In an age of dwindling attention spans, songs are the most discrete commercial musical unit and thus the most legible—or at least simplest—route for engaging with what the year in music had to offer. But don’t let “simplicity” fool you into thinking the 50 tracks we’ve assembled here aren’t constantly rethinking what a song is in 2025, from the anti-pop of Oklou to Justin Bieber’s swing toward minimalist alt-R&B.
It’s notable that, given the year we’ve had, notes of introspection and despair occasionally pop up in these songs, but you’ll mostly find salve-like oases that numb the pain for two, five, or even nine minutes at a time. Sometimes joy is an act of protest.
Atop our list is a British dance-pop juggernaut whose become one of the most reliable generators of instant favorites, and she’s a poster child for concision. Her work, and that of the other artists below, is evidence of both the complex themes and utterly straightforward rewards that the best songs bring us. Charles Lyons-Burt
Editor’s Note: Listen to the entire list on Spotify.
50. Youth Lagoon, “Gumshoe (Dracula from Arkansas)”
On “Gumshoe (Dracula from Arkansas),” a standout cut from Youth Lagoon’s Rarely Do I Dream, Trevor Powers poignantly strings together fragments from his youth into a yarn that reflects how children process the world and all of its darkness: “It was the world I had/Scenes I wish I never saw/The summer taught me that/Life’s a baseball bat to the jaw.” Eric Mason
49. Jim Legxacy, “Father”
Jim Legxacy’s unexpectedly moving “Father”—which doesn’t reach two minutes and would be considered midtempo, if not outright brisk, by past standards—is what passes for ruminative and introspective these days. Good thing Legxacy, who blends genres with ease and has a sneaky ear for melody, is at the helm, twisting a sample of George Smallwood’s “I Love My Father” to bridge the gap between his fatherlessness and that of a girl. Maybe the only thing patriarchy is good for is taking care of someone else. Lyons-Burt
48. Sleep Token, “Caramel”
Sleep Token—a masked, cloaked metal act whose anonymous members stage “rituals” rather than concerts—isn’t subtle, and “Caramel,” a sprawling suite fusing doom metal, reggaeton, R&B, and rap, is as audacious as it is bewildering. The track straddles the line between thunderous anthem and surreal fever dream, and by its home stretch, blastbeats surge alongside a confession that matches the song’s newfound sonic force: “I thought I got better/But maybe I didn’t.” Paul Attard
47. Infinite Coles, “Dad & I”
Misread by some as an angry dis at Infinite Coles’s father, Ghostface Killah, “Dad & I” is a heartbreaking but remarkably gracious one-sided dialogue. “You never talk to me, said I’m not living right/You tell me to man up, yeah/When I put on makeup,” Coles sings over a midtempo beat and spare turntable scratches. The raw emotions at work here are enhanced by the smoothness of the music, which suggests a victory over his father’s homophobia and rejection. Steve Erickson
46. Lady Gaga, “Abracadabra”
A gloriously witchy soundtrack for the coolest Halloween party, “Abracadabra” revives the energy and popcraft of Lady Gaga’s early years. She rides the groove with a Siouxsie and the Banshees interpolation, sawtooth synthesizers, and a theatrical hook comprised of her signature chopped-up syllables. A night at the club turns into “death or love tonight,” celebrating the transformational power of dancing. Erickson
45. Bad Bunny, “DTMF”
Bad Bunny continues his steadfast mission of honoring his home of Puerto Rico on “DTMF,” a subtle, wistful combination of plena and reggaeton (pitched at a gentler pace than usual for the artist). When a chorus of other voices joins him on the song’s hook, it feels communal and raucous, like a bar room singalong that happens to be led by one of the most skillful popsmiths currently working. Lyons-Burt
