THE TOP 100 SONG OF 2025 (PART FIVE)...

 

so, we get to the thrilling finale:

1.Berghain (Rosalia feat Bjork & Yves Tumor): 

feels like a surge of adrenaline — all urgent, frenzied strings and soaring operatic vocals, signaling a dark grandeur few were expecting. If that wasn’t striking enough, she keeps burying surprises into the labyrinthine arrangement, packing in a cameo from Bjork, vocals from Yves Tumor, and nods to the ever-nocturnal German nightclub the track gets its name from. The effect is intense — and breathtaking. (ROLLING STONE)

2. Sugar Water (Mckinley Dixon feat. Quelle Chris & Anjimie):

 ascending in its groove toward a verse driven by a hypnotic upright bassline as Dixon raises the specter of, well, raising specters: “Sun been getting its revenge, feel the heat you hear it buzzing/’How we raise him from the ground?’ type shit discussing with my cousins.” (TREBLE)

3. Anosognosia (Ariel Pink): 

super dynamic with lots of moving parts and very tasteful transitions between verses with the reliance on bouncy synth lines and a nice mix of live percussion and drum loops. (SPUTNIK MUSIC)

4. Bow Down (Geese): 

amidst the pounding drums and frenetic strums of "Bow Down," his character's grief-stricken sentiments again might just as easily incite a smirk or chin-stroking contemplation: "I was a sailor, and now I'm a boat/ I was a car, and now I'm the road." Like Bob Dylan after he left pure protest songs behind, Winter is scripting oblique sequences at an epic scale, blowing out his own anxieties into imagery that conveys the distress of the times. His lyrics may defy interpretation, but the images and sensations he conjures feel like products of a generation defined by upheaval, absurdity, and constant looming threat. (STEREGUM)

5. 1995 (Freddie Gibbs & The Alchemist): 

Gibbs has spent nearly a decade now leaning into the easy swagger of his confident cool since the drop of Freddie, his Teddy Pendergrass-visual referencing record. “1995” doesn’t skimp on fireworks, of course, both vocally as well as that gnarly diMeola-esque guitar line, but more than anything it exudes that smoky room, silk-sheet cool of classic soul-funk. The Alchemist, maybe our collective favorite modern producer, certainly understood the assignment, delivering a beat so sexy you can practically hear Barry White prepping to start singing at any minute. It’s the sound of two men in the midst of mutual career highs, fully aware of how good they are, and it’s glorious. (TREBLE)

6. All Mine (Doja Cat): 

though we were advised in advance of its 1980s’ influence, we all expected Doja to subvert quirky intricacies into Vie but here she pulls off something I was not sure she had in her repertoire: full submerging into the wrinkle of time she is exploring. “All Mine” is gorgeous sure but it’s 80s through and through and contemporary—and cool—without even trying.

7. P.O.V. (Clipse feat. Tyler, the Creator): 

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. (SLANT MAGAZINE)

8. It Girl (Jade): 

I gotta hand it to Jade Thirlwall, not only for daring to follow up the pop juggernaut “Angel Of My Dreams” with “It Girl” but it also follows it in the track listing on her debut. This exudes confidence and why shouldn’t it—who else is giving such fierceness or nasty beats and intent?

9. Rock A Bye Baby (Jean Dawson): 

proving that Doja Cat isn’t the only auteur ruminating through the 1980s for inspiration, Dawson and team (Hoskins, Lecx Stacy, Johnny May, and Jesse Shuste) seamlessly finesse intent and lyrical acrobatics in a manner that mimic some grand idea Prince would have put out circa Sign O’ The Times.

10. Victory Lap Five (Fred Again feat Skepta& PlaqueBoyMax): 

flips Deochii and Rico Nasty’s “Swamp Btches” into a jolt of pure adrenaline, with Skepta jumping in at the same ferocious intensity. Fred again.. teased the track on Twitch before its release, sending fans into a frenzy for the full version. Through Fred again..’s signature electronic lens, the grime backbone crackles with fresh electricity. The result is a collision of hip-hop, dubstep, and pure chaos. (COMPLEX)

 

11. Yamaha (Dijon): 

the track’s idiosyncrasies — drums landing amid unexpected harmonies, like the cadence of popcorn kernels — breathe a kind of spirituality into an experience that mirrors the song’s existential feel. “I am in love with this particular emotion,” he sings sweetly. By the end, we’re floating over trap-sounding drums as electronics slowly sublimate Dijon’s vocals, which delicately transmit wonder in a maelstrom of sound and feeling. (ROLLING STONE)

12. Where Is My Husband? (RAYE): 

it’s a scenario that you can imagine Aretha or Erma Franklin singing so well, though not at quite so high a tempo: a woman, having presumably been told by her well-meaning mates that Mr Right is out there somewhere, gets irate as she wonders where exactly he might be. From the foot-stamping mock petulance of the title downwards, it’s all delivered so knowingly by Raye as she gabbles her way through this screwball caper against a backdrop of Ronson-esque horns. (GUARDIAN)

13. Room Of Fools (FKA Twigs): 

if earlier tracks on Eusexua seemed for Ray Of Light inspired then here Twigs clearly channels Bjork in her Post era and, if you follow electronic music over the last couple of decades, then you’d know that not only is this a logical step but, more precisely, the only step left on an album that shimmers brightly on all fronts.

