), which Marten says “sparks the album into life and really sets a benchmark in terms of rhythm.”

“Feeling” is more than just an album opener – it’s a gentle awakening, a shimmering prelude to whatever’s next. It’s a song to breathe with, to hum along to on hazy summer nights, to wrap yourself in when words won’t come. The musical equivalent of a warm breeze, it drifts through the air and lingers long after it’s gone. If this ends up on my list of the best songs of the year, I won’t be the least bit surprised – it’s that special, and with Dog Eared out in just a month’s time, Billie Marten is only just getting started. – Mitch Mosk

It cannot possibly be said enough – Billy Woods is one of the best storytellers in the history of hip hop. His ability to conjure up images as vivid as the most high-concept movies within the space of a couple of sentences has long been the core of his craft. Born Alone carries many of the key themes on GOLLIWOG, his latest album. It’s a song which reflects that life and death, for many people in this world, comes cheap and is a delicate balance which affects existence day-to-day. It’s backed by a contemplative beat of echoey piano by frequent collaborator Kenny Segal – One of the finest producers in the business.

What’s so stark about Born Alone – And indeed the entire GOLLIWOG album – is that Woods is able to draw from his own experience to tell a tale. He remembers, with sadness and regret, the murder of his cousin, and how his aunt found out about it by seeing it on the news. Born Alone is about how Woods, even now as a successful and celebrated rapper, thinks about his own mortality daily. The inevitability of death, the constant background hum of morbid curiosity, mixed with the need to survive and carry on as the world keeps turning, is a saddening subject to behold, but Woods is very much at home with such a heavy concept. Perhaps that’s what’s so perturbing about Born Alone – Death is such a normal part of life, it’s like brushing your teeth. – Adam Davidson

As a long time fan of Blondshell, I was eager to see how she would follow her audacious and unapologetic debut. When she released “T&A,” I knew I was in good hands. The letters stand for tits and ass, three vehicles Teitelbaum uses to dissect the complexity of sex and coping via her usual monotone charm and beguiling depravity. This is accompanied by a pervasive ‘90s alternative spirit and the ability for her lyrics to go right for the jugular. T&A makes for another excellent notch on the self-destructive, self-aware rocker’s bedpost. – Nasim Elyasi

If there’s one song that feels like SABLE, fABLE’s emotional core, it’s “From” – a quiet masterclass in empathy that leans into love not as spectacle, but as steady presence. A breathtaking collaboration off Bon Iver’s latest album, “From” elevates the band’s sound into new emotional terrain as Justin Vernon delivers a soul-stirring meditation on perspective, gratitude, and self-worth shaped through love. mk.gee’s signature textures blend seamlessly into Bon Iver’s sonic world, adding rhythmic nuance and atmospheric depth to a track that feels like a rich, warm exhale. “From” doesn’t just speak to love — it embodies it, in all its patience, presence, and quiet grace. In my opinion, it’s one of Bon Iver’s most timeless and tender offerings. – Mitch Mosk

“Losin’ My Mind,” Chandler Leighton’s latest dark-pop anthem, is a haunting, pulse-driven descent into emotional chaos, wrapped in velvety synths and raw vulnerability. With her signature blend of sultry vocals and lyrical candor, Leighton crafts a single that feels both intensely personal and eerily universal, an intimate confession echoing the disorientation of spiraling thoughts. As she embraces the shadowy corners of her psyche, Leighton continues to evolve sonically, fusing shimmering pop textures with an undercurrent of grit and melancholy. “Losin’ My Mind” is a chilling reminder of her ability to turn turmoil into art, reaffirming her place as a fearless voice in the dark-pop landscape. – Danielle Holian

At the dusty borderlines of desert soul and Midwest Country roads, a talented band featuring Zella Day, Jesse Woods, and Beau Bedford lies Chaparelle’s debut album, Western Pleasures. This playful album reveals a courageous, organically complex, and wild spirit with “Inside the Lines.” The song transports you to a warm desert oasis in the heart of Texas, where listeners can run wild with the freedom within their soul, featuring warm grooves, transposing fretwork, and romantic lyrical ballads expressed with beautiful harmony. Sink a taste of classical guitar riffs, sweet like “cherry pie,” ready to serve listeners throughout the album and song. The verses circulate to support blossoming beginnings, also affirming the setting of boundaries within personal dynamics. The delicate rhythm of the guitar poetically complements the soft falsetto and vibrato of lyrics that invite listeners into deep emotional conversations. Such conversations are not meant for the sidelines, as they stand as a daring and defiant testament to the times. – Ashley Littlefield

“The Subway” has lived in my headphones like a bruise you keep pressing on – tender, aching, impossible to ignore. It’s been on repeat all year, but hearing it live at Forest Hills Stadium during Chappell Roan’s pop-up shows in September sealed it as something truly special. The way her voice unfurls here is breathtaking: Soft but resolute, dramatic without tipping into excess, every line delivered with that singular mix of sincerity and charm that only she can pull off. She makes heartbreak feel cinematic, even mundane moments – a staircase, a scent, a passing stranger – swelling with meaning and dread.

What I love most is the churn of it all: The push and pull between longing and letting go, between she’s got a way and she got away. That wordplay is devastating in its simplicity, a hook that cuts deeper each time it circles back. ’Til you’re just another girl on the subway becomes both a wish and a quiet torment, a countdown you can feel ticking in your chest. There’s angst here, but also humor, self-awareness, and a disarming tenderness that keeps the song buoyant even as it aches. Gentle, dramatic, and unmistakably Chappell Roan through and through, “The Subway” is one of those songs that doesn’t just soundtrack a moment – it becomes the way you remember it. – Mitch Mosk

Chartreuse is a band from Birmingham, England. The 3rd single of their upcoming album, Bless You, Be Well (August 29th), “Fold” evokes reflection of relationships through sound and lyrics. It’s easy to tell that the band took their time as well as thought into the composition of this song and their upcoming album, recorded in Iceland with producer Sam Petts-Davies (The Smile). There is a sense of isolation in “Fold” while also incorporating a sonic gentelness in the contours of which you can hear in the first guitar melody. The melody feels muted, tempered, soft, and relaxing. Similarly, Hattie Wilson’s vocals are like elongated whispers, hotly simmering through the progressing lyrics and this gentle tension can be felt the combination of all the tones is what makes the song incredibly potent. The tension escalates with the lyrics, like in this verse here:

Give you what you need
I’ll fold myself in three
I could’ve said something
but it would have meant nothing.

It’s like an acknowledgement of how to care for a partner, this tenderness, while staring at the challenges. Chartreuse posted a story about this song on their Instagram on June 26th, saying, “It’s about the desperation to make everything okay when the other person is navigating emotions or a tough patch the feeling of being out of control and you can’t make everything better for them, trying to get it all back to normal as quickly as you can.” This longing sensation is incredibly present in “Fold,” including a sense of hope, being helpless, and feeling disconnected, all one. Feeling a loss of control can be terrifying and many times, and produces growth in acceptance. This song is and feels cinematic. The song is pensive, thoughtful, and electric. – Jonah Evans

Courting packed three songs into one. The soaring synths and saxophone of the intro welcome you to a dreamy atmosphere where yearning is commonplace. “Tell me where the story ends?” Sean Murphy-O’Neil begs. As quickly as the desire began, you’re flying alongside the butterflies in your stomach on a date you hope lasts forever. They never do last forever. Courting soars that high for exactly three minutes before flipping the entire song into an indie-country romp; we all learn our hero is actually not a yearner but instead a hilariously failed womanizer. There’s a conclusion to the story and like all bigshots… he goes out with a bang.

“Lust for Life” is catchy, funny, danceable, and most importantly, defies any expectation you might have about modern indie rock songwriting. It dares to imagine beyond the clever hook and the plucky guitar, and tells the exposition, climax, and resolution of a story in an instantly memorable fashion. – Andrew Lamson

So many people thrive with structure. There’s a certain comfort in knowing what’s around the corner, how a meal will taste, and your tasks for the day. Darkside do not care. Rather, they thrive and are at their best when you are forced to stand on your back foot, off-balance and wobbling. When you take your hands off the wheel, you can truly enjoy the journey Darkside have planned for you.

Their February album, Nothing, is characterized by that unpredictability. Surprises lurk around every corner and on every song. No song is as unpredictable as “S.N.C” – the lead single. Combining funk, a harpsicord, a choral intermission, and house-style drums, you’re lured deep into Darkside’s world. It’ll beacon you in, like a flickering light in the dark. When the door opens and Darkside show you their vision, you’ll discover comfort within the extremely wide and expansive harmonies. In 2025, tagging along for Darkside’s ride might be as fun as it gets. – Andrew Lamson

Electrifying doesn’t even begin to cover what “HIGHER!” does to a room – or to your body. This track has rewired something in me. Hearing it live, you don’t just listen; you absorb it. You breathe it in. It hits your chest like a jolt. It lifts you off the floor. It’s joy and ecstasy and heat and motion – all channeled through one of the most fearless artists working today. “HIGHER!” is Dijon at his most euphoric, a dizzy, delirious release that captures everything his sophomore album Baby stands for: Love as combustion, devotion as adrenaline, the “mania of domesticity” transfigured into a full-body exaltation. On the album, it’s a breakthrough; in the room, it’s a miracle. “Gotta say, gotta say… watching you blow up – ballooning!” he cries, and the world seems to expand right alongside him. The beat lurches forward in ecstatic bursts, the arrangement spirals upward, the whole thing heaves with breath and sweat and awe. It sounds like a heart mid-leap – like someone discovering, in real time, just how much higher love can take them.

“Just stay in my view, my love, ’cause you bring it all higher…” He sings it like a revelation, and the crowd shouts it back like gospel. If Absolutely was chaos and longing and rupture, then Baby is urgency and embodiment – intimacy in motion. Made at home with his closest collaborators, the album fuses cinematic R&B, domestic devotion, and that unmistakable Dijon electricity into something unguarded and alive. “HIGHER!” sits at the epicenter of that heatwave: A love-drunk carousel spinning so fast you lose your balance, yet somehow land softer than you expect. Dijon’s voice – trembling, raw, ecstatic – becomes an instrument of pure ascent, lifting everything around it.