44. Clipse featuring Tyler, the Creator, “P.O.V.”
Pusha T dices through his verse on “P.O.V.” like he’s settling a score, his voice twisting against itself during the chorus so that it sounds like two narrators sharing the same deranged conscience. Tyler, the Creator drops in like the lifelong Clipse acolyte that he is, delivering the track’s coldest verse. But besting them both is Malice, who crashes in on a beat switch that detonates beneath him to uncork some hair-raising bars. Kyle Kohner
43. Oklou, “Blade Bird”
On the glitch-tinged guitar ballad “Blade Bird,” Oklou takes an obvious metaphor—a restless lover as a bird—and imbues it with menace: “You’re so cute, my/Blade is on the bird/I’ll be the one/Who ends up getting hurt.” The most obvious sonic touchpoint here is turn-of-the-millennium alt-pop, with the song inhabiting an emotional zone between Imogen Heap’s romantic realism and the disaffected angst of Y2K alternative rock. Mason
42. Julien Baker & Torres, “Sugar in the Tank”
A standout cut form their collaborative album Send a Prayer My Way, Julien Baker and Torres’s “Sugar in the Tank” could have been released at any time in the last six or seven decades. Dripping with passion and sincerity, the song is a joyful, romantic paeon that yearns with catharsis: “I hate just watching through the window when you pull up…Sitting outside with the engine running.” Jeremy Winograd
41. Blackpink, “Jump”
After a three-year hiatus, K-pop juggernaut Blackpink returned this summer with a wildly leftfield, club-ready single about hopping about, executed with the machine-like precision that only a team of eight credited songwriters and five producers could provide. With the throbbing hardstyle kick that closes things out, it’s hard to imagine anyone hearing “Jump” and not obeying the group’s command. Attard
40. FKA twigs, “Girl Feels Good”
The breezy “Girl Feels Good” is an ode to the simplicity of female pleasure whose sonic palette falls somewhere between Madonna’s Ray of Light and that Dust Brothers song from the opening credits of David Fincher’s Fight Club. It’s a testament to FKA twigs’s singular vision that she manages to synthesize the track’s ’90s reference points into something sublimely contemporary. Lyons-Burt
39. S.G. Goodman, “Heaven Song”
S.G. Goodman spends nine slow-burning minutes escorting her dog to the afterlife in an old Chevy Malibu. Along the way, she encounters a bevy of allegorical characters, from Love and Sin to Jesus himself, that could have only come from the mind of a Southern Baptist-raised songwriter. It wouldn’t be surprising if the song’s ecstatic crescendo is exactly what it sounds like when one enters the pearly gates. Winograd
38. Geese, “Husbands”
There’s an airy lift to Geese’s “Husbands,” a gospel-like quality to the vocals, and a rolling groove that lets the tune swing high enough to make you really feel the vague aches that burden frontman Cameron Winter’s troubled heart. He sings the song like a riddle, dodging explanation even as he spills a kind of lonely truth. It’s one of those rare tracks that expands what a band can be without shedding what makes them unforgettable. Kohner
37. Sudan Archives, “Noire”
Dark, dense, and hypnotic, Sudan Archives’s “Noire” feels a little dangerous and absolutely massive. “Assertiveness, yes it turns me on…There’s nothing wrong with a little chase,” she teases atop a thunderous beat, orchestral swells, and ominous piano dyads. This is dance-floor claustrophobia as seduction. Sal Cinquemani
36. Florry, “First It Was a Movie, Then It Was a Book”
“First It Was a Movie, Then It Was a Book” bottles everything that makes Florry great: looseness, humor, and the spontaneous crackle of a jam session. The song veers from rambling Neil Young-esque guitar solos to the cheeky fantasies of an underachiever daydreaming herself into stardom. The kicker is the song’s sincerity: The whole thing radiates a refreshingly reckless optimism that makes its self-mythologizing feel less like a joke and more like rock-‘n’-roll destiny. Nick Seip
35. Robert Forster, “Such a Shame”
