See The FADER's top 50 albums of 2024.
There is a great run of four songs in the middle of this list. It comprises a blissful track from Japanese experimentalist Hakushi Hasegawa, a burst of blown-out fury from OsamaSon, a breathtaking seven-minute Urdu-Hindi epic by Sheherazaad, and an inescapable pop smash from Sabrina Carpenter. It's a neat encapsulation of this publication's genre-blurring ethos, an idea established a quarter of a century ago and carried forward today by the sharpest group of music journalists out there. This list, like everything we’ve run this year, whiplashes between sounds and ideas and languages. It is chaotic, and we hope you love that as much as we do. — Alex Robert Ross
50. Nourished By Time, “Hand On Me”
Erotic Probiotic 2, Marcus Brown’s 2023 debut as Nourished By Time, expertly blended so many sounds — R&B, deep house, new wave, neo-soul, funk, post-punk, Baltimore club music — that it felt less like a lockdown project than a long-buried masterpiece from some reclusive auteur. “Hand On Me,” from his follow-up EP Catching Chickens, breathes the same rarified air. It’s a crying-in-the-club combination of early hip-hop beats, stringy synths, and cascading vocals punctuated occasionally by gunshot-like cracks and falsetto flourishes. It makes no sense on paper, but Brown's music never does. — ARR
49. ANOHNI, “Breaking”
No one turns world crises into beautiful music like ANOHNI. On “Breaking,” she sings about the degradation of our natural world, acknowledging her complicity even as she documents her suffering. But it’s all rendered so sweetly, backed by soft guitar and clarinet, with ANOHNI’s voice as soothing as ever. On the chorus — “It’s really something to be breaking” — the pain that flows quietly through the rest of the song spills forth only to be swept away with the beginning of each new verse, like the gardens, the willow forests, and the white deer swiftly disappearing from the surface of the earth. — Raphael Helfand
48. Tems, “Love Me JeJe”
Originating from a freestyle session with friends, “Love Me Jeje” courses with tender desire. Interpolating Seyi Sodimu’s 1997 single of the same name, Tems builds on the familiarity of the old favorite to craft a romantic fantasia while playfully switching between a sung-rap flow and thrilling call-and-response schemes. The reference to Sodimu helped garner a multi-generational audience for the track, Tems’ careful reworking of the source material paying homage to the past while imagining a bold new future. It is a conscious embrace of light-heartedness and joy. — Wale Oloworekende
47. Tyla, “Jump”
Much of Tyla’s self-titled album is built around the supreme confidence that the singer has in herself, but the scope of that self-belief is rarely on display as clearly as it is on the sticky-sweet “Jump.” Here she's in her element, abandoning the obfuscated allusions of 2023’s “Water” for a more pointed delivery. Over smoky drums, she sings about being appreciated across the world while Gunna contributes a verse about doing anything to please her. It’s a deft meld of styles and cultures that finds Tyla at her best and most confident. — WO
46. Oklou, “family and friends”
Who is the real Oklou? A doe-eyed cousin of Thumper the rabbit from Bambi, or the immense, all-knowing godhead who rules over Marylou Mayniel’s meticulous electro-pop compositions like little bubble universes? On “family and friends,” the oblique, often religious imagery of 2020’s sleeper-hit "Galore" remains, but more confessional details have started to creep in alongside her Eurodance synth melodies and almost pagan percussion. In presenting what seem to be cutting words from a scorned lover — "’Are you frozen? Are you even human? Are you even real?’" — Oklou gives up some infallibility, but brings us that much closer to her. — Walden Green
45. ILLIT, “Magnetic”
The five members of ILLIT are sick with a crush on “Magnetic,” a perfectly engineered pop song that bubbles like a just-shaken soda can. Millions of odes have been written on this topic but none are as cute as this one with its “Oh! My! Gosh, You’re my crush!” exclamations, swift Jersey club beat, and seriously addictive “yu-yu-yu-yu-yu-yu” hook. The rookie K-pop girl group have released a handful of songs since this one, but for now it's still their brilliant peak. — Steffanee Wang
44. Molly Nilsson, “The Communist Party”
In an alternate universe, “The Communist Party” — Molly Nilsson's communism-themed update of Madonna's "Vogue" — came before Madge's track, and the world became a better place. The writings of Marx and Engels became gospel for the young, gay fashion crowd, before trickling down into the mainstream and changing everyone's lives for the better. Perhaps best of all, Nilsson became a star. That's an alternate universe, though. All we have is this one — and here, we thank God we have her at all. — Shaad D’Souza