And the physicality of it is breathtaking. The song moves like bodies colliding in a too-small kitchen; like laughter spilling into a cry; like desire overtaking whatever exhaustion came before it. It’s sweaty and bright and entirely unselfconscious – the sound of letting love move through you so fully it becomes its own weather system. Onstage, those impulses double; you can see the music in the way his band leans, shouts, dissolves, and reforms around him. It’s communion. It’s combustion. It’s magic.

What astonishes me most is how hopeful it feels. Amid the mania, the noise, the ecstatic blur, “HIGHER!” is a song that believes in love’s ability to heal – to lift, to restore, to resurrect. “Two times… let it move right through you… it’s healing me… this is a love… HIGHER…” That’s not metaphor; that’s lived experience erupting in real time.

The more I sit with Baby, the more “HIGHER!” emerges as one of Dijon’s defining triumphs – a song that crystallizes the fever dream, the devotion, the delirium, and the emotional gravity of this album. It’s ecstatic. It’s overwhelming. It’s alive in a way very few songs dare to be, and easily one of the year’s most unforgettable moments – a pure, unfiltered rush of feeling, a high-voltage jolt of life that reminds you just how high great music can take you. – Mitch Mosk

“Jealous Type” didn’t dent the charts as much as the lead singles to Doja Cat’s other albums have done, but it still deserves to be applauded for the many things it has going for it: its enjoyable disco-drenched beat, courtesy of Jack Antonoff and Y2K, as well as Doja’s signature playful blend of singing and emceeing. “I could be torn between two roads that I just can’t decide– which one is leading me to hell or paradise?” Ms. Cat sings in the chorus. She’s evidently got some heavy decision-making ahead of her– but meanwhile, the rest of us are free to kick back and party away to this standout from her excellent fifth album, Vie. – Josh Weiner

Love has never sounded quite as electrifying, as cinematic, or as jarring as it does in Dove Ellis’ world. What begins as a tender piano confession blooms into a feverish, bright, and jangling reverie, pulsing with urgency and ache. The Irish singer/songwriter twists and churns, letting his music spark in real time – shifting from hushed intimacy to something bold, brash, and beautifully unrestrained. “Love Is,” the latest look at his upcoming debut album Blizzard, captures Ellis at his most unguarded and impassioned, laying out love’s contradictions with breathtaking candor.

A highlight off his debut album Blizzard, “Love Is” finds Ellis at his most direct and immediate, pairing raw, unfiltered lyricism with a propulsive, radiant indie folk/rock sound. It’s the latest powerful look at the fast-rising artist, who has already drawn early praise from outlets like Stereogum, The FADER, Paste, and Atwood. Born in Galway and now based in Manchester, the 22-year-old singer/songwriter has quickly earned a reputation for the startling clarity, elasticity, and emotional volatility of his voice – a sound that’s drawn early comparisons to Jeff Buckley, Rufus Wainwright, and Thom Yorke. “Love Is” sees Ellis sharpening his lens while widening the scope of what his music can hold; he’s at his most unguarded and ambitious here. The song itself is a study in emotional escalation. Soft piano and Ellis’ tender vocal set the scene with surreal, striking imagery – “Fools are running in the square / You leapt right off the balcony” – before he drops the first shard of truth: “Love is not the antidote to all your problems.” What starts off feeling fragile and introspective quickly swells into something far more volatile. Guitars jangle and flare, the rhythm section kicks up dust, and his delivery grows increasingly feverish, as if he is willing the song – and himself – into some kind of clarity.

Part of what makes that escalation land so powerfully is Ellis’ voice itself – elegant one moment and near-fractured the next, a live wire that sharpens, softens, and shudders through the mix with a volatility that feels both instinctive and deeply intentional. Lyrically, “Love Is” unfolds like an emotionally charged laundry list, each line offering another facet of the same overwhelming force. Ellis alternates between declarations and negations, building a kind of call-and-response with himself. “Love is / The only matter you can call your own,” he sings, before turning to more intimate images like “The sweeping hair that is protecting your sleep tonight” and “The snow pooling around your shoes.” These tender snapshots are then undercut by clear-eyed refusals: “Love is not / Keeping it loose… Love is not / Mapped by quotations and it’s not what it seems.” Love is everything and not enough; sustaining and insufficient; miraculous and maddening, all at once.

What makes “Love Is” especially captivating is how off-book it feels. Ellis doesn’t seem interested in tidy arcs or familiar structures; instead, he lets the song lurch, blaze, and unravel according to its own emotional logic. World-building and songcraft feel instinctive rather than prescribed. The track careens between intimacy and spectacle, restraint and abandon, like a mind trying to make sense of something too big to hold. It is tender and feverish, jangling and bright, bold and a little brash – and that volatility is precisely the point. In that sense, “Love Is” feels like a defining piece of Blizzard’s world – a song that doesn’t just hint at the album’s emotional weather, but embodies the storm system itself: vivid, disorienting, intimate, and immense.

“Love Is” ultimately lands as both a reckoning and a release. It refuses to romanticize love as a cure-all, yet it never denies its power, its beauty, or its danger. In under four minutes, Ellis manages to capture the giddy rush, the looming risk, and the strange, stubborn hope that keeps us leaping anyway. As a standalong track, it is disarmingly strong; as a glimpse into Blizzard, it suggests an artist ready to twist the familiar language of love into something sharper, stranger, and endlessly compelling. Whether you love love or merely like it as a friend, “Love Is” will blow you away.

In a landscape overcrowded with cool detachment and emotional shorthand, Dove Ellis’ songwriting feels nothing short of refreshing – a fearless, full-bodied plunge into feeling that reminds you just how vivid and vulnerable indie folk can still be. If this is where he begins – already twisting emotional truth into something this vivid and alive – the road ahead feels nothing short of formidable. Ellis’ debut album may be called Blizzard, but the forecast is unmistakable: Something big is coming. Dove Ellis is undeniably an artist to watch – and “Love Is” makes it impossible to ignore just how much he has to offer. – Mitch Mosk

We all have that one artist we really want to gatekeep, and Eleni Drake is definitely mine. As she gears up for a brand new record, “A Wonder Day” arrived as the first of her new batch of singles. Transportative and airy, the track has brought me into a state of escapism and joy every time, guided by Drake’s buttery vocals and a gorgeous cello accompaniment. “I wanna wander this Earth with you, I wanna have a wonder day with you” are truly the makings of the softest, most tender, yet powerful love songs. – Rachel Leong

“You Can’t Always Get What You Want” opens with a buzzing, reminiscent of the beeping of a hospital monitor or dial-up internet. The tightness of the tabla, the barely-there soprano thirds on the piano, and the feather-light lyrics make for a futuristic feat of impressionism.De Casier prays softly, letting mortality dance on the tips of her fingers. She sings, “I hope you understand that this is just a body, and time will take its toll on me.” – Nasim Elyasi

Etta Marcus never disappoints when it comes to breaking your heart the best way possible. A song dedicated to the late Jeff Buckley was bound to make you teary-eyed. Every line of this song hits hard and makes you want to listen to his entire discography and mourn alongside her. I hope this means more music from this London-based queen of melodramatic anthems is coming in 2025. – Nicolle Knapová

Fabrizio Cammarata’s “Asanta” instantly pulls you into a deeply personal journey. Written in total solitude during a walk through the hills of his ancestral homeland, the song began as a raw voice memo, sparked by a melody that had followed him for years. There’s something powerful about how it unfolds: starting in Sicilian, then moving into English, as if different parts of his identity are stepping forward.

Blending organic textures with modern touches, “Asanta” feels like a spiritual offering, rooted in history, yet completely alive in the present. It opens with an almost operatic vocal chant that sends chills down your spine, set against a backdrop of eerie electronic textures. As the song unfolds, it shifts into sweeping strings and more traditional instrumentation, creating something that’s both cinematic and deeply unconventional. Inspired by a vision of his mother watching a saint’s procession in 1950s Sicily, the track touches on themes of memory, lineage, and the stories we carry without even realizing. It’s a haunting beginning to his upcoming concept album Insularities, a release which promises to be a soul-searching and sonically rich album. – Joe Beer

My first exposure to First Day Back was a video that a friend shared, and I truly believe I saw them in their natural habitat—this band is an excellent unit. I saw a quintet of genuinely talented and effortlessly cool musicians in a dingy room playing their heart out, bringing together all the best of 90s second-wave emo and taking it to a new level in 2025 (they’re even named after a Braid song). One look at that video, and I knew that they had what so many bands chase after. And that sound is perfectly captured on their debut album Forward, particularly with the track “Us”. Traces of melancholic guitar lines and wistful harmonica parts explode into heavy segments of distorted bliss, complete with thunderous drums and propulsive basslines, while the vocals howl an intensely personal tale over the noise. There’s a rawness to it that can’t truly be duplicated. In other words, it feels like classic emo distilled to its greatest elements, a pure display of this band’s vivacity captured on the record. And the best part about “Us”, as well as the rest of the album? The live recording that I saw is nigh identical, with the quintet keeping the energy and the emotions intact no matter where it’s released. That’s a hallmark of a truly cohesive band right there, and “Us” is irrefutable proof of that. – David Diame

After having witnessed their well-earned rise to fame after frontman Cameron Winter’s solo project Heavy Metal (2024) and their newest release Getting Killed (2025), one who frequents the music writing world will be intimately familiar with Geese at the moment. But, some things are so good that they bear repeating. Geese is just as good as people have been saying, and nowhere is that more evident than with “Taxes” off of Getting Killed. It is refreshing to hear a rock band do something so unique and individual with song structure, splitting it between a polyrhythmic percussive intro blanketed with gorgeous vocals, and then dropping into the most blue-sky burst of chiming guitars and bright melody that one could’ve heard this year. It’s complete with the singular sound of Winter’s signature, timbrally uncomparable voice, as he howls about his steadfast refusal to contribute to a society like this. His words are impressionistic and so free-form, and yet there is an emotionally resonant core behind every single one. “Taxes” is so emblematic of what makes Getting Killed a record unlike so many, with any and all nods to what came before being mixed in such a way that only Winter, Max Bessin, Dominic DiGesu, and Emily Green could create. It’s something electric, something special, and something wholly theirs. – David Diame

“Your eyes are like a curtain and the sun goes through it” is the line that throws us into the scene, reading an expression, that becomes reading into a connection, which becomes a cleverly constructed tune that I keep coming back to. – Hannah Burns

Lather up in sunscreen because sunny, Los Angeles-based sisters HAIM turned up the heat this summer with their track “All over me” for their fourth studio album, I quit. The harmony is sultry, seductive, and infatuating as it grasps the thrill of deep diving without assigning labels in relationships. The composition opens with an even groove of drums, followed by clean acoustic power chords that establish a natural cadence, creating a steady, sun-soaked listening experience perfect for sipping a beverage in the sunshine. Switching sails, the lead guitar hooks the listener like a fish on a line, much like how fresh relationships can reel us in a single moment due to “a wild heart.” Anyone looking to catch and release their old ways of unrequited love and affection can find this track a perfect rewind to enjoy, turning up the heat of the season. – Ashley Littlefield

“If you know me like you say you do, you’d be humming along, you’d be singing the tunes.” It’s a deceptively simple opening – conversational, almost offhand – but it cuts straight to the heart of Hudson Freeman’s latest, gut-wrenching song. Raw and dusty, achingly impassioned and quietly tender, “If You Know Me” is an alt-folk reverie that’s had me utterly hooked from the first listen. Freeman’s voice is worn, soul-stirring, and unguarded, carrying a heavy weight – the kind that sends a shiver down your spine not because it’s loud, but because it’s true.