Soft, sad, and undeniably soul-bearing, Robert Forster’s “Such a Shame” follows a middle-aged rock star taking stock of his life and the quiet dissatisfaction that comes with it. “You can look into a mirror you don’t recognize yourself/So you keep on going as somebody else,” the Australian singer-songwriter observes at one point, a prime example of the many gentle, rueful moments that make this subtly devastating track linger long after it ends. Attard
34. Ethel Cain, “Dust Bowl”
Ethel Cain has long had a talent of making earworms out of slowcore story-songs, and on “Dust Bowl,” she creates an unexpected hook in the lilting way she sings, “Viet-nah-ah-ah-ah-ah-am,” from inside what sounds like a tidal wave. The engrossing track distills the tragedy of the love story at the center of Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You, with Cain reminiscing on a doomed relationship with her “Pretty boy/Consumed by death/With the holes in his sneakers/And his eyes all over me.” Mason
33. Destroyer, “Cataract Time”
With its jazzy filigrees, including a lengthy sax solo, the eight-minute “Cataract Time” would fit nicely on Destroyer’s 2011 album Kaputt. But it stands out on Dan’s Boogie for how uncommonly direct it is, as singer Dan Bejar confronts the indignities of aging and approaches criticism by strangers by seeing the virtues of simply living past them. Erickson
32. Jade, “Unconditional”
On “Unconditional,” Jade’s undying devotion manifests in technicolor synths and melodramatic turns of phrase: “I will hold your hand forever/Even if my heart explodes.” For all of the singer’s promises of constancy and security, though, there’s an off-kilter sense of unease in the breakneck tone shifts from tenderness to “kickin’, shakin’, and screamin’” and back. Mason
31. Miley Cyrus, “Pretend You’re God”
Drawing on the quiet despondency of Bruce Springsteen’s “Streets of Philadelphia” and the bald-faced rage of Björk’s “Army of Me,” Miley Cyrus’s “Pretend Your God” pairs the distinctive drum loop and hushed backing vocals of the former with the latter’s grimy bassline to construct a haunting backdrop for the singer’s howling desire. Cinquemani
30. Food House, “Now 2”
If you took the last half-decade of hyperpop and internet culture and distilled them into just over three minutes, the end result would resemble Food House’s hyperactive “Now 2.” The track is self-aware to a fault, yet it’s pure bubblegum with an abrasive edge and absurdist charm. Where else will you hear “Doompy” rhymed with “poopie” and have it all somehow land without being totally cringeworthy? Attard
29. Wednesday, “Pick Up That Knife”
“Pick Up That Knife” plays like Wednesday’s entire catalog in miniature, as harsh blasts of distortion assert themselves between calm arpeggios before the push and pull eventually builds to a triumphant climax bursting with Southern rock-style guitars. It’s a rich gumbo of a song that doesn’t sound like any other band on Earth could have cooked it up. Winograd
28. Corook, “They!”
At first glance, “They!”—like much of self-described “serious person” Corook’s output—seems straightforward: brightly melodic, instrumentally stripped-back, structurally simple. But appearances can be deceiving: The artist’s emotionally direct yet layered lyrics and seamless command of songcraft reveal talents well beyond their years. That these gifts are deployed in service of such a humane, celebratory—and, depressingly, much-needed—message of acceptance is a welcome bonus. Attard
27. Bad Bunny, “Baile Inolvidable”
“Baile Inolvidable” is a spine-chilling collision of old and new—the kind of classic Puerto Rican salsa you might hear spilling from a colmado or a car passing by. Bad Bunny balances mournful, cerebral reflection against horns that erupt with carnal celebration, turning the dance floor into a metaphor for life itself: as a party that must end, and the past lovers who linger long after the music stops. Seip
26. Lorde, “Current Affairs”
On the soul-bearing “Current Affairs,” Lorde and producer Jim-E Stack flip a bawdy Dexta Daps sample into a melancholic meditation on the grotesque vulnerability of the body and the lines people cross when they’re lonely and overcome by desire. “My bed is on fire/Mama, I’m so scared,” Lorde sings, lust having mutated into something shameful and aching. The song’s cavernous electronics, which slowly tease each masterful deployment of the Daps sample, are a seductive whirlpool drawing us right to the edge. Mason