14. Euro-Country (CMAT): 

grapples with pride, alienation, and loss, contrasting Ireland’s romanticized mystique in pop culture with her own mundane, occasionally painful memories of growing up in an ordinary Irish town amid the 2000s financial crisis, globalization, and the legacy of English colonization. (PITCHFORK)

15. Diva (Model/Actriz): 

draws as much of its palette from hip-hop as it does rock, its push and pull between distorted beat thumps and barbed-wire guitar squall maintaining a tense surface over which Haden provides a tour through series of sexual encounters (“I met a guy in Copenhagen/He was gay but had a girlfriend”). (TREBLE MAGAZINE)

16. Baile Inolvidable (Bad Bunny): 

Benito enlisted an ensemble of young musicians from Puerto Rico’s esteemed school, Escuela Libre de Música Ernesto Ramos Antonini, to play the trombones and claves that dominate the track. The soulful storytelling and nostalgic lyrics were already enough to make this song an instant classic, but it’s the personal P.R. touch that makes it hit that much harder. (ROLLING STONE)

17. The Deep End (12AM) (Cautious Clay): 

Clay can produce a smooth flow seemingly at will so this track, albeit a tad too short to really spazz out into even more greatness, packs a punch but next time, more of those addictive horns please.

18. Dancing Without Moving (Quadeca): 

continues a lot of that wonderful baroque instrumentation, but once again we see Quadeca swinging back in more of a hip hop direction, but again doing so in a way that feels true to the genre while simultaneously I can't really name any contemporary artists who are riding and producing instrumentals that sound quite this psychedelic and sparkly. There are some pockets on the track where I wish his vocals were a bit more raw or naked or up front, but I'm still massively impressed with how well the beats and flows groove on this track without really succumbing to all of the pretty layers of instrumentation surrounding them. Meanwhile, the lyrics on this track dive further into the idea that Quedeca is just on this solo journey we could call life, and he's working through regrets and rejections. (THE NEEDLE DROP)

19. Sucka Free (Tyler, the Creator): 

“I’m that guy” croons Tyler repeatedly on a track that he then spends its entire run time proving just that.

20. Capezero (Perfume Genius): 

on the diaphanous “Capezio”, Hadreas pens some of his most cryptic lyrics and yet, the song is one of the most evocative pieces on the album. Adopting a higher-pitched vocal, he conveys fragility or precariousness, his voice framed by well-placed accents, light drum beats, and his own supporting vocals. (BEATSPERMINUTE)

The Top 30 ALBUMS of 2025: Part Two (#11--20)...

 

New career heights for a lot of these artists...:

11. Kevin Abstract BLUSH: 

where ‘Blanket’ worked in laser-focused, genre committed increments, ‘Blush’ entertains more chaotic instincts, the huge array of contributors’ proof of this. The strongest moments of ‘Blush’ arise in its artistry rather than precision. Abstract and co have cast a wide net, a technicolour palette of genre, soundscapes and feelings. ‘Blush’ opens up Kevin Abstract’s genre agnostic sensibilities further, but this time the sense of community and belonging threads the needle beautifully. (CLASH MUSIC)

 

12. Quadeca VANISHER, HORIZON SCRAPER: 

the irony of Vanisher is that Quadeca’s trying to solve the unsolvable, packaging the complexities of life and adulthood into a pat allegory about a man and an ocean that seems to contain the world. Surrendering to life would really mean something messier, unfinished, genuinely inscrutable, and out-there. Still, there are many moments where the weight of the sound and symbols disappears, and all we’re left with is a potent hit of euphoria. Quadeca and Olēka sound like twin angels on “Waging War,” willowy vocals wrapping around each other like cursive scripture. At one perfect point, Quadeca shatters into pixelated pieces, every mutilated word shadowed by cries. “I surrender to my heart,” he finally sings, and the instrumentation falls away. It sounds like giving yourself over to the waves and drifting off into the horizon. (PITCHFORK)

 

13. Jade THAT’S SHOWBIZ BABY!: 

a surprisingly kaleidoscopic pop record that felt fresh without feeling over-labored. Despite its title, a majority of the album is about love and heartbreak, with "Headache" being a slinky little track about loving someone even when they're annoying, and the Robyn-esque "Self Saboteur" about crashing a relationship for reasons the narrator is still trying to figure out. There are a lot of complicated feelings on Jade Thirlwall's debut, and by not taking the easy route with her artistry, she is going to be staying in SHOWBIZ for a very long time. (YARDBARKER)

 

