The 100 Best Songs of 2023

Last week, we unveiled our 50 Best Albums of 2023 list, which was topped by the likes of Wednesday, Kelela, Caroline Polachek, Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit, Young Fathers, boygenius and numerous other stellar acts we still can’t get out of our heads. This time around, we’ve decided to double the output to 100 picks for the first time in Paste’s 20+ year existence. The pool of options was just too great to ignore, and it gives us an opportunity to showcase twice as many artists.

While we’ve picked out 100 songs, we are opting to keep it limited to one song per artist. This year, our entries stretch across a vast range of genres, touching everything from shoegaze to country-rock to rap to jazz to electronica to deep house to post-hardcore. Stay tuned the rest of the year for our sub-genre lists, including box sets, reissues, K-pop, debuts and yesterday’s EP ranking. Until then, without further ado, here are our picks for the 100 best songs of 2023. —Matt Mitchell, Music Editor

[Contributors: Matt Mitchell, Josh Jackson, Robert Ham, Anna Govert, Miranda Wollen, Madelyn Dawson, Olivia Abercrombie, Ethan Beck, Taylor Ruckle, Elise Soutar, Sam Rosenberg, Devon Chodzin, Eric Bennett, Grant Sharples, Natalie Marlin, Rachel Saywitz, Rosa Sofia Kaminski]

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100. MUNA: “One That Got Away”

The self-proclaimed “greatest band in the world,” MUNA lives up to their name on the wickedly-addictive “One That Got Away,” 2023’s most satisfying breakup banger. Following the success of their 2022 self-titled record and break-out hit “Silk Chiffon ft. Phoebe Bridgers,” “One That Got Away” abandons the guitar-driven acoustics of that single to head back to the trio’s electronic pop roots. More reminiscent of “Number One Fan” from Saves the World or “What I Want” from MUNA, “One That Got Away” finds inspiration in ’90s club tracks and Janet Jackson hits, all wrapped in a confident “your loss” attitude after the end of a situationship. Katie Gavin, the band’s lead singer and one of my favorite lyricists in the business, always employs the most casually brilliant wordplays into MUNA’s tracks, with “One That Got Away” boasting “if you never put it on the line, how am I gonna sign for it?” and “but the truth is that it’s costly, baby, ’cause you lost me.” The song’s digs are delivered through Gavin’s always-stellar vocals and backtracked by Josette Maskin and Naomi McPherson’s addictive instrumentals and production. Following a banner year in 2022, MUNA’s lone 2023 release in the midst of their own headlining tour and a stint on Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour feels like a celebratory triumph, and is absolutely one of the best songs of the year. —Anna Govert

99. Maple Glider: “You At The Top Of The Driveway”

Maple Glider’s “You At The Top Of The Driveway” is a saccharine, sincere tune sung in a hypnotic soprano—a proudly minimalist, nostalgic take on familial love in the wake of oncoming change. In just over two minutes, Tori Zietsch’s siren song draws you into a fully-sketched miniature world, one full of swaying dresses, erstwhile birthday parties and slowly-crawling years. “We’ll go for walks, collect tadpoles in the rain just like we did when we were the same age,” she sings. “And mum was selling Avon, we thought nothing was wrong, ‘till we grew into separate lounge rooms and so on.” Zietsch is known for her childishly sweet songwriting, each track arriving like a ruminative lullaby. “You At The Top Of The Driveway” is straightforward in its emotions; an orchestra of silence torn through only by a lilting guitar and starry-eyed lyrics. It’s vulnerable and relatable, soothing and brimming with care. —Miranda Wollen

98. The Serfs: “Electric Like An Eel”

Cincinnati punk trio The Serfs—Dylan McCartney, Dakota Carlyle and Andie Luman—released their third full-length Half Eaten By Dogs earlier this year, complete with their unique industrial sonic landscape. “Electric Like An Eel” is a layered, complex electronic track with nods to other musical influences, with blues harmonics and funk basslines complementing The Serfs’ otherworldly vibe. The experimental arrangement invokes the likes of ’80s synth powerhouses The Cure and Depeche Mode, as the robotic sounds are punctuated by a groovy bassline pulsing underneath—creating the perfect darkwave club track. —Olivia Abercrombie