25. Tame Impala, “End of Summer”
With its memorable, unhurried synth progression—the track clocks in at over seven lingering minutes—Tame Impala’s “End of Summer” comes close to the ecstatic highs of 2015’s Currents. The longing and the procrastinatory habits singer and multi-instrumentalist Kevin Parker describes—“I waited ‘til the end of summer and I ran out of time”—are reflected in the sense of indefiniteness conjured by the soundscape as mechanical drums knock away. Lyons-Burt
24. Caroline, “Coldplay Cover”
There’s a jarring moment halfway through Caroline’s Caroline 2 where the boundaries of what a song is and what it’s supposed to do start to dissolve. The misleadingly titled “Coldplay Cover” begins with half of the London eight piece playing in a living room and then, midway through, the engineer picks up the mic and walks into the kitchen, where the other half begins to play. Footsteps creak, distant voices blur, and what began as one song thrillingly fractures into two happening at once, mind-bendingly bleeding into one another. Seip
23. Alex G, “June Guitar”
For years, Alex G has been contorting his sound into strange shapes, but the heartwarming “June Guitar” cuts through with an almost startling clarity. The track doesn’t need his usual aural tricks or wacky vocal distortion to knock listeners flat—just an accordion that wheezes like it’s carrying years of dissolution in its lungs, each labored breath widening until the song breaks wide open. Kohner
22. The Beths, “Straight Line Was a Lie”
Why bother with just one chorus when you can have three? “Straight Line Was a Lie” is Elizabeth Stokes’s latest power-pop masterpiece—a kinetic torrent of blissful melodies riding a wave of fuzzy guitars. Even though it’s a song about falling prey to the same patterns over and over again, the hooks are so intoxicating that one can’t help but wish that the band would bang through them just a few more times. Winograd
21. Blood Orange, “The Field”
The bones of Blood Orange’s “The Field” may be built from the Durutti Column’s “Sing to Me,” but the result is a complete reinvention. Bathed in reverb and restraint, this fragile song has no true lead vocal, but rather a constellation of singers working together in a masterclass of restraint. Seip
20. Miley Cyrus featuring Brittany Howard, “Walk of Fame”
The six-minute “Walk of Fame,” which features a blistering backing vocal from Alabama Shakes’s Brittany Howard that nods to Bronski Beat’s “Smalltown Boy,” marries the operatic bluster of Lady Gaga’s Born This Way with the disco splendor of Donna Summer’s Bad Girls. The song conjures neon-tinged snapshots of a ’70s-era Sunset Strip so vivid that even the musical film that accompanies Something Beautiful can’t live up to them. Cinquemani
19. Big Thief featuring Laraaji, “Grandmother”
Few songs sit so calmly with the vastness of being as Big Thief’s “Grandmother.” Over delicate acoustics and looping samples, the band creates a wide-open space where big questions can land gently. The track feels infinite and unhurried, unfolding like someone thinking out loud about a life that refuses to make sense, sitting right on the edge between bittersweet reflection and hopeful acceptance. “Gonna turn it all into rock and roll,” Adrianne Lenker sings. What else can you do with feelings that big? Seip
18. Jane Remover, “Dreamflasher”
Jane Remover’s Revengeseekerz is laden with sudden sonic pivots, but “Dreamflasher” is particularly agile. From trappy rage rap to shriek-riddled noise music, the song is always imploding on itself, like a looped YouTube video of some poor soul crashing through drywall. Somehow, across all the electronic pyrotechnics and busy wave space crammed with sounds, it stills seethes with emotion: the overstimulation of being young, horny, intoxicated, micro-famous, and not broke. Lyons-Burt
17. Dijon, “Yamaha”