This is dusty alt-folk at its finest: Charming and churning, heavy and heartfelt, music that sweats and sways and stirs with emotional urgency. Freeman writes with an openness that feels both bold and fragile, letting feeling spill out without ever tipping into melodrama. Released alongside a soul-stirring cover of The Rolling Stones’ “Wild Horses,” “If You Know Me” doesn’t posture or perform its sincerity – it simply is, and that authenticity is what makes it land so deeply. At its core, “If You Know Me” is a plea for good faith – for conversation that happens face to face, not filtered through screens and suspicion. Freeman has called it “a pre-political song,” explaining that he’s “trying to make the case that we have to get offline and admit our fallibility to one another in order to have good faith discourse.” The song’s power lies in its emotional plainness. It’s not flashy or ironic. It’s a song about wanting the people in your life to really see you, to cut you off when you’re wrong, to set you straight when you drift – and about how lonely it can feel when that connection slips just out of reach.

If you know me like you say you do
You’d be humming along
You’d be singing the tunes
If you know me like you say you do
You’d just tell me I’m wrong
You’d just tell me the truth

Based in Brooklyn, Hudson Freeman is a folk artist – and one who deserves a spot on all music lovers’ radars. For the past decade, he has been hard at work quietly shaping a sound that sits at the crossroads of folk intimacy and alt-rock unease. “If You Know Me” captures both the emotional and philosophical stakes of his work while reaching a wider audience than ever before. Rather than chasing momentum, Freeman has earned it the slow way, by trusting his instincts, resisting shortcuts, and letting the work speak for itself. All signs point toward an artist entering his next chapter with intention, confidence, and something meaningful to say. – Mitch Mosk

JADE’s “FUFN” is a glittering storm of emotion and defiance, a sleek pop missile wrapped in heartbreak and honesty, soaring from the powerhouse heart of her solo debut, That’s Showbiz Baby. With LOSTBOY’s pristine production shimmering beneath her vocals, JADE channels exasperation and yearning into something magnetic, a raw yet polished anthem that pleads for space without ever losing its bite. It’s the sound of a woman reclaiming her voice, balancing vulnerability with fire, proving once again that she’s not just stepping out from Little Mix’s shadow: she’s blazing her own thrilling path. – Danielle Holian

Jadu Heart is my exact brand of delightfully-weird, slightly out of left field electro-pop. “U,” released on the duo’s album POST HEAVEN released in April, is one of my favorite songs. The glitching, shimmering atmospheric textures and layering is superb; it’s like getting lost in a private, very humid digital world, par for the course in a Jadu Heart song. Diva’s husky, floating vocals add to the hazy undercurrent of “U,” which skews a little more pop than Jadu Heart’s indietronica standards, but perhaps that catchiness is really the point. The earworm quality underscores the subject matter of slowly losing a fight to an obsession that you didn’t really want to stop having, anyway. – Kendall Graham

It’s a miracle music can sound like this. Screeching noisy synths, banging abrasive kicks, thudding drums, Danny Brown’s voice – all polarizing on their own. Somehow, under Jane’s direction, our calvary of pieces got assembled into one of the best songs of the year. Danny Brown’s a self-titled hyperpop lover, but the beat on “Psychoboost” is the wildest thing he’s been on since Rustie’s sensational 2013 release “Attak.” Jane’s production will feel like a computer malfunctioning on your first listen, but on your 10th you’ll realize every single note is so precisely located you can’t help but be entranced. When you eventually fall in love with this sound, Jane reminds us: “Don’t be too greedy or you might get hurt.” Embrace it, rejoice it, and celebrate it while we have it. The 22-year-old superstar is just getting started, and her collab with the 44-year-old veteran proves this sound is for everyone. – Andrew Lamson

Joy Crookes returned this year with her highly anticipated new record, Juniper, a collection of artfully political and witty tracks – sprawled across Crookes’ distinctive style. “Carmen” stands out for its fever dream visual world and specific lyrcism. Sarcastically reflecting on western beauty standards, Crookes says a lot with her seemingly simple lyrical trajectory: “When do I get to be Carmen?” ends with “Why am I working double just for half of what you got / I want to be wanted like Carmen,” a wonderful reflection on race, gender, and double standards without losing its wit. – Rachel Leong

It’s the guitar that got me first – gentle, warm, wiry, and unmistakably touched by mk.gee’s magic hands. That’s all it took for “DAISIES” to pull me in. Justin Bieber’s voice arrives seconds later – hot on the mic, raw and unguarded – and suddenly it’s like we’re sitting in a small room together, just him and me (with mk.gee in the doorway), heart wide open and nerves exposed. I’ve never called myself a Belieber, but this song might be the one that changes that.

“DAISIES,” the second track off Bieber’s surprise new album SWAG, pulses with that signature Bieber vulnerability – an unfiltered passion that feels both diaristic and deeply physical. He’s “countin’ the days, how many days ’til I can see you again?” over a dreamy, downtempo arrangement built on intimacy and ache, desire and restraint. And in the background, you can practically see mk.gee (aka Michael Todd Gordon) in the shadows, guitar in hand, casting that atmospheric haze only he can conjure.

The lyrics walk a tightrope of hope and heartbreak, with Bieber throwing petals and blowing kisses into a void that might love him back – or might not. “If it ain’t right, babe, you know I’ll respect it / But if you need time, just take your time / Honey, I get it, I get it, I get it.” That balance of longing and emotional maturity is what gives “DAISIES” its staying power: It’s not just yearning, it’s earned growth. For an album centered around fatherhood, love, and self-reflection, this track feels like a quiet thesis statement. “DAISIES” is tender, textured, and easy to fall into – just like the kind of love it describes. – Mitch Mosk

I discovered Karol G about four years ago via her songs “Caramelo (Remix)” and “Tusa,” and Iv’e continued to actively listen to and enjoy her music, most of all through the substantial stash of hits that 2023’s Mañana Será Bonito produced. I have yet to check out its recently-released follow-up, Tropicoqueta, in full just yet, but I’ve definitely enjoyed its lead single, “Si Antes Te Hubiera Conocido,” which has been making rounds around Spanish-language radio a solid amount in recent months. The lyrics reflect some of the conflicting “what if?” thoughts that have crossed Karol G’s mind lately regarding whether she’d met her lover sooner (“surely, we’d have been dancing together, and not as friends”). Although these hypothetical scenarios might be troubling Señorita G’s mind a lot, the Meringue-influenced, conga drum-filled beat is as breezy and lighthearted as it gets. The yin and yang there works marvelously, and it’s fair to say that the Colombian star has managed to extend her impressive string of Spanish-language hits with “Si Antes Te Hubiera Conocido.” – Josh Weiner

Kiki Hollli’s wistful atmospheric track “Wish” is a true joy to listen to. When I hear the melodic, mesmerizing piece I’m brought back to female singers of the early 2000s like Hoku and Hilary Duff. The warm vocals and upbeat backdrop truly bring the song to life. When I first heard Hoku’s song “Perfect Day” in the Legally Blonde movie, I instantly was overcome by a burst of bright positivity. I get that same sensation with Holli’s new musical jewel. – Chloe Robinson

“Abracadabra” was one of Lady Gaga’s strongest singles in recent years, and I suspect it’ll be one of the songs for which 2025 is best remembered down the road. It’s a lively chunk of energetic electropop of the sort Gaga has delivered so often across the past generation, with the results as magnificent and dancefloor-calling as ever. Plus, it helps that the vocal remolding of its title wound up turning into the “puh-puh-puh-poker-face” of its day. I’ll be rooting for this one as it competes for both Record and Song of the Year at the Grammy Awards, among other prizes. – Josh Weiner

On “Winter, A Wilted Flower,” Lecx Stacy documents the aftermath of emotional collapse. Written and recorded alone in his parents’ home while juggling long shifts at a behavioral health facility, the song carries the weight of exhaustion, heartbreak, and reflection. The track emits an intimate and unpolished vibe, from the bare production to the subtle sounds of daily life bleeding into the recording. Stacy sings about endings and impermanence capturing the moment when waiting turns into acceptance. The lyric “whispers / they tell me that you’re not the one… I waited for you, now you’re gone” lands as a hard truth spoken aloud for the first time.