97. Jane Remover: “Census Designated”

The title track from 20-year-old experimental rock musician Jame Remover’s 2023 LP, “Census Designated” is a portrait of an artist so comfortably entrenched in the discomfort of her own sonic world. The six-minute song slowly unfurls into a wholly immersive world—crass and visceral, but utterly celestial. Written and produced entirely by Jane herself, the song blends the grating noise of industrial glitch with gossamer keys and a smooth, confident vocal performance. On “Census Designated,” Jane fears nothing. She meditates on the music industry at large—the consumption of her art as a money making tool—but remains acutely confident in the potentiality of what she is doing. She sings “I’m young blood, fresh meat, and I like that,” and there is a tongue-in-cheek type of awareness here; she knows that she’s young and hungry and ready to experiment. She knows she sounds like absolutely no one else. She knows exactly what she’s doing—and she’s doing a damn good job at it. —Madelyn Dawson

96. Grian Chatten: “Bob’s Casino”

One would be forgiven if they thought the first solo project to stem from Ireland’s Fontaines D.C.—who last year put out Skinty Fia, their most intense and varied album to date—would work in a similar stylistic vein to the band’s output. Instead, frontman Grian Chatten placed the already-poetic bent to his lyrics into a more singer-songwriter-friendly context on Chaos For The Fly, his first full-length under his own name. This shift often yields stunning results across the album’s runtime, maybe best exemplified by the carnivalesque character sketch of “Bob’s Casino.” A woozy, tragic Lee Hazelwood homage, Chatten crafts a cautionary tale of a drunken gambler and brings his partner, Georgie Jesson, to provide dreamlike reprieve during the intro and choruses. It’s a bittersweet impression of the darker urges laying dormant in so many of us, all rendered in glorious technicolor. —Elise Soutar

95. Katie Dey: “never falter hero girl”

The title track on Katie Dey’s sixth album hits like a blast of glitter shrapnel. While the Melbourne artist has made her name over the years on her idiosyncratically tender brand of synth-pop, “never falter hero girl” is a full-on noise pop barrage, its distorted guitars arriving like a defibrillator shock of perseverance. Borrowing a line from the anime Soaring Sky! Pretty Cure for the track’s title, Dey stretches every last syllable of the phrase, contorting each step toward self-assurance further until she’s letting out wrenching screams. The result is dually impressive: a bolstering of Dey’s self through even the hardest challenges, and a touching invocation of persistence for any listener who needs it most. —Natalie Marlin

94. Irreversible Entanglements: “Our Land Back”

It wouldn’t take much to mix the beginning of this track in with the end of the jaimie branch tune also on this list. The tone and tender heart at the center of each song are coming from the exact same place: a bottomless well of despair at the state of our planet as we watch it, and its inhabitants, get torn apart. branch uses it as fuel for a fight while this group of forward-thinking artists move from spiritual jazz chaos to a bluesy kind of calm that allows poet Moor Mother to wonder aloud about the mess we’re in. You could call it prescient with her references to Palestine and the Middle East but she knows that these issues have been going on for years and won’t stop anytime soon. It’s the kind of noise that might otherwise drown out her call for global reparations. But we won’t let that happen, will we? —Robert Ham

93. Fever Ray: “Carbon Dioxide”

For as much as Karin Dreijer has worked in grim moods and haunting tones, they’ve always been just as capable of flipping their slippery electropop into pure exuberance whenever fitting. The most energetic point of their latest outing as Fever Ray sees them embrace this mode more than ever before, giving into the headlong thrall of burgeoning queer love like the intoxicating spell it is. Synths drift and build heavenward, violins dramatically stab in a heart-pounding swoon, and phantom echoes hound Dreijer’s words like their innermost desires given voice, all compounding until the track erupts in a boiling over point, Dreijer fully giving themselves over to the rush. “Carbon Dioxide” is a contagious high in Fever Ray’s catalog, and perhaps the freest that they have ever sounded. —Natalie Marlin

92. Troye Sivan: “Rush”

The steamy opener to Troye Sivan’s third and best album Something to Give Each Other, “Rush” is an instantly catchy actualization of the Australian singer’s aspiration to create hot, sexy, explicitly gay pop music. In addition to boasting an equally titillating music video, “Rush” contains a snappy, house-inflected beat that immediately situates the listener into the sweaty, liberating intimacy of Sivan’s world. Yes, the title technically is a cheeky play on the name of a poppers brand, but it’s an apt descriptor for the thrill of acting on our desires. Whereas Sivan performed in a more timid and suggestive register in his previous output Bloom, “Rush” finds him engagingly, refreshingly seductive, beckoning us to embrace the heat of the moment. —Sam Rosenberg