43. Young Jesus, “Brenda & Diane”
John Rossiter had decided to quit music after 2022’s Shepherd Head. He went off to study permaculture, as far away from the false glow of his computer as possible. Less than two years later, on the opening song from Young Jesus’ seventh album, The Fool, it’s clear that whatever fatigue Rossiter felt was overwhelmed by the fire in his stomach. “Brenda & Diane” is a glorious piece of heartland rock, empathetic and proud-chested. Rossiter augments his voice, finding an incandescent melodrama at the back of his throat. It’s the perfect vehicle for the short story he tells, and a testament to the healing power of the soil. — ARR
42. YT feat. Lancey Foux, “Black & Tan”
This year’s undisputed global anthem of the nu-jerk movement came from across the ocean with a searingly cool collaboration from London artists YT and Lancey Foux. It's a feverish trading of Auto-Tuned bars with the pitch of two excited longtime friends at a much-anticipated reunion, as the beat rumbles like a Lear jet mid-turbulence. If flexing had a tag team world championship, YT and Lancey’s song would have earned the belt, its hilarious detail and seamless creative rhythms unrivaled in 2024 rap link-ups. — Jordan Darville
41. Porter Robinson, “Knock Yourself Out XD”
At what point does intense self-searching start to feel just like navelgazing? This seems to be one of the questions that Porter Robinson has been turning over in the wake of his 2021 album Nurture, which featured a number of sober meditations on life and the meaning of art, and whether it was even worth continuing to make music in a confusing world. (The answer he ultimately came to, of course, was a celebratory yes.) But how does one follow that? By poking fun at the very idea of such an enterprise. Lighthearted and prankish, Robinson’s third studio album Smile! :D is full of joyous abandon and first-thought-best-thought ethos that forced him not to take himself, or anything, so damn seriously. “Knock Yourself Out XD,” is perhaps the most direct about this changing disposition, delineating a number of grievances he has with the pressures of fame and the complicated pleasures of success, all while undercutting the idea that such things are worth writing a song about to begin with. Full of joyous confetti blasts of synth programming and an overall production aesthetic that feels like getting locked in a Zumiez overnight, it’s gleefully absurd and silly — almost as silly as the idea that touring around the world and playing songs as a job would be worth complaining about. He makes his stance clear on one of the record’s most memorably strange lines, “Bitch, I’m Taylor Swift!” simultaneously celebrating and mocking the unique position he’s in as a person making art that people care about. — Colin Joyce
40. Baby Osama feat. Vontee The Singer, “You A Stepper”
“You A Stepper” is a Tony Bennett duet for the sexy drill set, crafted for genuine romantics who aren’t above the occasional sticky situationship. Baby Osama and Vontee the Singer fold acrobatic vocal runs into a syrupy soulful molten core, softhearted enough to make sleeping with your ex seem wholesome (ish). — Vivian Medithi
39. Hakushi Hasegawa, “Boy’s Texture”
A master of contorting electronic music into disorienting and ravishing new forms, Hakushi Hasegawa creates music that’s a seven-fingered open-palm slap to some dimension of sensation you didn’t know existed. “Boy’s Texture” dials down the velocity ever so slightly, giving way to a new vulnerability within the frenzy. — JD
38. OsamaSon, “ik what you did last summer”
At his excessive best, OsamaSon distills the perpetual onslaught of modern life into hyperactive joy. “ik what you did last summer” is accordingly exuberant and accelerated, rifling through images just as quickly as the South Carolina rapper blows through fresh direct deposits. If the old world is dying and the new world struggles to be born, can we at least have some fun and look fly doing it? — VM
37. Sheherazaad, “Lehja”
Translated from Hindi and Urdu, Sheherazaad means “free city”; “Lehja,” the concluding track on her Arooj Aftab-produced Qasr EP, traces the heartbeat beneath this mythical place’s winding streets. For its seven minutes, “Lehja” is a subversion — of our linear notions of narrative, personifying a city as a singular repressed entity — and of the Hindustani classical music Sheherazaad studied. Listen closely and you’ll hear the steady rhythm of breathing, life itself moving with the song’s gentle currents. — JD
36. Sabrina Carpenter, “Please Please Please”