What sets “Winter, A Wilted Flower” apart among this year’s releases is how naturally it fits within Stacy’s broader world while still standing on its own. His personal history, shaped by grief, family, and self-taught creation, lingers beneath the surface, giving the song a depth that feels real and relatable. Sonically, the track blends emo-folk with ambient textures, and subtle noise, drawing from Americana traditions. The melancholic song welcomes sadness and in doing so, Lecx Stacy offers a rare kind of honesty, one that feels sincere rather than performative. – Joe Beer

The first time I heard Léna Bartels was on the compilation, True Names: A Benefit for Trans Youth. The song is called “In My Place (demo).” Such dark tones, raw and sticky, straight-forward drums. It’s nice to hear a continuation, if not escalation of this mood in her new single, “Amber,” as the dark, melancholic tones are there again. The crunchy, lofi guitar is so surprising as the chords are muted and so subtle during the verse with sneaky angry stabs that pop up here and there. The accompanying and opposite guitar spends its time wailing dissonant, desperate sounds, crying for attention. Bartels stays in the center with a rounded voice that melts around the instruments. “Amber” has this epic sensation, pushing and pulling from a subtle trepidation to a grandiose feeling in the sound and the lyrics:

Take care of what I find
I like what I see
Could give you what you need

You know I keep the light on the quilt
And the door all but sealed

The song is haunting and cacophonous, like an old stone church with large stained glass windows and it embodies this hollow but large, waning, sensation and it’s very good. – Jonah Evans

Lily Allen broke the internet with her record West End Girl, which salaciously detailed her high-profile divorce. “Pussy Palace” takes the listener to the scene of the crime: discovering her ex-husband’s apartment is a sex dungeon. Here, Allen opts for a simpler production, allowing the disastrously witty lyrics to shine: “Duane Reed bag with the handle tied, sex toys, condoms, lube inside.” The chockablock jounce and breathy falsetto pack a lethal punch and solidify the magnetic chorus. – Nasim Elyasi

Lip Critic do not care about your preconceived notions of song structure or instrumentation. “Second Life” is one of the most accessible entries in their discography, and it contains more breaks and vocal changes than one should try to count. Blending hardcore with experimental/industrial music is an extremely exciting notion, and seeing Lip Critic truly embrace melodies over truly ear busting bass continues to show their promise.There’s a formula in Lip Critics music that hasn’t yet been tapped, but there is a combination of free form aggression over unstructured synths and roaring bass notes for a masterpiece. “Second Life” is proof of concept, and is one of the coolest songs of the year. – Andrew Lamson

A

“ADULT GIRL,” a song that feels like the emotional core of MARINA’s sixth studio album Princess Of Power and one of the most affecting tracks of the year. It’s a ballad that digs deep, unpacking childhood trauma and the painful weight of growing up too fast, all while balancing softness with striking poetic strength. MARINA’s vocals tremble with honesty, floating over sparse piano and lyrics that feel both intimate and universal, creating a moment that’s haunting, raw, and beautifully human. In a record full of sharp songwriting and bold ideas, “ADULT GIRL” is the one that lingers; quiet, heavy, and unforgettable. – Danielle Holian

On Matt Berninger’s second solo record, the famously introspective singer and lyricist — the acclaimed frontman of The National a large majority of the time — takes aim at topics familiar and yet uncertain. Berninger’s mind roves and roams, pondering the past, as well as troubles and flames current and former, none more pressing or urgent than the soaring yet spiky “Bonnnet of Pins.” The lead single from his acclaimed second solo effort manages to expertly channel Berninger’s quiet unease in a way that’s entirely his own — if his first solo record was a statement, this resounding follow-up shows that Berninger is never content to rest on his laurels. – Beau Hayhoe

Medium Build has always had a way of always taking my breath away, and “Last Time” is no exception. Released in August, it’s a rich and soulful, smoldering reverie full of glistening, golden melodies, achingly tender lyrics, and pure heat. Nick Carpenter has always blurred lines between raw and refined, confessional and cathartic, but here he unveils a new side of his artistry – sensual and suave, seductive and sultry, yet still undeniably sweet. His music simmers with slow-burning passion, every beat pulsing like a heartbeat you can’t ignore.

Carpenter himself has framed the song as an exploration of memory, nostalgia, and the strange clarity of knowing when something may be ending: “This song is about leaving a moment and knowing it very well might be the last time you talk to, kiss, or hold a person who was a giant part of your life,” he told me earlier this year. “It’s the odd sobriety you feel when you leave something behind. It’s the yin and yang of need and repulsion. When will I play my last show or eat my last banana? Who knows?” His candid reflections on life’s fleeting nature and the unavoidable truth of “last times” breathe both a fresh warmth and weight into the song’s chorus – an emotionally charged climax where he proclaims, “It might be the last time that we kissed. You always take for granted what you have until it’s missed,” his singing a hearty, raw, and ragged cry – unrestrained, vulnerable, and unshakably human. Those words hit with devastating clarity as his voice trembles with longing and vulnerability, a bittersweet recognition of how we rarely realize the value of a moment until it’s already gone:

But it might be the last time
that we kissed
You always take for granted
what you have until it’s missed
Don’t you take for granted
what you have until it’s missed

Life will have as many beginnings as it will endings: It’s a heavy truth to hold, but “Last Time” makes that inevitable weight – that inescapable ache – feel luminous and everlasting. Carpenter’s voice rises like smoke, hushed and heated, carrying lines that sear straight through the soul: “It might be the last time that we kiss / you always take for granted what you have until it’s missed,” he sings in the track’s brutally heartrending, breathtakingly beautiful chorus. Blending R&B smoothness with indie grit, he’s crafted a song that glows from the inside out, both intimate and explosive, intoxicating and immersive. This is Medium Build at his most magnetic – and if it really were the last time, he couldn’t have left us with anything more stunning. – Mitch Mosk

In a truly unfortunate series of events, the stomp, clap, hey! movement rallied atop this year’s Hot 100. Thankfully, Italy’s most fashionable metal export spun off a song of the summer that was far from ordinary. Messa came close to breaking through the underground before, but the band’s latest and greatest studio offering has converted masses of indieheads. While it still brings plenty of doom and gloom, “Fire on the Roof” summoned the perfect storm for a poolside barbecue.

Even with a decade now under their leather belts, Messa have yet to experience a lineup change. Such harmony is remarkable regardless of genre, but for metal, it’s a goddamn miracle, especially when a band claims this many outside influences. Their signature scent of Scarlet Doom carries notes of blues, classic rock and post-punk, but The Spin turned their internal clock back to the time when ’80’s goths ruled the airwaves. Dark waves of synth simmered beneath flickering reverb before the boom of a bass line sent “Fire on the Roof” up in smoke. Like moths to a flame, Sara Bianchin was hopelessly tempted by fatal attraction (Should I feed my heart / with thorns again?), though she walked that fine line with the grace of a trapeze artist. Over headbanging cymbals and a guitar solo that deserves Jimmy Page’s blessing, her falsetto climbed like a stairway between heaven and hell. – Will Yarbrough

Mon Rovîa has always sung from the fire and the fault line, but “Heavy Foot” hits with a different kind of force – a protest song that feels warm, inviting, inspiring, and cathartic even as it stares down the fractures of a country in crisis. The Liberia-born, Tennessee-based singer/songwriter, one of Atwood’s 2025 Artists to Watch and now a three-time Editor’s Pick, channels both rage and tenderness into a track that urges listeners not just to witness the world’s wounds, but to move toward healing together. It’s heavy but human, political but rooted in hope – the rare protest anthem that lifts as much as it warns.

“Heavy Foot” also marks a defining early chapter of Mon Rovîa’s forthcoming debut album Bloodline, a project shaped by resilience, memory, and the ongoing work of confronting the world as it is (out January 9, 2026 via Nettwerk). Built on a steady, pulsing rhythm and his rich, resonant vocals, “Heavy Foot” unfurls like a march through the present moment. It is a portrait of everyday injustice painted in sharp, evocative detail: “Do you hear the sound of the bell… times ain’t the same in the neighborhood… guns keep flying off the shelf,” he sings, his voice steady even as the lyrics crack open fear, grief, and generational pain. The weight of the song is undeniable, but it never buckles under its own intensity. Instead, it holds space – offering solidarity, warmth, and connection in the face of systems that seek to grind people down. – Mitch Mosk

Mulasaki Ima is the algo discovery at its best and rarest. The Japanese Mulasaki possesses an internet-forged artistry dripping with Y2K ethos from film grain to wild saturated color palettes, and seems to handle everything from music to her video production herself. Her music, in the delightfully idiosyncratic way that J-music often does, draws from pop, soul, hyperpop, and more, with an intense longing nostalgia noticeable throughout.

“That Classmate” evokes the confusing highs and lows of adolescent love, not just through lyricism, but through the song’s structure itself. The track starts with a light guitar riff that wouldn’t be out of place in a 2009 jangle pop tune as Mulasaki sings, “I’m crazy about that secretly hot classmate/Silently stirring, my heart’s burning red.” “That Classmate” doesn’t hold back for long though as, like the highs of young love, the track soars into a pumping chorus filled with disco beats, distortion guitar, and Mulasaki’s cathartic wail of, “Secretly our relationship is getting deeper/Life falling apart, turning red to the bone/So silly.”

Mulasaki’s vocal timbre is surprisingly husky. She disguises this well in the first verse, but the chorus reveals a deep vocal texture that sounds electrifying with the accompanying crescendo. Like the forbidden fruit she references, “That Classmate” gains more and more color as it matures, with a desperate, aching bridge and cascading piano buildups, before she ends the song with a smile at her crush and a simple, “so silly.” – Danny Vagnoni

“Sit back baby, let it go.” It’s the kind of refrain that lands like a hand on your shoulder, soft but steady, asking you to loosen your grip on everything you are carrying. In néomí’s hands, those words become both comfort and challenge, a whispered rallying cry to stop running from the hard feelings and let them move through you instead. Wrapped in warm, fuzzy guitars and a hazy, slow-building glow, “Sit Back Baby” holds uncertainty, grief, and self-doubt up to the light without flinching, then gently invites them to rest. It is gentle and fierce, intimate and expansive, a smoldering folk-pop exhale that feels less like escape and more like a moment of hard-won peace.

The emotional pulse of her recently released EP Another Year Will Pass (out October 31 via Nettwerk), “Sit Back Baby” distills the heart of néomí’s current artistic moment: Clarity through softness, bravery through vulnerability, and a renewed commitment to making space for what she feels rather than fighting it. Her latest record was shaped during a period of profound personal change, a time when the Surinamese–Dutch singer/songwriter (and former Atwood Editor’s Pick) found herself rethinking her pace, her perspective, and even her relationship to her own mind. Themes of time, surrender, and self-realignment run throughout the EP, and “Sit Back Baby” becomes the refined, immediate expression of that shift. Where other songs step back to examine years of memory, this one lives in the tiny, crucial moment where a person chooses to release instead of resist. The guitars hum with warm, sweaty overdrive, glowing like a late-summer horizon, while néomí’s voice stays featherlight and unforced, creating a beautiful contrast between heat and hush. Her melodic phrasing feels almost conversational, circling back through the refrain until it becomes less a lyric and more a mantra. Lines like “It can be hard to be honest… it can be hard to do better” and “What means love when you can’t put your heart on the line” flicker with quiet devastation, yet the song never sinks under their weight. Instead, it glows brighter, lifting its heaviness with patience and grace.