91. Marci: “KITY”

Electronic music is having such a rewarding moment right now that almost no attempt at harnessing the greatness of Carter-era club soundscapes goes unsuccessful. With Marci’s passionate vocals glazed atop a groovy guitar riff coiled into a piano-driven backbeat, “KITY” (an acronym for “Keep it to Yourself”) is a showstopper that cements her place in the echelons of modern dance-pop; the epitome of what makes a best new songs list so rewarding to compile. What helps Marci stand above mimicry is that her glorious projects pay homage to the greatest pop and disco figures while also maintaining enough space for her to forge her own uniqueness. —Matt Mitchell

90. Shalom: “Happenstance”

One of life’s great truths is that there will always be songs that come out of nowhere from artists you’ve never heard that you can’t stop listening to. This year that artist was Shalom, a South African native living in Fairfax, Virginia, who released her debut album Sublimation on Saddle Creek Records back in February. The little shot of dopamine that her song “Happenstance” delivers is in direct opposition to the lyrics about feeling uncomfortable in your own skin. “I feel so out of place,” she sings in the bouncing, bubbly chorus, “I’m just trying to erase myself whenever I get the chance / My need to evaporate and receive validation at the same time / is just happenstance.” And yet the music coursing through is almost guaranteed to make you feel more at home in your own body. —Josh Jackson

89. waterbaby: “Airforce Blue”

This spring, Sub Pop joined forces with a stylish, rising figure in bedroom pop: waterbaby, the project of Sweden’s Kendra Egerbladh. The first single off her summertime EP, Foam, “Airforce blue” is deeply human but auto-tuned to perfection, owing in part to Egerbladh’s crystalline, emotional delivery. The touching track feels just like stumbling into a dizzying crush and looping through the memories as she inquires wistfully: “Oh, do you remember? ‘Cause I do.” —Devon Chodzin

88. Free Range: “Want to Know”

Free Range’s debut album Practice showcased Chicago-based singer-songwriter Sofia Jensen’s astute songwriting, imbuing simply-spoken folk songs with heartache and warmth. “Want to Know” is Jensen’s stroke of genius, a torn-up song about tossing around old feelings until you can let go of them. It’s a wonderful depiction of disappointment, especially when Jensen’s voice rises on the line “All I forget is that you haven’t changed.” —Ethan Beck

87. hinako omori: “foundation”

U.K. artist hinako omori released an acclaimed album last year that worked in modes of sound baths and healing, looking to highlight the therapeutic qualities that music can provide. The work she has released this year has been pitched as something of a departure as she works in more pop forms, but listening to “foundation,” her ability to soothe and heal remains very much at the forefront of her productions. omori’s vocal hook alone works through the muscles and synapses like a gentle flood of warm water. But underneath the downtempo beat are drones and melodies that act like a weighted blanket, pressing down and calming with each gush and blossom. —Robert Ham

86. Field Medic: “silver girl”

On “silver girl,” Field Medic—the project of Kevin Patrick Sullivan—captures the shiny bliss of simple love with the quaint production, gentle fingerpicking and resonant lyrics like “I wanna blow you a kiss / I wanna kiss your neck / You’re so sorta dreamy / I love your fashion sense.” The lyrics slip out like a stream of consciousness about the person he loves and all he admires about them down to the littlest things. “silver girl” is the perfect little slice of affection to remind us that connecting with someone doesn’t have to be grand or mythical, that it can just be about talking over a bottle of gin or nothing in particular. —Olivia Abercrombie

85. JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown: “Garbage Pale Kids”

“N****s don’t rap no more, they just sell clothes / So I should probably quit and start a line of bathrobes,” quips Danny Brown on “Garbage Pale Kids,” while samples of Japanese advertisements all but drown him out. Brown may have just marked his transition to middle age on Quaranta but, if anything, on this standout from his full-length collaboration with JPEGMAFIA—SCARING THE HOES—he sounds another 40 years away from cashing out. He trades irreverent verses with Peggy and cackles his way through the joyous and janky production, which here means the guitar tone equivalent of a deep-fried meme. As a marketing strategy, the aesthetic might put off even the boldest faux-ironic influencers, but it’s a damn good way to sneak a noise rock rager into one of the year’s best hip-hop tracks. —Taylor Ruckle