14. Doja Cat VIE: 

with “Vie,” her fifth studio album, Doja Cat surpassed expectations with a project that imbues ’80s fun with her signature brand of innovative rap, melodies and ideas. She brings a driving and breathless feel to “Aaahh Men!” and turns to a synthy, upbeat vibe on “Jealous Type” and goes to a slowed-down groove with “Acts of Service.” If Doja’s fourth album “Scarlet” was her darker, straightforward hip-hop record, then “Vie” takes her fans a little closer to her pop-focused works like “Planet Her” and “Hot Pink.” But Doja Cat is still doing some of her best work on this album, no matter where your genre affinities sit. For music fans who want artists to continually grow and experiment with different sounds, Doja Cat is a top contender among artists who are pushing the limits in a way that will always keep us coming back for more. (HUFFPOST)

 

15. Rose Gray LOUDER, PLEASE: 

on ‘Louder, Please’, Gray’s music has finally caught up with her lifestyle. The crackly sounds of the underground finally have their unfiltered moments, while her long-standing pop sensibilities still retain their place through respectable chorus hooks and addictive melodies (her classical vocal training is also clear for all to see). Gray has too many strings to her bow to lay down one overarching, definitive statement. As such, ‘Louder, Please’ is more of a dare than an instruction: follow her down this rabbit hole, and brace yourself for where she ends up. (NME)

 

16. Lily Allen WEST END GIRL: 

one of the rawest narratives to emerge in pop this year, Allen’s “West End Girl” is an unflinchingly candid divorce album with lots to give. Across 14 sharply crafted tracks, she charts the progression from dawning awareness to outright liberation, weaving autobiography and invention. The spiked wit of “4Chan Stan” cuts straight through the noise, while “Relapse” transforms heartbreak into a battle against self-undoing. Songs like “Dallas Major” push the concept further, weaponizing hooks to confront dead ends in love, motherhood and public scrutiny. It’s some of the best pop songwriting of the year, doubling as a public testimony that’s impossible to turn off. (VARIETY)

 

17. Ghais Guevara GOYARD IBN SAID: 

structured in two acts, Guevara’s concept piece follows a fictional anti-hero who rises from corner rap star to luxury-brand demigod before watching the spoils curdle. Act I’s centerpiece “The Old Guard Is Dead” pairs roiling trap drum-programming with a compressed soul sample that sounds like vinyl spun backwards; Guevara rips through double-time boasts only to undercut them with “Aim for the moon, rose from the gallows”—a couplet that frames triumph as execution by another name. Act II flips the palette: “Leprosy” slows the tempo, substituting hazy guitar chops while he sneers, “actions don’t match their lyrics,” a self-indictment as much as industry critique. Throughout, his flows dart between Philly street punchlines and West African griot cadence, a nod to the historical Ibn Said, whose name he borrows. By finale “I Gazed Upon the Trap with Ambition,” the beats have thinned to skeletal clicks, and Guevara’s voice fractures into half-sung laments, the anti-hero finally staring into luxury’s hollow center. The narrative gambit never feels forced because Guevara’s technical fireworks—polysyllabic rhyme chains, sudden meter shifts—keep the story wired to the adrenal rush of outstanding rap records. (SHATTERTHESTANDARDS)

 

18. Sudan Archives THE BPM: 

on the surface, The BPM is a relatively accessible dance album, and Archives is far from the first artist to treat the nightclub as home. But it also features some uncommonly harsh sounds: Buzzing noises fill up the album’s empty spaces (these songs are best consumed on headphones), giving the proceedings a hallucinatory edge. The BPM finds excitement in disintegration, evoking a night out where druggy euphoria keeps threatening to morph into something more dangerous. hroughout the album, both the singer and the music itself are constantly on edge, and yet The BPM pulses with the kind of euphoria that can only come from letting loose on the dance floor. (SLANT MAGAZINE)

 

19. Kali Uchis SINCERELY: 

the acceptance Uchis finds on the latter half of the album doesn’t come at the expense of the chaos and insecurity she sings about earlier on. It’s all there, together: love and hurt, heaven and earth, birth and loss. These contradictions reach their full apotheosis on “ILYSMIH,” which stands for “I love you so much it hurts” and is dedicated to her son: “He showed me what my life was really worth/Down here on earth/ And it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.” His giggling “mama” closes the album, a last word that’s also a first word. (ROLLING STONE)

 

20 Panda Bear SINISTER GRIFT:  

more textbook and recognizable than most of Lennox’s previous efforts, full of well-crafted, old-school rock motifs and kinetic immediacy. Though he went three-for-three on pre-release singles, the first 12 minutes of Sinister Grift is among Panda Bear’s finest work, especially the 20/20, “Time to Get Alone” and “I Can Hear Music”-conjuring opener “Praise” and the left-field dub-pop that reinvents the conventions of “50mg.” Too, these songs offer a look into a vulnerable side of Lennox we’ve rarely encountered, as he fixates on love through different intervals of separation, be it divorce or the things that were said but not meant. This music isn’t broken, though; only bruised. (PASTE)