“Sit Back Baby” is a spellbinding triumph, a song that aches beautifully without ever collapsing under its own weight. It breathes, it burns, and it invites. In its warmth and weariness, its clarity and blur, it offers a moment of relief without promising resolution, which is precisely what makes it so powerful. néomí has crafted something that feels both deeply personal and universally resonant: A gentle prompt to stop fighting the tide for just a moment and let yourself drift. If the rest of Another Year Will Pass is about time widening and stretching, “Sit Back Baby” is the soul-stirring heartbeat at its center. It reminds us that release is a form of strength, surrender can be a form of courage, and that even in the messiest seasons, a little bit of letting go can feel like peace. – Mitch Mosk

Nicotine Dolls kicked off 2025 with one of their more evocative tracks – “Next To Me” from their album an Attempt at Romantic. While the album is full of unforgettable moments, this song stands out for its subtle departure from the band’s usual pop-rock sound, leaning into a sultry country vibe. At first impression, it comes across as bold and provocative, but a closer listen reveals layers of tenderness and reassurance beneath the surface. From the opening lines – “You don’t need to put on a thing / liner and lipstick on the glass of your drink / all of your tricks when you’re talkin’ bullshit / it’s nothing next to you next to me” – the song balances calling someone out with letting them know they’re safe to be fully themselves. That sense of trust and intimacy is what gives the track its real appeal, making it seductive in a way that unfolds like a scene you can’t stop watching. – Aileen Goos

My cousin randomly played me the music video for this song just a few months ago, and I was so entranced by it, and by the music, that I stuck it into all my playlists. It’s labeled as a “short film” on YouTube, and I have to agree based on the effort put in by the team, and the ending result. The artist formerly known as NLE Choppa has emerged into a new chapter of his career. I was only familiar with his (retired?) name but hadn’t listened to his previous music, but “KO” has made me a fan. The production itself has an almost pop slant to it, and his delivery is relentless, definitely befitting of the song’s name. The flow switches, the Michael Jackson tributes in the video (and the generally great time it looks like NLE is having), the faint, jazzy horn you have to listen a little hard to hear but just elevates the song; it’s brilliant. This song may or may not be a diss track meant for fellow rapper Blueface; it honestly doesn’t matter to me who he’s aiming at. This is one of the things that’s so fun about rap: hearing someone completely, deftly decimate someone else in the most poetic of ways. As “The Great” puts it in a quick refrain starting from the song’s middle: “Man. Down.” – Kendall Graham

I feel like a lot of music this year has centered around biting back at systems of oppression and marginalization that seek to keep us complacent so that more havoc can be wreaked while we’re too fatigued to fight back against it. To that tone, Nova Twins released one of my favorite songs this year that I believe address those themes. And all of this besides the fact that it’s a banger of a rock/alt-metal song. Its central melody is an earworm in the best way; the cadence of the melody feels like a quick but violent rollercoaster, which doubles, and then triples, down as the song progresses. The opening refrain of the song (“There’s something in the water, open up the borders / There’s something in the water, feel it getting closer”) is foreboding in the best way, and from that point on, you know this song is going to ripNova Twins are exciting because they are so completely themselves. You know that feeling you get when you experience music from certain artists and you can’t pin down exactly why you enjoy them so much? That’s singularity. That’s uniqueness, and to me, Nova Twins have that in spades. They put out their newest album, “Parasites & Butterflies,” towards the end of this summer and I highly recommend checking it out if you A) are a fan of rock or metal, B) are a fan of boundary- and genre-pushing music and/or C) have a pulse. – Kendall Graham

OMAM did it again. They created a cinematic yet intimate track that touched my soul the minute I heard Ragnar sing. This could be the beginning of a new era. It does take a few listens to truly get lost in the sound but once you do, you will never think about the song the same way. I have a good feeling about this song and about their comeback with hopefully a new album in either late 2025 or early 2026. It´s truly been a long time coming. – Nicolle Knapová

I’ve been a huge Olie Beckett ever since I had the pleasure of interviewing him for Atwood in 2024. Since then, Beckett has matured as an artist by creating vivid narratives that his effortless vocals bring to life. His 2025 release, “Hotels,” bears new levels of depth and experimentation. Beckett dives into a lush atmosphere of ruminative beats and cascading harmonies that transport the listener to a sweet escape.

“Hotels” is a huge step forward for Beckett. He stays true to his pop roots while expanding with influences of R&B. The result is warm and inviting sonics woven together in a tapestry of charisma. At just fifteen years old, Beckett knows exactly who he is and he’s ready to tell the world. – Grace Holtzclaw

As Dean’s self-proclaimed “favourite” on her latest record, “A Couple Minutes” is a slow ballad to sit with, stir with, and meditate on. Beginning with fuzzy orchestral arrangements, Dean invokes classic soul and R&B sensibilities on this end-of-record ballad. Dean’s great hits sit right within falling in love and the haze of it all. On this track, she turns to speak to the fleeting moments within love itself – reflecting on the blissful moments in a love just past. – Rachel Leong

Olivia Dean’s highly anticipated sophomore album, The Art of Loving, came off the back of a whirlwind year for the singer. To me, “Nice to Each Other” solidifies not just the project, but the summer of 2025 in song. Dean’s smooth vocals glide over rhythmic percussions and swooshing synths, leading with simple yet lasting lyricism – landing on the iconic line, “And wait for you to call it off / Cause I don’t want a boyfriend.” – Rachel Leong

“Ends Meet” is for me the highlight of Panda Bear’s 2025 return, Sinister Grift. It is a song of exactly the effulgent, resplendent, burgeoning electronic psychedelia that has trademarked his solo catalogue, spilling over from the ever-enigmatic repertoire of Animal Collective. It is a chorus that blossoms with life, pads cocooning the section in the warmth of a descending chord progression. As is common with Panda Bear’s music, a song that sound like part of a soundtrack for days at water parks in peak summers, light refracting off of water in ribbons, carries a less optimistic message, that message being that bad things will come to us, and when they do, we may have no choice but to face them. Perhaps my favourite thing about this track is that on its credits is listed Dave Portner, also known as Avey Tare, long-time friend and Animal Collective collaborator. His contribution to the track is listed simply as: ‘noise.’ – Frederick Bloy

Rocking, immediate, and energetic, Passing Thoughts’s “Everything I Could Have Been” is an excellent first impression from this New York City indie rock band. In less than three minutes, Passing Thoughts showcases the very best parts of their sound, doing the classic lineup of two guitars/bass/drums/vocals so well that one would think that there’s no need for anything else. In a musical ecosystem filled with tons of music, it is great to hear a song that sounds ready to flood your ears right from the get-go. “Everything I Could Have Been” feels like a mission statement for the band at-large, as the song’s lyrics detail the insecurities of youth and the innate desire to pursue unrealistic dreams–acknowledging the careers that exist out there that are much more stable than a rock band. There’s an intense amount of passion that must come with being in a rock band, and with their debut single, Passing Thoughts have already proven that they’re in it for the love of the game above anything else. – David Diame

One of my favourite discoveries from this year, Atlanta band Penelope Road bring a delicious fusion of funk, blues and soul to every performance. Their magnetism is instantly distinguishable – from 90 second covers to full-length EPs. “Out Tonight” fuses the best of vocalists Max Moore and Charles Eastman’s undeniable synergy, heightened by bluesy-rock guitar solos and jazz-leaning arrangements (by Koan Roy-Meighoo on guitar, James Kopp on bass and Anthony Smith on the drums). – Rachel Leong

Petey USA’s “Model Train Town” is an explosive, cathartic fever dream of a song. Released in January, the lead single off the singer/songwriter’s latest album The Yips (also one of Atwood’s best of 2025) is a masterclass in raw, visceral emotional release: As catchy as it is cathartic, this song blends feral energy with raw introspection and just the right amount of existential dread.

I saw this town, quiet like a model train town
It was picturesque and beautiful
And I couldn’t wait to show you

When we came around you didn’t feel the same
You said I don’t really understand this place
I felt embarrassed that I ever liked the town
I stomped my feet into the ground

Produced by Chris Walla (of Death Cab for Cutie fame), “Model Train Town” captures the strange tension of loving something – or someone – that the people around you just don’t understand. It’s a jagged, tender, and wildly infectious outpouring that hits like a panic attack and a hug at the same time.

I had a f*ed up dream
The whole world ended violently
The only people left were you and me
I felt relaxed and I felt guilty

When Petey screams that chorus, it’s like he’s exorcising a decade’s worth of repressed emotion. The words send shivers down the spine – not just because they’re haunting, but because they’re true. There’s something deeply unsettling and weirdly comforting in the way he sings about apocalypse as intimacy, destruction as relief. Petey USA’s blend of angst, humor, and sincerity has earned him a cult following, and with this song, he’s carved out a space that feels both wildly unhinged and unmistakably sincere. “Model Train Town” is more than just a song; it’s a heart-wrenching scream into the void – and a reminder that sometimes, the only way to feel okay is to sing your guts out. – Mitch Mosk

Who had a better year than Pink? I can’t think of many, and her victory lab Fancy Some More? pulled in a massive calvary of unsuspecting oddballs to remix her sensational mixtape. There’s a ton of standouts, but no moment is as memorable than Bladee harmonizing with himself over blown out 808s and the glossiest synths on any Pink song. “Stateside (with Bladee)” is a completely reworked version of the original single, almost to the point where it’s unrecognizable. Somehow, they managed to flip Pink’s wonderfully playful chorus and turn it into a cloud rapper’s dream. Bladee skates over it effortlessly. Gone are the UKG drums and melodic basslines, welcome the heavy distorted chords and a reverbing 808 under extremely heavy autotune. It’s a miracle it all came together, and it’s a sensational entry in PinkPantheress’ year. – Andrew Lamson

Any musician will tell you that a song needs tension and release. Sometimes, the release isn’t so obvious. It can look like an equally tormented explosion, offering catharsis but no real closure. Prewn’s “System” lives in the post-apocalyptic wasteland of the psyche, where the only relief is caving in, hitting the scorched earth once again. Complete with raw rumblings of the cello, the abrasive, distorted quality of Izzy Hagerup’s vocals, the track is unlike anything I have heard before, much less this year. – Nasim Elyasi