84. Hayden Pedigo: “The Happiest Times I Ever Ignored”

The title track from Texas guitar wizard Hayden Pedigo’s The Happiest Times I Ever Ignored is a gentle, evocative and pensive four-minute acoustic instrumental. Don’t let the Douglas Kenney, National Lampoon-inspired title fool you: This composition from Pedigo is one of immense reflection, patience and gratitude. Translating his voice through chord progressions, he tells a beautiful story that reminds me of the softness within his Letting Go track “Tints of Morning.” Pedigo only continues to build upon himself with every track, and “The Happiest Times I Ever Ignored” is his best outing so far—and this new chapter of his songwriting is a beautiful emblem of growth. —Matt Mitchell

83. Blondshell: “Joiner”

Blondshell’s self-titled debut album came out in the spring, and what a gift from the budding indie-rock goddesses it was. Though the entire album is unbelievably sonically rich, filled with soulful guitar and rip-your-heart-out lyricism, “Joiner” is a deliciously desperate, achingly angry love song that will keep you coming back for more. “You know it’s your playground / My home is your playground” Blondshell laments, like she knows she’s diving into a love that may not ever allow her to come up for air again. “I think I wanna join in / I think I wanna save you / Two people from the bottom of the bin,” she cries, and it rings out equal parts love-letter and C.O.D. —Miranda Wollen

82. Jlin: “Fourth Perspective”

Jlin’s Perspective is a tour de force, and “Fourth Perspective” is the explosive, meticulous centerpiece. The whole EP uses acoustic samples from the Third Coast Percussion ensemble, and Jlin distills them into explosive, meticulous compositions. The arrangement is syncopated, beautiful and challenging, and its darkness is haunting, moody and surreal. It takes a true auteur to make their own language out of fragments of someone else’s creative visions, and that’s what Jlin has done on “Fourth Perspective.” It features a clash of ricocheting programmed beats, but is anchored by the sounds of organic percussion. The arrangement has all been processed through Jlin’s febrile creative brain, slipping out of clarity like an AI action painting. —Robert Ham & Matt Mitchell

81. Sweeping Promises: “Eraser”

If you were to crank up your Sunday Scaries to the point of distortion and filter them through a catchy chorus, you’d get something like “Eraser,” the lead single from Sweeping Promises’ ominously-titled sophomore record Good Living Is Coming For You. Following the underground success of their 2020 debut Hunger For a Way Out, the Lawrence, Kansas duo returned this year hungrier and further from escape than before; throughout the tracklist, they’re hemmed in by gentrification, by sinister interior design and, even, by the overworked sweat of their own brows—their everyday toils turned to just-barely-exaggerated surrealism by minimalist lo-fi recordings. On “Eraser,” the duo’s funky, mutant post-punk sounds like it’s been fermenting to perfection since the 1980s or, in other words, for roughly as long as wages have been stagnant in the U.S. —Taylor Ruckle

80. Greg Mendez: “Maria”

Greg Mendez is not only one of our favorite releases of the year, but its collection of brisk, endearing folk tracks make its titular craftsman one of the most-beloved DIY staples in Philadelphia. The prolific singer/songwriter works through fragmented thoughtfulness and revels in the joy that rises from the ashes of hard damage. “Maria” is a direct look at addiction and heartbreak coupled with a poised, palpable delivery and caring eye. “Come back to me, because it’s easy / Come back to me, I’ll make you happy,” Mendez sings over a hazy fog that parallels the sparse backstory that muscles the track forward. —Matt Mitchell

79. Pangaea: “If”

There is club music. And then there is club music. The basslines rattle you to your core; the drums push through the mix like bursts of light in a shaded room; the vocal samples feel like profound mantras through insistent repetition. Kevin McAuley, the co-founder of UK dance label Hessle Audio who records under the name Pangaea, falls into the latter category. His latest album, Changing Channels, is an enthralling joy ride from start to finish, but it reaches peak club at track three, “If.” Right off the bat, “If” opens with an onslaught of drums, like watching a tidal wave come crashing onto shore from the edge of a beach. Everything fades out into a filtered smog for just a moment until the cut-up vocal gives the signal: “And if you love me, too.” It all blasts back into a percussive din, adding layer upon layer (some synth stabs here, some rubbery textures there) until the track ends, suddenly, just the way it started: with the cacophonous breakbeats that drew you into its intoxicating orbit. —Grant Sharples