Simultaneously alien in its production and comfortingly familiar in its melodic construction, Dijon’s “Yamaha” moves with a clarity that, to its credit, the rest of Baby refuses to indulge. It’s as if Dijon momentarily brushes away the album’s ecstatic unruliness to uncover the bones of a beautiful lost ’80s slow jam. “I’m in love with this particular emotion,” Dijon sings. And so are we. Seip
16. Justin Bieber, “Yukon”
Justin Bieber’s “Yukon” seems to sway gently in the breeze, set only to sparingly strummed guitar. In a choice that rubs fascinatingly against the would-be naturalism of the music, the singer’s voice is pitched way up while his less altered vocals can only be heard in the background and on the second chorus. This sly modulation is one of several reasons that “Yukon” is more than its modest first blush. Lyons-Burt
15. Ethel Cain, “Fuck Me Eyes”
Ethel Cain’s “Fuck Me Eyes” stands out among Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You’s slow-burning, more heavily atmospheric compositions. A sweeping six-and-a-half minutes of unsparing observations about a young woman who likes to “show off her ass,” the song isn’t exactly Top 40 fodder, but its pulsing synths, preponderance of f-bombs, and lyrics that blur the lines between hate and envy make it feel like Kim Carnes’s “Bette Davis Eyes” by way of Taylor Swift’s “You Belong with Me.” Winograd
14. Rosalía, “Reliquia”
Over stately strings that give way to an electronic breakdown, Rosalía projects a heavenly tranquility as she lists the sacrifices she’s made for art and love. She sings, “Mi corazón nunca ha sido mío/Yo siempre lo doy” (“My heart never has been mine/I always give it”) casting herself not just as an artist or celebrity, but as a vessel for her divine inspiration. Mason
13. Chappell Roan, “The Subway”
A midtempo dream-pop ballad—replete with crisp, teary-eyed guitars—that finds Chappell Roan achingly pining for the one that got away, “The Subway” was almost the hit that got away. The singer was reportedly hesitant to record a studio version for fear that she wouldn’t be able to replicate her live vocal performance, but those concerns are largely assuaged, especially during the track’s cathartic outro: “She’s got, she’s got a way/She got, she got away,” Roan declares, the lilting crack in her voice recalling that of Cocteau Twins’s Elizabeth Fraser. Cinquemani
12. FKA twigs, “Striptease”
On “Striptease,” FKA twigs—a gifted dancer—sings in an almost shockingly mush-mouthed cadence about her “arched spine…eyes [and] sternum stretched wide.” The way her vocals soar and drag against the track’s closing twitchy breakbeats recall her closest peer in R&B-electronic fusion: Kelela, someone also interested in the relationship between beats and body. Lyons-Burt
11. PinkPantheress, “Illegal”
The two-and-a-half-minute “Illegal” plays like a glorified intro for PinkPantheress’s mixtape Fancy That. Kicking off with a familiar 2-step rhythm and a sample of the sleek synth pads from Underworld’s iconic “Dark & Long (Dark Train)” before building to a 4/4 beat for a succinct but sublime 30 seconds, the track serves as a delicious primer for what follows. Cinquemani
10. Baalti, “Loose Leaf”
Like M.I.A.’s early work, Baalti’s endorphin-boosting “Loose Leaf” synthesizes South Asian sounds with Western dance and pop styles to make euphoric, unruly bamboo bangas. Reportedly tipping their cap to rural Indian soundsystem raves, the duo deploys a whirling, curving synth between each drum clatter that both accelerates and disrupts the groove. The song takes you down a number of detours to get your legs moving without forfeiting an ounce of vitality. Lyons-Burt
9. Annahstasia, “Believer”
Annahstasia’s “Believer” is a slow-burning storm. Across the track’s six-minute runtime, the singer’s voice runs the spectrum from whispering to wailing, as guitars flare and pianos float around her. On the chorus, she drops the question driving the song’s tension: “Maybe where I go, I can’t take you all the way/Does that mean I’m only loyal if we stay the same?” It’s the panic of wanting to grow but fearing what it might break. Seip
8. Playboi Carti, “Like Weezy”