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The best thing about this song is how catchy, carefree and fun it sounds. Vocalist Ela Melo bursts in with her trademark drawl and hyper-cadent verses and it really is hard not to become even more enamored by her, and with RKS. The beginning riff of this song has been stuck in my head the entire year since this lead single came out over the summer. The chorus gives you that scream-along-with-the-windows-down feeling, and is anchored by energized, invigorated percussion by drummer Jess Haney. Setting the stage for their fifth album, “bones,” this fall, “Dang” showcases the more lighthearted tribulations of a budding relationship. It’s a flirty eye-roll of a song that doesn’t ask too much of the listener other than to enjoy the journey, and that is not hard to do. It’s a great example of Rainbow Kitten Surprise’s leaning-in to a more pop-rock sound without sacrificing what’s always made them unique. – Kendall Graham

I am fairly rapidly becoming a Reneé Rapp fan. Particularly because of “Leave Me Alone,” the first single she released this spring from her upcoming album, “BITE ME” in August. It’s such a fun, cheeky summer-y song, and it’s pretty self-explanatory from the title. Right now, Rapp just wants to let loose and sidestep expectations, taking her career at her own pace after her TV show, movie musical, debut studio album run. It reminds me so much of the Top 40 pop-rock from the early 2000s in the best way. I really like the way she very purposefully doesn’t take herself seriously in this song; it feels like she’s giving one big eye-roll the entire time. The drama is tuned up to sarcastic effect, and the result is a quick, breezy jam that can easily be (and is for this writer!) part of the soundtrack to a fun summer night out. – Kendall Graham

“Valley Ford” has one of the best choruses I have ever heard. Succinct, effective, heartbreaking, Renny Conti wails, “Didn’t I lie on, try on you? Didn’t I move on, move on through? Restless, futile bartering, are at the heart of this folk/rock track, describing a discontent with the way things are and an uncertainty of how to move forward. As Sophie Severs aptly said of this track, “We are catching Conti mid-motion, witnessing the contrail of searing honesty and tactful wit that he leaves in his wake.” – Nasim Elyasi

With “Sally When the Wine Runs Out” taking over the airwaves, as it should, an overlooked moment on Kansas Anymore (The Longest Goodbye) quietly shines. A song Role Model himself has called his favorite, “Some Protector” feels like the emotional center of the record. In many ways, it captures the album’s core message. Love and heartbreak have a way of changing you. Even if love has been lost, there will always be care.

The warmth of the guitars paired with gorgeous melodies fits seamlessly into the world of Kansas Anymore, while also hinting at what’s next for Role Model. When the beat enters in the second verse, the urgency in his voice sharpens, pulling the listener even deeper. Kansas Anymore is one of those albums that feels timeless and warm, meant to be played from start to finish. Over its run, Role Model has honed his artistry in an incredible way, and “Some Protector,” especially the way he performs it, feels like the culmination of that growth.

The bridge builds with beautiful anticipation before exploding into an absolute headbanger, a true stream of consciousness spilling out in real time. “Some Protector” is a special song, one that feels like both a turning point and a promise of how far Role Model can still go. – Kelly Dorogy

t’s a song about a girl.” That’s all Royel Otis had to say about “moody,” and hell, maybe that’s all they needed to say. The Australian duo’s frustration-fueled song is a dizzying blend of exasperation and exhilaration – a gloriously messy, tongue-in-cheek indie rock anthem that hits like a late-night meltdown with a side of eyeliner smudged just right. It’s raw, it’s catchy, it’s wry and wide-eyed all at once… and it prove an irresistible hit for them this year.

Co-written with GRAMMY-winner Amy Allen and produced by Blake Slatkin, “moody” is one heck of a fever dream. It taps into that chaotic, obsessive, impossible-to-win kind of relationship – the kind that makes you feel like you’re spiraling, even as you’re grinning through the chaos. “She’s always givin’ it to me / Late nights, she always accusin’ / Last time, she said she would kill me / My girl’s a bitch when she’s moody,” Royel Maddell sings, before undercutting the whole thing with a deadpan shrug: “But she’s my everything, she’s all that I need / Sometimes more than I want.”

There’s a wink behind the weariness, a smirk beneath the self-loathing. That’s the Royel Otis sweet spot – undeniably and irresistibly catchy, just self-aware enough to sting, and impossible not to sing along to. “moody” sounds like a lost ‘90s alt-rock gem filtered through 2025’s lo-fi lens – all jangle, pulse, and punch. It’s both a throwback and a statement: These guys know exactly what they’re doing, and they’re having a blast doing it. Royel Otis delivered the summer’s sharpest, snarkiest love song – and they’ve never sounded more in control of the spiral. True to its name, “moody” is f*ing moody in the best possible way – and it’s a worthy anthem to earn Royel Otis their very first #1.

“Manchild” feels like Sabrina Carpenter throwing the windows down and flooring it – bright, bold, and gleefully unbothered, powered by color and confidence and a wicked sense of humor. Following Short n’ Sweet, it couldn’t have been a better return: sharper, louder, and more self-assured, with Carpenter leaning fully into her wit and pop instincts without sanding down the edges. The song snaps and sparkles with intent, its cheeky punchlines landing alongside glossy hooks that feel designed for open roads, late nights, and shouting along with friends who know every word.

I spent the whole summer – and a good stretch of fall – singing “Manchild” at the top of my lungs, and that’s exactly how I’ll always remember it: pure elation. There’s an intoxicating free-spiritedness to the track, a sense of unabating revelry and cheer that never dims no matter how many times you hit repeat. It’s playful without being disposable, euphoric without being empty – a pop song that understands the power of joy, of not taking yourself too seriously, and of letting brightness be its own kind of truth. In a year full of great music, “Manchild” stands out for how good it feels to live inside it. – Mitch Mosk

fter her perfect album, Bloodless, in the Spring I never thought the Fall would bring another single so soon. Too lucky! The line that blew me away: “Baby, welcome to my garden/ All the light here is a bargain/ All the light here is a bargain.” – Hannah Burns

In their debut studio album, I Said I Love You First, Selena Gomez and producer Benny Blanco reveal raw, heart-wrenching authenticity with their finale song, “Scared of Loving You.” The pop-acoustic closer radiates clean, finger-picking guitar full of tender energy, capturing the listening experience on replay. While listening to the emotional ballad ‘I Said I Love You First,’ I can resonate with the romantic heart in an honest reflection that transports listeners into a morning lit curtain scene, where they choose to wake up beside each other every day, regardless of the outcome of each new day together. “Scared of Loving You” exposes the hearts of listeners, especially those seeking a genuine connection and reflection on the relationships in their lives, as portrayed beautifully by talented producers Benny Blanco and Selena Gomez, who connect through their unified sound that invites listeners to sink into a vulnerable, poetic nature of the imperfect beauty of love and connection. – Ashley Littlefield

Having released a few singles this year, “Two Step” from Johannesburg-based artist Shoka Sunflower was one that stood out. The smooth, laid-back hip-hop track features velvety vocals, a gently hypnotic beat, and warm guitar lines that dance around the edges without ever stealing focus. But underneath there is a deeper message. The lyrics circle around heartbreak without naming it, using charm and groove as a kind of emotional shield.

Produced by Moo Latte, the track shows what happens when top-tier production meets real vulnerability: you get something that’s both polished and raw, subtle and striking. Shoka may be dancing around his feelings, but “Two Step” hits right on target. The track is from an upcoming album, FOR NOW KEEP DANCING, so keep your eyes peeled for more! – Joe Beer

I got my first taste of Snacktime back in 2023 at the Burlington Jazz Festival. I only got to see them perform for about 10-15 minutes, but it was enought to convince me that these guys were super talented, energetic, and funny. In 2025, I’ve gotten to have that initial impression reinforced quite firmly by catching this lively seven-man band from Philadelphia another two times– first at Boston Calling in May, and then at the Montreal Jazz Festival in June. Both sets were terrific fun all the way through, and they also were further enlivened by live renditions of their newest single, “Sunshine.” The song is meant to represent a wide array of emotions; according to the group’s SoundCloud page, “at its core, ‘Sunshine’ is about the highs and lows of love — the good, the bad, and everything in between.” But in the end, I’d say the most prevalent feeling that this track winds up producing is happiness; you walk away from it feeling as joyful and high-spirited as the rest of Snacktime’s muisc makes you feel. Talk about an effective summer anthem! All seven guys in this group have a gift for lifting their listeners’ spirits, and they pulled it off to remarkable effects once again with “Sunshine.” – Josh Weiner

“I don’t wanna get undressed for a new person all over again.” With one simple, gut-punch of a line, sombr captured the exhaustion and hesitancy of opening your heart after heartbreak. “Undressed” is as dreamy and aching through and through today as it was when I first heard it in March — an irresistibly catchy indie pop reverie wrapped in bittersweet longing. Glistening guitar loops and honeyed vocals mask a quietly devastating emotional core, as the 19-year-old singer/songwriter and producer confronts the weight of intimacy, memory, and emotional renewal.

There’s a gentle vulnerability embedded in the track’s soft shimmer, a heavy-hearted nostalgia woven into its breezy pulse. “Undressed” lingers like a bruise – warm and melodic on the surface, but aching just underneath. While the LA-based, New York native (née Shane Boose) saw his breakout into the mainstream with this year’s debut album I Barely Know Her, this track remains a personal favorite – touching a tender human core, resonating with anyone who’s ever had to pick up the pieces and try to love again. – Mitch Mosk

“Candle” by North London’s Sorry off their third LP, COSPLAY has this definitive rhythm that swings hard during the entirety of the song. It’s absolutely hip-shaking, and I will and do bop my head. Asha Lorenz’s vocals are sticky, assertively breathless, and implacable. The keys are bouncy, adding to the swing. The song plays with the metaphor of a human loosely being a candle, and the first lyrics are, “I’m just a candle filling in / I don’t get fat / Don’t eat anything / I don’t burn out / Don’t fade away.” It’s playful while kind of dark in the best way. The oohs in the song are catchy and sultry. At the bridge, Lorenz’s vocals soar into this high and clear pitch, and it emphasizes this plea and statement of reality. It’s easy to get completely enveloped in the song at the bridge if you haven’t already. “Candle” hits, and it will lead you into the best kind of trance. – Jonah Evans

The pick of the band’s EP The World’s Fair, their first release in 6 years, Volume Control represents Swervedriver at their deft and nuanced best. Beginning, as many of their songs do, with the whole band in full flight, Volume Control harks back to the noise and melody of the band’s peak 90s output. With abstract lyrics wandering around in the mix, Volume Control has that ambivalent vibe, the heady euphoria mixed with worldly sadness which makes Swervedriver one of the most compelling and complex bands out there. Adam Franklin’s vocals, ethereal and mysterious, backed by Jimmy Hatridge’s towering guitar melodies, are the core of Swervedriver’s sound, and are ever-prominent throughout Volume Control.