78. Youth Lagoon: “Prizefighter”

After retiring Youth Lagoon in 2016, Trevor Powers revived the project for this year’s Heaven Is a Junkyard, a collection of material as mesmerizing as it is moving. “Prizefighter,” released as a single in April, was written for Powers’ friend, the late Cormac Roth. It’s a tribute full of understanding and devotion, with Powers depicting his friend’s battle with cancer through images of bloodied knuckles and brave faces. There’s also the song’s calm, measured pace, which mirrors the way journeys like Roth’s can only be taken on one day at a time. —Eric Bennett

77. PJ Harvey: “I Inside the Old I Dying”

Shrouded in the fog of Dorset’s hills came the legendary singer and songwriter PJ Harvey’s 10th full-length album this past July. Single “I Inside The Old I Dying” is the perfect combination of everything we love about Harvey and everything we didn’t yet know she contained within her. Like the other tracks on I Inside The Old Year Dying, this offering is largely based on Orlam, the collection of poetry Harvey released back in 2022. She sings in the Dorset dialect of English, repeating a chorus of “Oh Wyman, Oh Wyman, / Unray I for en,” which translates to something along the lines of “Oh Wyman, I undress myself for you.” In the fog of her layered vocals, keys and three types of guitars, all is destabilized. And while it doesn’t sound at all like anything else she’s done, it still sounds undoubtedly like PJ Harvey: screeching heights on the verses that find resolve in a deep, rich chorus. She uses the thinning of her voice’s upper register to her own advantage; the clarity of her sound is otherworldly, but her lows are a rich parachute guiding you quickly back to the ground. Harvey described the song as one of “ethereal and melancholic longing,” and the sheer emotive power of the track truly does transcend all. —Madelyn Dawson

76. Maria BC: “Haruspex”

Maria BC continues to push the boundaries between making utterly haunting but still deeply beautiful music in a delicate balance that only their unique perspective on the bizarre can pull off. Their 2023 album Spike Field was an apocalyptic landscape of distorted imagery, and “Haruspex” remains the most mesmerizing track of the bunch. A “Haruspex” is a person in ancient Rome trained to practice a form of divination called haruspicy—where they inspect the entrails of sacrificed animals. “Always on my mind: Is my body right? / A pound of flesh / A dime for the haruspex,” Maria vocalizes with a deep richness—unlike much of the soft croons of the rest of their album—in a lament of anxiety about their gender identity. The ambient darkness of “Haruspex” is Maria BC at their peak: gorgeously grotesque yet softly empathetic. —Olivia Abercrombie

75. Samia: “Pink Balloon”

“Pink Balloon” is a classic Samia heartbreaker: full of honesty about another person’s life, and her love for them. It’s so intimate in that you, along with her, are only peering in at first, trying to help ease this person’s pain without fully knowing it yourself. But then over muted, bare piano chords, Samia’s voice twists towards and away from you, writhing under the pressure of a relationship filled with hurt, making clear the impossible floating of the situation. The lyrics are the strongpoint of the song, with flowery, romantic phrases mixed up between heartbroken second-guessings of the relationship: “You sing of love persistently / Sometimes when you sing to me / I still believe I know you.” It’s all said plainly enough that it instantly makes sense in the heart of any listener, but she chooses everyday words and shapes them into a simple beauty. Her singing seems to hold all these emotions suspended, and when the song ends, you’re all of a sudden not sure where to go from there. —Rosa Sofia Kaminski

74. Hand Habits: “The Bust of Nefertiti”

The final single from Hand Habits’ Sugar the Bruise is a lesson in construction, as Meg Duffy dares to reinvent themselves with experimental, Eurohouse-inspired breakdowns and ambitious storytelling. Rather than evoke something glaringly personal, Duffy’s muse is the titular bust that’s currently at the Neues in Berlin. They consider what it might look like to walk out of the museum and onto a dancefloor and, in turn, the track explodes into a disco coda that’ll enrapture you down to the bone. “The Bust of Nefertiti” is unlike anything Hand Habits has ever made, and it’s a direct, fearless reference point for where Duffy might take the project next. —Matt Mitchell