After years of living through a key change deficit, Sabrina Carpenter has single-handedly restored the candy-crazed pop economy. The first and second verses of “Please Please Please” are in two completely different keys, immediately shaking away any sense of complacency with a subtle disorientating trick that makes our ears twitch. She’s the popstar with the most élan today, never letting her songs fall into idleness and, with her knack for both genre reverence and expansion, never allowing her listener to take pop music for granted. — EM
35. NewJeans, “How Sweet”
Even NewJeans couldn’t recreate the absolute colossal phenomenon that was 2023’s “Super Shy” but they gave it their best shot with “How Sweet,” their entry for song of the summer. And their best is still great. They play in the retro-tinted neon glow of pulsing electroclash and Miami bass, singing about how great single life is. It continues to be Hanni, Danielle, Minji, Haerin, and Hyein’s dewy-eyed dispositions that give NewJeans’ music its spark, and it’s clear that the formula continues to work over any sonic palette. — SW
34. Megan Thee Stallion, “Mamushi"”
First, thank you, Megan Thee Stallion, for introducing the west to the Japanese heartthrob that is Yuki Chiba. His inclusion on “Mamushi” was a gamble, but that’s partly what makes the success of the song so refreshing. For Megan, who independently released not one but two blockbuster albums this year, 2024 was serious business: a reminder to the music world of her relentless pen, ability to carve disses like no one else, and desire to come out on top even when facing cabals of women-hating trolls. So “Mamushi” earning the internet’s gold star shows what she can achieve when she simply leans into her personality and sillier bar-writing, things that translate even when they’re in a different language. — SW
33. Pa Salieu, “Belly”
Fresh out of prison, Coventry’s Pa Salieu wasted no time reclaiming his place as U.K. Rap’s most inventive stylist with comeback single “Belly.” Over a lush Afrobeats riddim full of swung drums and digital flourishes, Salieu alternates between defiant raps and a silky sung hook where he waxes on how thankful he is for escaping the trap. That “Belly” is so plainly self-reflexive — a song about Salieu feeding his family after years of not being able to — only makes the track’s pop appeal more engaging, ensuring Belly stands head and shoulders above the average “first day out” effort. — Son Raw
32. Kiss Facility, “Plasma”
With 2023’s Esoteric EP, Mayah Alkhateri and Salvador Navarrete (a.k.a. Sega Bodega) gave dream pop new life; each of its five songs, built around vocal melodies pulled from Alkhateri’s Arabic heritage, sounded like something you’d hear on college radio in The Fifth Element. “Plasma,” their first single released this year, is lovesick club-pop. Its production approaches the dancefloor with a composer’s brain and a populist heart, while Alkhateri casts her voice across like silken veils falling from a great height. — JD
31. whait, “calm down”
Hearing more eaze and Wendy Eisenberg’s debut song as a duo is like listening in on a hushed conversation between two of the most inventive voices in Brooklyn’s expansive experimental music scene. Here, their mutual adoration for ambient noise is lovingly relegated to a deeply textured backdrop in service of a perfect pop song. Above watery drums, interweaving acoustic and pedal steel guitars, and a barely present bass — all engineered to make you follow the track’s titular command — Eisenberg spins a web of bedtime fairytales, stories within stories within stories. — RH
30. Fcukers, “Bon Bon”
What is a “Bon Bon?” Who knows! When I listen to this song by the New Yorker electronic dance upstarts Fcukers, my inner dialogue turns into an infinite loop of its music video, as peaceful and pleasurable as watching subway surfers or kinetic sand get cut. — SW
29. Realyungphil feat. MIKE, “No Amends”
RealYungPhil isn’t exactly a “forgive and forget” type of guy. Trading verses over a crystalline WTFOMARI! beat, Phil perfectly embodies detached contempt before MIKE glides through a potentially scene-stealing 16, grinning all the while. Still, the highlight is RealYungPhil’s dense, derisive verse, so nice he spits it twice: “I can see through these n***as like a lens / Fool me once, you won't do it again.” — VM
28. Quiet Light, “Used To Be Your Angel”
Stare closely enough into your tear-stained pillow and patterns emerge. The islands of damp form a map, not of a way out of your heartbreak, but of the despairing new context that’s come to define your life. Riya Mahesh’s Quiet Light project thrives on reconfiguration — in the case of “Used To Be Your Angel,” piercing poetry with the grace of Joni Mitchell is beamed through the prism of Arthur Russell’s avant-garde sound systems. The song traces the contours of young heartbreak with the tenderness and rumination of receiving a “just saying hey” text, right when you needed it the least. — JD