There’s a string backing throughout Volume Control which weaves in and out of the speakers, dragging the song to its 2nd act and conclusion. It’s the most prominent use of strings by the band in 30 years, and adds a real sense of occasion as the song drops for a piano breakdown which is as monumental as it is subtle. A busy and varied piece, Volume Control heralds the return of one of Oxford’s brightest and most underrated bands, with a focus on their classic shoegaze-inspired style. The self-described practitioners of Space Travel Rock And Roll once again have come out with some of the densest, trippiest and hugely enjoyable guitar grooves out there. – Adam Davidson

Las Vegas-born and raised, Sylvaner grew up in a house where vinyl was in constant rotation thanks to his father who ran multiple record stores. Sound quickly became his first language and his preferred way of connecting with others. That instinct eventually pulled him behind the scenes, engineering records for other artists, before quietly nudging him towards his own voice and ultimately initiating the foundation of a debut project that now begins with “Pentimento.”

Entirely self-made, “Pentimento” is a track that feels both expansive and intimate, anchored by tender, soul-soaked vocals that move effortlessly through sparse guitar lines, hazy harmonies, and a cinematic atmosphere. While it initially reads as a beautifully restrained breakup song, there’s a complexity beneath it, where Sylvaner explores what lingers after love has left the picture. Subtle and sensual “Pentimento” stands out as a striking introduction to an artist unafraid to sit with vulnerability. – Joe Beer

As the seasons shift, the sentimental feeling reminds you where you are in time. Kevin Parker of Tame Impala reminds listeners to lean into where they are on their individual timeline, as his renovated electronic sound carries listeners into an “End of Summer” swell. Parker redefines what warmth and nostalgia bring to a time and place. Five years after Slow Rush, Parker returns this year with a new, evolved sound, carried by the tide of his electronic textures, on October 17 via Columbia Records, with Deadbeat. Each hi-hat shuffle and low-end bassline solidifies the timestamp of personal emotion cresting in his music, while expressing his influence that is rooted in Bush Doof, Australian rave culture. Parker weaves remnants of relationship context into waves of reflections that shift in an undivided current. Collectively, Parker refines his sonic textures in an hourglass worth the wait. “End of Summer” invites listeners to see the sun’s rays beneath the surface of memory while reflecting on life’s wavelengths, crafting a timeless groove no matter the season. – Ashley Littlefield

I’ve always been a Tame Impala fan; I’m not ashamed to say I think Kevin Parker is kind of a musical genius. A writer, producer, musician, multi-hyphenate who has an amazing ear for mixing pop, rock and synth styles; a New Wave-revivalist, a modern-day troubadour who seems to lay it all on the line across all of his projects. That being said, “Deadbeat,” his newest album, took me a couple of tries to truly appreciate. It’s much more house-leaning than his other work, filled with more mid- and downtempo beats that still wind up making many of the songs truly dynamic with those tempo, beat and time changes. “My Old Ways” should be relatable to pretty much anyone with any kind of vice, no matter how big or small. This one has hit especially hard for me in this second half of the year, for clear but unidentified personal reasons. It’s near-perfect in tempo, and I like that it starts off with that lovely piano riff. Self-deprecation is something Parker has in spades and uses so smartly to his advantage, and it works so well on this song. That riff and these themes have stayed with me and been a salve for some of the more trying times I’ve faced lately, which is exactly what good music is supposed to do. – Kendall Graham

What was surely meant to be a throwaway diss track in response to ex-boyfriend The Kid LAROI’s “A COLD PLAY,” mere months following the release of her latest juggernaut record So Close To What?, Tate McRae’s “TIT FOR TAT” became an instant sensation. The brash, sassy single is incredibly engaging, leaning into ruthlessness rather than forgiveness.

McRae, likely creatively and emotionally stimulated amid her most successful touring run to date, hopped in the booth with the intention to definitively state that the man she’d sung, “I know love, what it is when it feels like this,” on SCTW? album track “I know love” about just months prior, now meant very little, if not nothing at all, to her: “Thought I might love you again/ See how I feel/ Now that you’re actin’ like that, I never will.”

Dominated by a chorus as decisive and attainable as her very best, including “exes” and “it’s ok I’m ok,” McRae, along with a host of feminine voices serving as gang vocals, repeatedly accentuates the main point of contention, which alludes to possible infidelity: “Last night she answered my call, it sealed the deal/ Right now, I’m not even about cha.” And, unwilling to allow LAROI the opportunity to best her in a public matchup, she ensures him he is fighting a losing battle. “Let’s go song for song, let’s go back to back/ Fix your f*in’ self, kiss my ass for that.”

A losing battle it certainly was, as McRae and co.’s ability to tap into a hyper specific feeling and translate it to an unmistakable contemporary pop template in a short period of time is unmatched. She needed not extend herself past just a handful of notes and cadences to “seal the deal,” as the skittering pop-trap production underneath her, generated with no regard for nuance, drives the song, and its messaging, along with little else necessary. It is an instant pop classic, and easily one of the most ubiquitous of the year. Its live version, with added choreography and malicious drum hits in the bridge, is even more lethal. – Noah Wade

Even if The Life of a Showgirl wasn’t Taylor Swift’s greatest critical success overall (even though I personally enjoyed it a lot), I’m glad that most people were at least able to cut its lead (and seemingly lone) single some slack. Many years after reimagining Romeo & Juliet in “Love Story,” Swift now incorporates famous another Shakespeare character – albeit one who’s had less cultural representation than R&J over the years – into her lyrics quite effectively. Saving anyone’s heart from the fate of Ophelia is a massive service, and recounting that miraculous process makes for an entertaining and memorable single. Its creative and culturally sensitive music video wins it some points in my book as well. – Josh Weiner

Teen Jesus and the Jean Teasers know how to rile things up. Their trademark raucous energy is always infectious, always makes you want to sing (loudly) along. Their newest song, “BALCONY,” is no different. It’s a fun romp through a summer house party where a breakup is encouraged, and a rebound hookup is both explicitly sought out and an imminent, foregone conclusion. The band continues to embrace and expand upon its pop-punk ethos, and recalls the spirit of riot grrrl groups and what’s so great about them (hint: it’s the freedom to be exactly what they want while pointedly ignoring expectations and the dissension that accompanies doing that.) “BALCONY” is one of two singles released by Teen Jesus so far this year, which clearly suggests that an album, or at least an EP, is due out the second half of this year. Based on the strength and controlled chaos of “BALCONY,” it’s going to blow the speakers (and our headphones, and our eardrums) out. – Kendall Graham

The Favors left me speechless this year – not for lack of words, but because I kept singing their song nonstop. As sonically raw and radiant as it is emotionally resonant, “The Little Mess You Made” feels like an instant classic. The Favors’ breathtaking debut single is a slow-burning reckoning that wears its wounds out in the open. It’s Ashe and Finneas O’Connell like we’ve never heard them – not just as collaborators, but co-conspirators in heartbreak. It’s unfiltered. It’s human. It’s harmony as confrontation and catharsis, all wrapped into one. There’s something timeless about a duet done right – the tension, the tenderness, the quiet ache of two voices pulling toward each other even as they fall apart. This song checks all the boxes.

Structurally, “The Little Mess You Made” is genius – a slow waltz of hurt and honesty. FINNEAS opens with his side of the story, Ashe responds with hers, and by the third verse, they’re singing over and through one another, echoing lines like ghosts of conversations past. “The little mess you made / Is filling up our room…” becomes “The little mess you made / Is all over the news…” and the weight builds from there, each verse intensifying until the pair collapse under the ache of it all. “Say when / You’ll never see me again,” they repeat, until there’s nothing left to say.

Lyrically and emotionally, “The Little Mess You Made” holds nothing back – but it’s the delivery that devastates. The way Ashe leans into her lines with quiet fury. The way FINNEAS lets his voice break just enough to sting. There’s no ego here, only ache. As Ashe puts it, “This is the way every artist dreams of making an album. People don’t sing together anymore when they’re recording, but it was so romantic and fun.” That magic – of two artists in the room, facing each other, singing through the wreckage – lives in every line.

As an introduction and this first look at The Favors’ stunning debut album The Dream, “The Little Mess You Made” is dramatic and dynamic, delicate and devastating – a testament to what happens when two artists choose to share the spotlight, the story, and the scar tissue. It’s a beautiful, radiant reckoning – and it’s one hell of a debut. Even if this record is all they ever do together, The Favors will have made an indelible mark on me – one that I’ll forever cherish. – Mitch Mosk

“I’d fake my death if it weren’t such a mess for the people I love…” Nate Ruess opens “Holy Roller” with a line that could only come from someone who’s lived through the fire and come out scorched but smiling. It’s been nineteen years since The Format’s sophomore album Dog Problems, yet their first new single in nearly two decades didn’t just pick up where they left off – it erupted, drenched in self-awareness, spirit, and that trademark blend of wit and wound that once made them the most beloved band to ever quietly implode.

“Holy Roller” is a fun, fiery indie rock anthem filled with red-hot passion and angst, charisma and churn. It’s peak The Format: Self-critical and raw, achingly exposed and unfiltered, emotionally charged and vulnerable all at once. Ruess sounds as galvanizing and glorious as ever – his voice still that rare lightning-in-a-throat combination of theater, tenderness, and thrill – while Sam Means’ glistening guitars crash and shimmer beneath him, joined by producer Brendan O’Brien on bass and Matt Chamberlain on drums.