73. IAN SWEET: “Smoking Again”

“Smoking Again,” to me, is the quintessential heartbreak anthem of 2023—delivered via a sticky-sweet, catchy melody that is as propulsively gentle as its lyrics. It’s the cornerstone of Sucker, Medford’s latest offering under her beloved IAN SWEET moniker. The work on the track is sublime for its incomparable poetics of devotion and separation, a benchmark of glossy bedroom synths and crushing guitars. Colossal hooks that hurt so good fall into each other, as Medford’s singing grows larger-than-life and flirt with the gray area between noise-pop and club bangers. —Matt Mitchell

72. Wilco: “Evicted”

“Evicted” is Wilco at their folksiest and most desperate. In typical fashion, a warm, thrumming guitar underlies his imploring twang, a summoning song for a love that, for the band, seems always just out of reach. Nels Cline’s ever-impeccable guitar sparkles in hypnotic, swaying loops as Jeff Tweedy croons familiarly alongside him, but synths and 12-strings carry the tune in new musical directions. “Am I ever going to see you again?” he sings, the eternal question which encircles Cousin. Instrumental influence from producer Cate Le Bon’s glimmering, electric vault provides a modernist twist for the iconic folk stars, as “Evicted” explores the strained, persistent human connections of a fractured world, the ever-intertwining relations we can’t ignore despite our best efforts. —Miranda Wollen

71. Militarie Gun: “Do It Faster”

“I don’t care what you do, just do it faster” is the rallying call of Militarie Gun’s “Do It Faster,” one of the year’s most satisfying songs. Over the last two year,s the California band has been pairing hardcore and jangle pop to massive success on the All Roads Lead to the Gun EPs. On “Do It Faster,” the lead single from their debut album, Life Under the Gun, their pop craft has never been stronger. With vocalist Ian Sheldon’s shout-sang vocals, guitar tones that split the distance between Hüsker Dü and Sum 41 and a quick song length that invokes the spirit of Guided by Voices, “Do It Faster” is a wonderful alarm clock of a song. These traits are closely paired to the lyrics, which act as part-motivational speech, half-empty frustration: “Waste my time, waste my life as I sit and wait for you” Sheldon bemoans at the top of the chorus. Few bands arrive as fully formed as Militarie Gun, and, on “Do It Faster,” they’ve created a mantra for their short, unforgettable punk sound. —Ethan Beck

70. Kate Davis: “Consequences”

The music Kate Davis makes now is far removed from her jazz origins, but the intricate indie rock on her latest collection Fish Bowl makes for one of the most musically interesting releases of the year. She manages to make “Consequences” almost sound like it was recorded underwater with her wavering guitars, bass and keys bobbing underneath her beautiful, breathy vocals. She plays every instrument on the album except drums, with every piece falling perfectly in place. The whole album is one long, loose, first-person tale of the character “FiBo,” and “Consequences” takes a hard look inward: “Without being emotional / Just going through the motions of / One big self-sabotaging empty bitch / It’s scary to realize the reasons why / You wanna die / And that you would spare them of the consequences.” —Josh Jackson

69. Sluice: “Fourth of July”

When I heard the first few notes of Sluice’s “Fourth of July,” I thought I was listening to Bill Callahan. And then that line hit, the one where Justin Morris sings out “We are singing, drinking at the dam, I am a cartoon Callahan, I am the man getting struck by lightning.” You see, Morris is in on the take. He knows that his most recent Sluice album, Radial Gate, conjures the Smog titan. But drawing comparisons upon that initial listen was a naive line to draw in the sand, as “Fourth of July” is, actually, one of the sharpest folk songs of 2023. Morris doesn’t yet have the cynicism that Callahan continues to employ. No, in the world of Sluice, there is still more hope than there is heartache, and “Fourth of July” is a vignette drunk on details. Morris packs the song to the brim with imagery and “I” statements that are sensory wonders. “Huddled under the tire sculptor’s tarp, we are laughing and breathing hard,” he sings. “My knee is bloody from scrambling out. The rain finally quit and we all split an elephant ear, and I went and talked to you for the first time in at least a year.” It’s a coming-of-age reckoning; a recollection of a past life still being cherished. —Matt Mitchell