27. Fatboi Sharif & Roper Williams, “Something About Shirley”
“Something About Shirley” is difficult to define. Nominally part of the canon of art about damsels in distress, it’s neither Cassavettes’ A Woman Under the Influence nor Almodovar’s Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, though there’s something of each in the mix. As Fatboi Sharif unwinds rhymes referencing Bob Dylan, Heaven’s Gate, and Sun Ra opening for Satan at Bowery Ballroom, Roper Williams weaves even denser beats, shifting between stark backing beats and pure noise when the flow stops. It’s never entirely clear what it is about its titular character that makes her worthy of such an ambitious tribute, but the mystery is enough. — RH
26. Chanel Beads, “Idea June”
For better or worse, 2024 was the year we started taking the Dimes Square thing seriously. We got Honor Levy’s My First Book, Charli XCX singing about Dasha Nekrasova, and Ivy Wolk in Anora — each with their own attendant (and exhausting) discourse mills. But it would be a shame to let Chanel Beads get lost in the noise, especially the heart-rendingly gorgeous “Idea June,” a string-and-guitar ballad that channels the impossibility of perfect communication — in music or in love — by sounding as though transmitted across a frosty pane of glass. Be sure to listen to the extended and more essential music video cut, as opposed to the version on streaming services. — Walden Green
25. DJ Dayeh & MC Bibi Drak, “As Mais Top”
In baile funk, the producer is king. “As Mais Top” is unique in highlighting the relationship between DJ Dayeh and MC Bibi Drak on its sing-songy chorus, and it’s clear how electric their chemistry is as Drak bobs and weaves through Daye’s maze of vocalized kick-snares, pounding bass, whistles, and haunted laughter. A standout from an excellent NTS compilation highlighting the feverish sounds of São Paulo mandelão, it feels predestined to cause pandemonium on the dance floor wherever it’s played. — RH
24. Chappell Roan, “Good Luck, Babe”
“Good Luck Babe,” arguably Chappell Roan’s breakout hit, trades bombastic maximalism for synthy baroque pop to tell the tale of a former lover who is imprisoned by her choice to participate in compulsory heterosexuality. Calling her no more than “his wife,” Roan chides her ex-flame of being in denial of her true feelings for not only Chappell, but her queerness: “You can say it's just the way you are / Make a new excuse, another stupid reason,” she sings with biting scorn and elegant derision. “Good Luck, Babe,” is much bigger than a catchy phrase. It's a cautionary tale of regret, loss, and disaffection. — CS
23. Clairo, “Sexy To Someone”
Power and success are desirable, sure, but Clairo nailed it this year when she acknowledged that most people would settle for knowing that somebody thinks they’re hot. “Sexy to someone is all I really want,” she sings over a dusty vintage organ, “I need a reason to get out of the house.” Think of it as a PSA to get out from under the bed sheets, put down the phone, and see who is waiting for you on the other side. — DR
22. Dehd, “Mood Ring”
Emily Kempf’s voice is an instrument all on its own, an extraordinary tool the Dehd lead singer uses fluidly and strikingly to add even more life and texture to her band’s music. Dehd thrive on the intricacies of contradicting instrumentals, harmonies, and counter-melodies. And “Mood Ring,” a sultry, seductive cut from the Chicago trio’s latest album Poetry, is all melodic vocal interplay between her and bandmate Jason Balla, pulsating bass, and sparse guitars; it’s an obscenely catchy declaration of love about the very act of love itself. — CS
21. Jade, “Angel Of My Dreams”
“Angel Of My Dreams” blends ‘60s Eurovision, ‘90s Clubland Classix, power ballad vocals, and Drag Race rapping to convey dismay at working in an industry that turns passion into a product. The first solo release from the Little Mix member, the track takes on the pop machine while establishing her own voice. It’s a stunning coming-out party filled with all of the joy and rage that comes with the freedom of no longer being told what to do. — DR
20. Post Malone and Morgan Wallen, “I Had Some Help”
“I Had Some Help” means business from its first few seconds. It sounds incredibly similar to Tom Petty’s “Learning To Fly” and The Chicks’ “Taking The Long Way” — by my estimation, two of the greatest, purest anthems of all time. Post Malone and Morgan Wallen add a whole lot of dirtbag haze to the proceedings, but that only adds to this song’s charm: it presents an inversion of the classic striver anthem, suggesting that a slide back into disgrace can be as euphoric as a journey out of it. “I Had Some Help” may have overpromised when it came to Posty’s country era — nothing on F-1 Trillion even came close — but god, what joy this one moment brings. — SD