With “Like Weezy,” Playboi Carti pulls off the rap trick of constructing a track’s architecture against, on top of, and in relation to a number of cultural precedents, with the song still emerging as its own unique creation. In this case, producers Ojivolta and Kelvin Krash sample Rich Kidz’s “Bend Over,” and Carti’s single manic verse and two choruses nod to the riotous unholy trinity of Lil Wayne, Justin Bieber, and 2Pac. Tonally and temperamentally, it’s one of the sweeter and poppier tracks on Music, but at its core, the track proves that Carti is just as debauched and unhinged as ever. Lyons-Burt
7. Addison Rae, “Fame Is a Gun”
On “Fame Is a Gun,” TikToker turned pop prodigy Addison Rae infuses her flirtatious and self-aware lyrics with flashes of poeticism: “Do I provoke you with my tone of innocence?” Feathery lines about the glamor of fame flutter up against more visceral imagery—“Crash and burn, girl, baby, swallow it dry”—as Rae stands defiantly at the center of a storm of public scrutiny. Like fame itself, the song is as enticing as it is foreboding. Mason
6. Caroline featuring Caroline Polachek, “Tell Me I Never Knew That”
Caroline’s lyrics have a sense of fluidity, often taking on a mantra-like quality—repeated, reshaped, and recontextualized until their meaning begins to shift. On “Tell Me I Never Knew That,” featuring Caroline Polachek, the chant “It always has been, it always will be” subtly mutates into “It always happens,” then “This always happens,” and finally back to “It always will be.” By then, it doesn’t mean what it did before. The words have turned bitter—or maybe they’re actually hopeful? The track’s use of Auto-Tune only heightens the disorientation, warping voices until their intent becomes a moving target. Seip
5. Wednesday, “Elderberry Wine”
Abetted by Xandy Chelmis’s honey-sweet pedal steel, the breezy “Elderberry Wine” exudes such pleasant vibes that it’s easy to miss that it’s actually a bittersweet breakup song. “Said, ‘I wanna have your baby’/’Cause I freckle and you tan,” Karly Hartzman sings with none of her usual acerbity. It may sound romantic, but sometimes the differences that draw us together can eventually prove too much to overcome. Winograd
4. HAIM, “Relationships”
This is hardly the first time the Haim sisters have written a song about being sick to death of “fuckin’ relationships.” But while the vocals and lyrics may scan as weary or worn out, the answer to their woes, delivered over the fattest ass-shaking funk groove of their careers, becomes clear: Leave those guys in the dust and just dance. Winograd
3. Perfume Genius, “It’s a Mirror”
Mike Hadreas has, in recent years, displayed a penchant for the baroque, and his lush and eclectic songs have conveyed a romantic grandiosity. When “It’s a Mirror” kicks off with acoustic guitar, it’s not just a deft stylistic heel turn, but a shift from extravagance to a grungy groundedness befitting the song’s claustrophobic lyrics. “It’s a siren, muffled crying/Breaking me down soft and slow,” Hadreas sings of life outside his front door, finding both comfort and torture in existing as a recluse. Mason
2. Model/Actriz, “Cinderella”
Model/Actriz puts some sleaze in dance-punk, and their “Cinderella” seems to draw on a dark energy. “I can see how my power/Only was my fear of betrayal,” Cole Haden whisper-howls, admitting that “When I was five I remember clearly/My want to have a Cinderella birthday party.” He spends most of the song marveling at the gentleness and elegance of his object of affection, like he’s on the other side of the glass. Lyons-Burt
1. PinkPantheress, “Tonight”
In an odd twist of fate, the stickiest and steamiest hook of the year—“You want sex with me? Uh-huh/Come talk to me, come on”—wasn’t written by Sabrina Carpenter, but by a former TikToker. Zipping between giddy excitement and quiet panic, with the ever-posh PinkPantheress coquettishly verbalizing every impish impulse darting through her head, the supercharged “Tonight” is a glittering surge of heart-flip anxiety that hits like a spike of adrenaline. Great pop records can leave you breathless. This one rewires your entire nervous system. Attard
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