68. Loraine James: “2003”

The flat affect of Loraine James’ vocal performance on “2003,” the lead single from her album Gentle Confrontation, is a dodge and a stillness. The feelings within this haunting electronic track are that of numbness and dull pain, as James recounts the time, 20 years back, when her father suddenly passed away. “Mother protected me even when empty,” she sings. “I wasn’t steady, she was there for me.” The piercing tones and droning chords throughout the track become a stunning evocation of grief—a sonic sensation of one’s entire world being thrown off axis and trying to regain balance and control amid a flurry of emotions and memories. —Robert Ham

67. Carly Rae Jepsen: “Psychedelic Switch”

Your normie relatives probably know Carly Rae Jepsen as the “Call Me Maybe” person. Consequently, they likely think she’s a one-hit wonder. But real heads know better. Jepsen is one of the most exciting pop stars around, and “Psychedelic Switch” firmly cements that title. It’s wild to think that a song this mesmerizing, cathartic and captivating was relegated to a B-sides album. “Psychedelic Switch” is one of her best songs, an instant highlight in her career that will surely yield enthusiastic audience responses during shows for years to come. Drawing from French touch, four-on-the-floor house and synth-pop, Jepsen’s paean to dancefloor romance is a four-and-a-half-minute tour de force. —Grant Sharples

66. Mary Lattimore: “Music for Applying Shimmering Eye Shadow”

Mary Lattimore’s latest album, Goodbye, Hotel Arkada, is as gorgeous as it is star-studded. “Music For Applying Shimmering Eye Shadow,” however, is one of two tracks that are entirely of her doing, and its sonorous development transfixes. It is reminiscent of the ritual of putting on your most flamboyant accouterments before a performance, of transforming from a meek, pedestrian individual into a glistening superstar. It’s the kind of track that makes every morning better. —Devon Chodzin

65. Olivia Rodrigo: “pretty isn’t pretty”

During the release of her promising debut SOUR, Olivia Rodrigo received some flak for her music sounding derivative of other pop artists like Paramore and Taylor Swift. While complaints around her formulaic tendencies had some validity to them, her electric follow-up GUTS thankfully put that criticism to rest. “pretty isn’t pretty,” the album’s standout penultimate track, is a particularly compelling refutation of the idea that the Disney Channel actress-turned-pop star can’t come into her own without relying so heavily on her influences. Backed by a dreamy, reverb-heavy instrumental, Rodrigo sings about the eternal struggle to meet idealized expectations around womanhood and beauty. It’s a simple, well-worn theme that Rodrigo deepens with cleverness and specificity, turning what could have easily been an earnest ballad into a cathartic pop-rock song that sounds completely hers. —Sam Rosenberg

64. superviolet: “Big Songbirds Don’t Cry”

The face of beloved Ohio pop-punk wailers the Sidekicks for over a decade, Steve Ciolek has shifted his gaze towards something a bit more low-key. After calling up Saintseneca’s Zac Little to help out with the production, Ciolek, now under the name superviolet, has found something calm and catchy. “Big Songbirds Don’t Cry” perfectly set the stage for his next big move: Infinite Spring. The track is a relaxed acoustic guitar coupled with perfect harmonies and focused percussion. “Night owls don’t get green / They just get even / Jealousy’s a kickstart to an evening / Tell Trevor or whatever that his time is up / And if he walks through that door / I’m sure I’ll clean his clock,” Ciolek sings. Though the name of his main project has changed, Ciolek’s vision is as full and splendid as it was when he was penning Sidekicks tracks. In all of its glorious wordplay and thoughtfulness, “Big Songbirds Don’t Cry” is a wave of wholehearted songwriting that will stick with you. —Matt Mitchell

63. Home Is Where: “yes! yes! a thousand times yes!”

Home is Where have a relentless command of fifth wave emo’s capacity for undeniable melodicism. Be it lines like “I wanna pet every puppy I see,” “Every day feels like 9/11,” or simply “Hey Samantha!,” vocalist Brandon MacDonald sings each like she’s pitching her whole body against the riffs Tilley Kormony carves out. The lead single of their sophomore album the whaler puts this strength front-and-center, letting MacDonald trace Kormony’s twinkling notes like an alternate-reality “Soak Up the Sun” as written by Jeff Mangum. Just when the track seems to settle into a refrain of MacDonald repeatedly howling out “I do!,” it flips itself completely, trudging into a lock-step breakdown that collapses the illusion of marital bliss in an instant. Through even the most sudden of reversals, though, Home is Where never lose sight of their knack for some of the tightest songwriting in their scene. —Natalie Marlin