19. Maxo Kream, “Bang The Bus”
This one’s all about contrast. There’s a heavenly cloud of skittering hi-hats and Clams Casino-esque haze suspended above cavernous bass from producer of the year evilgiane, and some of Maxo’s smuttiest bars pitched against a swooning, deeply emotive Imogen Heap sample. On “Bang The Bus,” the Houston emcee floats along on a cloud, sending down perfect little non-sequiturs with a wide grin: “Doja pack, stash it in her pussy, call it Doja Cat.” Dreamy and horny rarely sound this good together. — WG
18. Sex Week, “Angel Blessings”
New York duo Sex Week introduced themselves this year with “Angel Blessings,” a dreamy riff on Nevermind-era Nirvana with added black metal howls. Richard Orofino and Pearl Dickson trade verses, going back and forth with the question “Will you always be forever?” As the guitars wind tighter and the ghostly vocals whip at the door, it becomes less about commitment and more a cry for safety. — DR
17. This is Lorelei, “I'm All Fucked Up”
There are so many words in This Is Lorelei’s “I’m All Fucked Up” that its lyrics almost read like an Amy Sherman-Palladino script, or narrative prose, or some essay-sized limerick. Nate Amos’s songwriting is twisting, winding, rhythmic and visual as he addresses his younger self; he reflects upon struggling with substance abuse, and recovering from it, in a series of vignettes that recount varying misadventures and woes. It’s a beautiful kind of chaos, with buoyant, bouncy guitars and shimmering vocals. And when he sings: “You little sick thing, you had your fun / You cut the line, baby there's no more tears,” it sounds like a nursery rhyme. — CS
16. Tinashe, “Nasty”
Tinashe really deserved a miniscule trademark fee anytime anyone said “I’ve been a nasty girl” this year. In “Nasty”, the former major label pop hopeful turned left-field indie artist released one of the weirdest hits of 2024, with its muted, slinky beat, roboticized hook, and flagrant one-liners. It’s indicative of the direction in which she’s taken her artistry since she went independent: pop that sometimes goes freaky and off-center, but which is always reined back in by her razor-sharp sense of melody. — SW
15. Trace Mountains, “In A Dream”
Dave Benton explores what it means to aspire to something greater — either a concrete escape plan or simply comforting pipe dreams — as he pedals through the "humid velvet” of a nighttime bike ride. “In A Dream” unspools over seven minutes as Benton folds waves of synth and guitar in on each other as the Tom Petty-esque song gathers pace. Ambition and delusion might be more connected than you like to think but “In A Dream” makes anything seem possible. — DR
14. Bladee feat. Sickboyrari, “Otherside”
“Otherside” is three micro-songs in one. The first minute details a paranoid, sleepless night off the Norwegian hash and ends in a six-bar run in which Bladee’s voice gradually pitches up as he mockingly promises to “put your friends on the list.” On part two, his high evened out, he moves through a nocturnal cityscape with ice-cold confidence: “Alligator shoes, everything reptile / Only I can talk about the night, it’s mine.” This section ends with a bridge of sorts, in which he admits that everything is, in fact, not OK. “It’s bad / Even on a paradise island / I’m in hell in my mind,” he raps, his voice rising again for emphasis. The bit that cements “Otherside” as the standout cut on the 33-track top-to-bottom classic Cold Visions, though, is its finale, in which Sickboyrari bursts in like a barred-out juggernaut, slurring his words as he raps about “throwin’ up fours, yellin’ ‘Shalom’” and locking in with his “clone” Bladee to “sing like some crows.” “It get real glarious,” he comments as the beat fizzles, but the fun doesn’t have to end there. If you put this song on repeat (as I did while writing this review), F1lthy’s raucous beat smashes in so fluidly you barely register you’re back at square one. — RH
13. Burial, “Boy Sent From Above”
A rave epic of Homeric proportions, “Boy Sent From Above” finds Burial balancing a diverse array of club textures and deep emotionality in ways not seen since 2014’s revelatory Rival Dealer EP. “Boy Sent From Above” has many Burial trademarks — shadowy vocals offering a warm embrace, a dedication to London’s pirate radio past — but the 13-minute track is outlined with neon streaks of hi-NRG programming and Culture Beat-style raps. But despite the throwbacks, “Boy Sent From Above” exists far beyond traditional notions of nostalgia and revivalism: it’s rave music written in fire, enough to take the idea of “club as church” quite literally. — JD
12. Jane Remover, “Flash In The Pan”