The Format were always masters of existential pop, marrying grandeur with grit; on their “new” first single, they sound older, wiser, but no less daring. “Holy Roller” isn’t nostalgia – it’s renewal. It’s proof that the band who once sang about letting her sink never truly did. They just went deep, held their breath, and came up roaring. For all the time that’s passed, The Format don’t sound like a band chasing ghosts, dwelling on their own history, or fixating on a legacy. Sure, they’re picking up right where they left off, but that’s not what “Holy Roller” is about. There’s no grand statement here, no desperate grasp at glory – just two old friends making something beautiful again and letting the music speak for itself. Fast-forward two decades, and “Holy Roller” feels like the same dynamic artistry – rawer, wiser, and bolder – stepping back into the conversation, refusing silence, demanding a response, ready to burn and bleed and hope again. – Mitch Mosk

Stepping out of their comfort zone, The Hails released “Different Guy,” a single unlike any of their previous releases. With a bold, authentic sound, the group’s ambition is captured throughout each lyric: “We’re not so different when you’re not afraid to die.” Their progression as a band continues to grow, as they refine their sound and experiment. The group shared a bill with Never Ending Fall during their tour this past year, with euphoric energy, one that was felt behind each of their songs. The five-piece has had an exciting year, and will continue to unapologetically express themselves. – Miranda Urbanczyk

The Happy Return have entered two different chapters throughout this year. Chapter 1 (Autumn), and Chapter 2 (Winter), which each include three singles. The last song of the second chapter, “Are You Moving On” ends with a gut-wrenching message that immediately identifies with the listener. Lyrics such as: “Everything that you said carousels in my head” and “Am I moving on, moving on to nothing?” capture the absolute frustration, confusion, and terror that follows heartbreak. Pain can swallow a person whole, causing them to question everything they once knew. This self-dialogue comes straight from the heart, which makes it so much more of an emotional listen. The single isn’t just about heartbreak; it embodies what it means to have your heart broken. The Happy Return conquers the complex topics of self-doubt, constant questioning, fear, and of course, the difficulty of moving on in four minutes and twelve seconds. – Miranda Urbanczyk

Fifteen years in, The Head and the Heart still know how to make a song feel like a door swinging open – and “Jubilee,” from their sixth album Aperture (one of my albums of the year), is the purest, brightest version of that rush. This was, candidly, a tough call to make – “Pool Break,” “Fire Escape,” and plenty of other Aperture moments made a real case – but “Jubilee” kept winning in my chest: The record’s ninth track is an endlessly effervescent, instantly life-affirming surge where euphoria isn’t manufactured – it’s released. The refrain lands like a mantra you can actually live inside: “Jubilee, jubilee, jubilee in the springtime.”

What makes this song soar is how vividly it captures the band’s current evolution – emotionally expansive, sonically adventurous, and more collaborative than ever. Jonathan Russell told us the track began with a different instrumental before keyboardist Kenny Hensley brought in “this piano part that felt really heroic. Like classic Springsteen.” Matty Gervais remembered them channeling “this kind of early 2000s emo-pop punk edge,” only refracted through acoustics and that wonderfully accidental “D-A-D-A-A-F#” tuning that threaded through the sessions. The result is bright but dimensional: Russell described how the tuning “gave the song this beautiful melancholic vibe, which paired really well with that upbeat energy. It’s like sadness and joy braided together” – the exact tension that makes the euphoria feel earned instead of hollow.

That braid is why “Jubilee” ultimately takes it for me. Aperture is about finding clarity through connection, about choosing hope again and again – and while the entire record is worth its weight in gold, “Jubilee” is the album’s most immediate proof of concept, a communal singalong that doesn’t deny the mess of living so much as it insists we’re allowed to feel lightness, too. When I think back on The Head and the Heart in 2025, this is the feeling I return to: The clean, radiant lift of a band re-rooting in what matters most, and letting the light in wide enough for all of us to step through. – Mitch Mosk

“Liar” feels like a long-overdue confession, letting emotions that have been held in far too long finally spill out. A highlight is an almost mournful interplay between violin and cello, setting the stage for Luke Wygodny’s intense delivery. The tension builds to a cathartic climax, where the strings and Wygodny’s voice hit their fullest intensity. The track delivers an unflinching call-out and finds freedom in releasing that long-held tension, ending with the haunting line: “I just lied to you / to get on with my life.” – Aileen Goos

Nostalgic, shiny, and oh-so-catchy, “Dreams” showcases the talent and style of The Knocks and frequent collaborator Dragonette on their collab album Revelations. If Revelations were a movie, “Dreams” is that sweet spot in the film when the lead and love interest are enjoying the best bits of courtship, romance, and that intoxicating feeling of “what if?” Glossy ’80s-inspired production sets the stage for the fun, flirty lyrics sung by Dragonette:

In my da-da-da-da dreams
You’ve got dirty jeans and
Cream coloured sneakers
And my hand slips under your t-shirt

“Dreams” served as the soundtrack of my spring-to-summer season, a breath of fresh air after a heavy winter, adding levity to my step with every listen. It showcases The Knocks’ signature infectious sound of synth-infused pop, and Dragonette’s dreamy delivery locks you in for a tight 3:10 that’s all too easy to play again and again. – Alex Killian

The Orchestra (For Now) are a band that, in their own words, “are here to rule the world,” and nowhere is that more immediately apparent than with their track “Skins” off of their debut EP, Plan 75. The song is completely and utterly restless, featuring everything from scratchy violin and cello to jazz drumset breakdowns and mystical-sounding passages laden with effects. There’s a sense of anxiety and unease throughout the song, coalescing in music that sounds like it could go off the rails at literally any moment. It’s an art rock affair content to fill around four and a half minutes with an utterly bonkers sound, capped off with manic vocals that rattle off everything from “Gangsta’s Paradise” to the titular TV show Skins. The Orchestra (For Now) definitely wants the listener to be left with more questions than answers, and the mystique combined with the messy, art-punk sounds that they want to hammer into the listener’s brain definitely helps the questions stick. “Skins” is brilliant, and Plan 75 is an EP that promises the best to come from their future. – David Diame

Co-written by band co-founder Tammy Rogers, Tom Douglas, and Daniel Ethridge, this track pulls together some of the common threads of the album – the motif of the river, and the theme of what happens when someone is pushed too far. The lyrics build a narrative of an abusive husband whose body somehow ends up in the river – missing his wedding ring finger. The underlying mystery is the identification of the “copperheaded” narrator of the song. Celebrating their 20th anniversary with a Grammy nomination for Outrun, the album on which this song appears, the SteelDrivers have consistently maintained their pure driving bluegrass instrumentals and stellar harmonies. – Nancy Posey

After catching our attention with “The Game of Life” back in January, THEKOIWAY returns with a completely different—but equally compelling—statement in “La Calle Quema.” Where the earlier release featured a female vocalist, rich in brass and jazzy textures, “La Calle Quema” sees THEKOIWAY pivoting into grittier territory. This time, the vocals come from two male voices trading bars with a hip-hop edge, riding a raw, percussive groove. Though sung entirely in Spanish, the song communicates on a visceral level, proving that you don’t need to speak the language to feel the weight of what’s being said.

THEKOIWAY is led by Chilean artist Victor Vildósola, offering a sound that is fiercely versatile, pulling from his time spent between both Santiago and Brooklyn and his love of colliding different sonic worlds, from Andean instruments and funk grooves, to hip-hop rhythms and Latin folk. The collaborative spark with Jamez Manuel adds a sharp edge, narrating the story of a life shaped by the streets, capturing the tension between struggle and resilience, and the moments of joy that emerge in the midst of chaos. – Joe Beer

Before the deluxe version of the album Box for Buddy, Box for Star, I don’t think I’d ever heard this song. I know I heard it, but I didn’t really listen. Something about MJ Lenderman’s voice allowed me to finally hear the lyrics. And then I couldn’t get enough. I was singing “and I know it’s only cards, but love I feel your hearts in spades” on the train, and stealing the aux to play it on a road trip, showing it to folks at a wedding, dancing to the jangly synth pop at the grocery store. – Hannah Burns

When I saw MJ Lenderman in concert, he opened with “Dancing in the Club.” I was elated, because I love his version, but confused, because it’s rare for an artist to open with a cover. Lenderman brought forlorn, whiskey-soured outlook on love to the once shimmering, dreamy synth-pop track. Amos’ self-pitying lyrics fit perfectly in Lenderman’s catalogue, allowing the track to lead two different, but equally wonderful, lives. – Nasim Elyasi

The second song off of Tyler the Creator’s ninth record, DON’T TAP THE GLASS, is two and a half minutes of 808 magic, synth licks, and hankering vigor. Imbued with the contagious funk of Positive Force and the sweat-soaked spirit of James Brown, this track was a nice change of pace for his discography, especially after 2024’s weighty Chromakopia. Lust never sounded so good. – Nasim Elyasi

Vansire pair dreamy indie beats alongside hopeful lyrics in their single “Part of the Dream.” True love is an unbeatable feeling, one worth searching for, even in the smallest of things. In this song, the musicial duo explores the idea of running towards love. Fantasies bring hope, and remind listeners that they aren’t alone in their search for love. After all, we’re all dreamers, so let’s dream together. – Miranda Urbanczyk

“Sweet song is a long con” is the first sentence of this twangy, heart-rending ode to the fickle nature of love. Lead singer/songwriter Karly Hartzman likens champagne to the labile elderberry wine, contending with fly-by-night romanticism (“and your eyes are the green of tornado skies”). Hartsman’s falsetto flaps like butterfly wings, reviving the sweet sentimentality of the band’s Americana roots and revelling in the bittersweet. – Nasim Elyasi

Young Miko returns to her trap roots with “WASSUP,” the hard-hitting single produced by Mauro. Miko displays her confident flow over an interpolation of Lil’ Wayne’s “Lollipop,” and classic trap production with swagger. “WASSUP” proves that Young Miko can and should take up space in a genre so clearly dominated by men, and successfully so. Her cadence, playful approach, and love of women shines in a way that similar tracks by male artists don’t. It’s clear that Miko delivers songs about women because she loves them, and they love her, not because she desires to own them. A refreshing difference that creates space for new fans and delivers big for the OG’s. – Alex Killian

Zain Effendi is one of my favorite film composers who is known for his work on The Dark Knight and Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End. This year, Effendi’s piece “Opening” secured him a GRAMMY nomination for “Best Instrumental Composition.” Effendi’s music is intense, immersive, and empowering. He makes each listener feel like the hero of their own story.

“Opening” stuns with triumphant notes of brass, dynamic waves of percussion that course beneath the surface, and uplifting bursts of strings. Released by Walt Disney Records for EPCOT: Test Track, “Opening” marks the beginning of an adventurous journey. Effendi writes the soundtrack to our life on this undertaking of epic proportions. – Grace Holtzclaw

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