Starcrossed love isn’t iambic pentameter and soliloquies, not anymore. It’s brainrot. It’s a healing playlist of shoegaze, ‘00s rap and R&B, and maybe even William Basinski dissolved in the acid bath that bubbles between your ear canal and brain. It’s “Flash In The Pan,” a chaotic and whip-smart pop song illuminated by the iPhone camera flashes of underground fame, dazzling and intrusive. — JD
11. Kali Uchis feat. Peso Pluma, “Igual Que Un Ángel”
Peso Pluma has been flirting with pop music over the last few years, but the música Mexicana maverick never fully embraced it until he teamed with Kali Uchis on her coy, dreamy single "Igual Que Un Ángel." Much like she does on the rest of her Orquídeas LP, the Colombian-American star seamlessly switches between singing in Spanish and English, detailing the angelic beauty of a new love. Shifting gears from his signature raspy voice and matching Uchis's sultriness, Peso Pluma brings an unexpected dreaminess too. — LV
10. RADA, “Payme”
American EDM-mania traces back to Skrillex importing British dubstep stateside at the start of the 2010s; that’s why “payme” sounds so insistently familiar, like a less romantically inclined cousin of “We Found Love” popping across the pond for a visit. London-based “Swag&B” singer RADA says she made the song to get people dancing and get booked for more shows: check and check. Given that RADA and right-hand producer endeavour put the track together in a quick session (“I literally told him to make a vogue type beat”) and it promptly went lite-viral on social media, you might read the song’s sticky central chorus -- if you want that new shit, you better pay me for it -- as a product of perfect cosmic alignment rather than an ornery business proposition, more likely to inspire credit card swipes than bank balance checks. Lasting success in the contemporary rave requires more than the warm flush of Tumblr nostalgia or the buzzy headrush of new artist novelty; “payme” understands that and delivers, pulling on threads from the past and the present to embroider RADA’s name on the moment. — VM
9. Kendrick Lamar, “Not Like Us”
It was closer than you remember. Prior to “Not Like Us,” the Kendrick-Drake beef was at a near stalemate, with Drizzy delivering eye-roll inducing jabs about Lamar’s height and Kendrick dropping a frankly weird audio open letter to Drake’s family. This made “Not Like Us” hit even harder, a fourth-round knockout that ended the battle as suddenly as it started. Over a thunderous, Mustard-produced West Coast bop, complete with an arena-ready organ riff, Kendrick unleashed Hell on Earth, calling Drake a pedophile, a colonizer, a ball boy, and a 69 God, to the delight of a silent majority of listeners who’d had it up to their necks with Toronto’s top export. Was it all factual? Of course not, but “Not Like Us” was the perfect diss track for our post-truth era because it felt right, capturing the zeitgeist of a generation sick of phony industry hedge-betting and crossover compromise. An inescapable part of NBA games, neighborhood cookouts and online discourse all summer long, “Not Like Us” wasn’t just the highest-profile diss record in hip-hop history. It was a character assassination so brutal that Drake himself sounded spent on his since-forgotten retort. — SR
8. MJ Lenderman, “She's Leaving You”
Manning Fireworks, MJ Lenderman’s second studio album as a solo artist, is full of jerks and fuck-ups. His well-worn, plaid-shirted slacker-country splits Malkmus and Neil Young — a perfectly detached soundtrack to this cast of losers getting their comeuppance or digging themselves deeper into ignominy. “She’s Leaving You,” the album’s lead single, distills much of what makes the album such a success: the easy familiarity of his guitar, the conversational near-mumble of his voice, a big chorus that won’t leave your head for days. And, of course, there’s a jerk at the center of it, this one in the midst of a pathetic mid-life crisis (“No time to apologize for the things you do / Go rent a Ferrari and sing the blues / Believe that Clapton was the second coming”). But the real sing-along is the refrain — ”It falls apart / We all got work to do / It gets dark / We all got work to do” — which lifts the song out of the depths of scorn, past simple pity, and into an affecting melancholy. Sung over and over again, it sounds as much like an urgent note to self as a sudden burst of empathy. — ARR
7. Mk.gee, “Are You Looking Up”
Mk.gee’s debut studio album Two Star & the Dream Police has earned him the somewhat cursed designation from the New York Times of “guitar god,” as well as famous six-string nerd fans like Eric Clapton and John Mayer. But tracks like the unflashy, unpretentious, unrepentantly sentimental “Are You Looking Up” show that there’s so much more to him than the technical fireworks such associations imply. With a gentle wheeze and a delicate emotionality, he sings of romantic desperation and existential confusion with a world-weary wisdom far beyond his years. And yes, the labyrinthine twang of his guitar work is deceptively complex, but it’s never shredding for its own sake — like the best Neil Young leads, his playing is lyrical and intimate, braided intimately into the fabric of a song that’s rich with emotional realizations that already feel timeless. — CJ
6. Xavi, “La Diabla”
At only 20 years old, Xavi already sounds like he’s been making corridos for decades. The rising Mexican-American star’s haunting vocals make his corridos cut deep, like in the fiery "La Diabla." Xavi draws on the romance inherent to the genre to sing about his lust for a devilish girl that's driving him wild. While his música Mexicana peers are largely pulling from hip-hop references and culture in their swaggering songs, there's a timeless charm in "La Diabla" that's reminiscent of late Mexican legends like Chalino Sánchez and Ariel Camacho. Throughout his debut album Next, he demonstrates a knack for crafting alluring tracks that are embedded with passionate emotions. On “La Diabla” he sounds ready to risk it all, and in the process, he’s helping breath new life into corridos. — LV
5. charli xcx, lorde, “girl so confusing [lorde remix]”
One of the biggest myths that’s been sold about growing up and getting older is that life, with time, will eventually start to make sense. Well, I’m sorry to report that I turned 29 years old this year, and I’m still waiting for the arrival of some big revelation. If anything, life has grown more obscure and challenging. Friendships are hard; sending texts is even harder. Everything’s complicated and confusing. And for what, exactly?
This isn’t really what Charli xcx and Lorde’s internet-breaking “girl, so confusing” remix is about, but it’s also not not what it’s about. The two pop stars took the opportunity to hash out their apparently tension-fueled friendship over song for the entire world to see. Jaws were dropped. Effusive reviews were written. Tears were shed. And a new path for squashing beef was coined: Whatever happens, you can “work it out on the remix.” But what remains intriguing to me — and what’s stayed after my countless listens to the song — is the many seemingly incompatible truths it illuminates about our psyches. It’s about miscommunications and withheld communications. It’s about being scared to put yourself out there, and wanting to be seen. It’s about uplifting women and also feeling threatened by women. It’s about feeling lonely when you finally reach the top.
Many of the social media dissections of the song focus on the gendered aspect, and that’s important — so much of what it’s trying to communicate is about the agonizing dance women do in our heads when we enter any micro-interaction, especially with other women. But over the course of 2024, “girl, so confusing” has granted me a more universal lesson as I go about my days. That when you can finally catch the eye of that friend, or share a thought that makes you feel more understood, that’s one more puzzle piece clicking into place. Everything may still be confusing, but at least you’re no longer alone. — SW
4. Waxahatchee, “Right Back to It”
Here’s what my wife, who’s stuck with me through a good few emotional crises, has to say about this song: “‘Right Back To It’ is about a longstanding love, one in which each partner remains a constant amid change, like a river or a song with no end, someone who will catch the other no matter where they’re at in their journey of ups and downs, highs and lows, insanity and calm that comes with questioning one's life and self and relationships. It’s about continually choosing to love the same person every day no matter who they wake up as that morning. The narrator’s partner is a source of constancy and safety that allows for this roaming and mutability (“let my mind run wild”). They are stuck on them, like a fence, but the fence is just water and love.” Thanks for that, honey. Please never leave. — EM
3. NLE Choppa, “Slut Me Out 2”
The Fool represents new beginnings in tarot readings, breaking with tradition to tread uncharted paths. The second coming of NLE Choppa, prone to derisive accusations of falling off and "zestiness," seems to mark one such fresh start. It isn’t his first trip to pound town, but NLE’s wide-eyed enthusiasm for squirting, facesitting, breathplay, minor infidelity, and yes, Badussy™, does feel like a dramatic evolution. Where its predecessor “SLUT ME OUT” focused on pressing questions about contemporary male sexuality (is it gay to let a girl play with the gooch?) over minor-key synth lines, “SLUT ME OUT 2” is a touch more philosophical like, what would you do if you woke up on the sexy end of a body switch?
"SLUT ME OUT 2" isn’t quite a heel-turn for the Memphis rapper, whose zany streak has been apparent ever since the first "Shotta Flow." Its truly ridiculous hook seems optimized for making Cam’ron and Ma$e say pause, and its catwalk-ready beat, produced by EMRLD BEATS and Synthetic, has made this song a lightning rod for lingering masculine anxieties. But “SLUT ME OUT 2” is so polarizing because of NLE Choppa’s sheer earnestness, an antidote for our ironypilled times. In an era of thinly veiled come-ons and IDGAF competitions, openly declaring, “If I was a bad bitch [...] ‘Nun freaky that I wouldn’t do to me” bursts right past coy nonchalance to a sort of empathetic eroticism, so silly it can’t be anything but dead serious. — VM
2. Addison Rae, “Diet Pepsi“
Perhaps no entity on Earth had a better rebranding than Addison Rae in 2024. In the span of months, the TikTok star went from acting in C-tier romcoms to dancing with Charli xcx on the mainstage of Madison Square Garden. Credit the ascent to “Diet Pepsi,” her immaculate second single that showed the world what she could do with a razor-honed vision.
“Diet Pepsi” is Rae’s “Born to Die” in that it’s clear Lana Del Rey was a key photo on the mood board, but Rae also adds her own distinctive flair. Her voice sounds unpolished in a good way on the verses; she enunciates “cross gold chain” in such a way it sounds like “Costco chain” to me every time; she seductively exhales and ad-libs and whispers like someone who’s gotten over-excited in the booth. These qualities might read as amateurish but Rae turns them into her calling card, leaning into her own silliness in its music video that devolves into bloopers and silliness. She’s not a professional, but who could care when she’s having so much fun? It’s the opposite of “Obsessed,” her debut song that drowned in its efforts.
That’s not to say “Diet Pepsi” isn’t also intensively curated because it is with its Mel Ottenberg-devised creative direction, Swedish pop production, and Charli xcx coaching. But Rae’s personality wins out over this laundry list of industry names. For all its effort, “Diet Pepsi” feels real, camp, and effortless: the sign of a true pop star. — SW
1. Nick León & Erika de Casier, “Bikini“
Nick León seems to understand that escapism can be urgent. When the world is weighing you down, when your swirling thoughts spin into knots of anxiety, when the chaos of life feels like too much to bear, sometimes you just need a way out. On its face, León’s end-of-summer collaboration with Erika de Casier “Bikini” is a dreamy pop reverie—a dewy-eyed meditation on the dawning of new love wrapped in the imagery of a sunny day swimming back to the beach. But there’s a desperation at the track’s core. Caffeinated and jittery, the instrumental speeds along underneath de Casier’s breathy vocal , powered by refractions of ‘90s rave rhythms and dizzy synth programming that drips and oozes like a pile of broken glow sticks.
It’s deceptively chaotic and intense, fitting perhaps for a song about falling in love, an experience with no shortage of extreme feelings. But it’s especially appropriate for the circumstances of the track’s creation. After de Casier debuted a version of the track during her performance at June’s edition of Primavera Sound, León felt a pressure to get the song out before the end of summer. (“It was literally some Uncut Gems shit,” he said recently of the anxiety-inducing sprint to get it finished.) Some of that energy no doubt bleeds into the track, which barrels along for the course of its three-minute runtime—presenting a day at the beach and the beginning stages of a relationship as a high-energy sprint toward the nearest dancefloor. It’s a fitting disposition for a pop song in a year that has felt as chaotic and tumultuous as any. Who doesn’t want to get away, and fast? — CJ