62. Amaarae: “Co-Star”

“Co-Star” is a garden of starry pleasures, perhaps the only response to someone (straight) who chastises against choosing partners based on horoscopes. Amaarae plays as its caretaker, playfully interrogating each of her potential lovers’ sun, moon and rising signs with a trickster’s eye, her light, staccato vocals keeping in time with the song’s lively backbeat. Threading it all together is a honeyed harp line which sounds plucked straight from Mount Olympus itself—after all, the way Amaarae flirtatiously captivates your ear can be nothing but God-like. —Rachel Saywitz

61. boygenius: “Cool About It”

While boygenius’ the record may have an unassuming title, it is home to some of the most dynamic songwriting that any of its members—Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus—have ever done. There are rippers among its ranks, to be sure, but the album’s heart is the slight, subtle “Cool About It.” Who wrote which song, and who is taking the lead, is a frequent topic of discussion among fans. “Cool About It” is the rare moment of true equilibrium, with each of the boys contributing a single verse written into the same melodic frame. Accompanied only by guitar, it’s sparse and lets you fall into its stories of relationships plagued by poor communications, unmet expectations and ill-fated dive bar meetups. —Eric Bennett

60. Jamila Woods ft. duendita: “Tiny Garden”

On 2019’s Legacy! Legacy!, Chicago songwriter Jamila Woods explored the influence of manifold Black artists, with tracks named after Zora Neale Hurston, James Baldwin and Sun Ra, to name a few. Although that record had its moments of introspection, it primarily gazed outward. Water Made Us, her latest album, ponders the self. Its lead single, “Tiny Garden,” featuring Queens artist duendita, is the perfect thesis statement: “It’s not butterflies or fireworks / Said it’s gonna be a tiny garden / but I’ll feed it every day.” It’s a proclamation that professes the necessity of self-realization, no matter how small those steps toward it may be. —Grant Sharples

59. yeule: “Sulky Baby”

Sorrow hangs like a thunderous cloud on yeule’s “sulky baby,” a diaristic, distorted dreamscape held by a wordless, wavering melody. Pained, shoegaze guitars strum in despondent rhythm as yeule’s voice multiplies into shimmering metallic laments—at times they’re lyrics scrape against your ear, as if skimming the edge of a skyscraper. “sulky baby” teeters on that elevation despite its grounding alt-rock base, making the track a bit of a guessing game: Will yeule jump into the storm or not? It’s anyone’s guess. —Rachel Saywitz

58. Earl Sweatshirt & The Alchemist ft. Vince Staples: “The Caliphate”

While Earl Sweatshirt and The Alchemist made one of the best rap records of the year in Voir Dire, it’s standout track “The Caliphate” is what helps make it one of Earl’s best projects yet. The arrangement is muted, with a beat that pushes onwards with faint synthesizers beneath the rhythm. The true charm of the song is in Earl and Vince’s flows, as they trade moments and exchange mic drops. “When cheese attract the rats, police attachin’ facts. They ain’t PC, they just trustees, I had to laugh at that,” Vince spits; “Please observe the gone and dead, tell ‘em save a spot for them. The kid lost his collar then, death be scraped up off all the chips and left a trail of frowning faces and shakin’ powdered wigs,” Earl responds one verse later. It’s not often we get to watch two titans of the genre converge like this, but “The Caliphate” proves that Earl Sweatshirt and Vince Staples can take the best Alchemist rhythms and spin it into solid gold. That outro, too, it’s one of the best of the year. —Matt Mitchell

57. Knife Girl: “Estrogen”

Considering how emboldened the rest of the known universe is to say pretty much anything they dare to, it feels somewhat refreshing to hear Lili Aslo, the Finnish artist known as Knife Girl, worry about one of the repeated lines in their new single “Estrogen.” True, the lyric is, “I love my tits / I love my dick,” but even that feels entirely tame compared to some of the nonsense I hear on cable news. And when those words are paired with a joyous dance groove, they become as empowering as Aslo intended. You can’t help but chant along no matter if you have tits, dick or none of the above. —Robert Ham

56. El Michels Affair & Black Thought ft. KIRBY: “Glorious Game”

The title track from the El Michels Affair’s collaboration with Roots MC Black Thought, “Glorious Game” is an old-school jazz-rap song for the ages. As always, Thought’s flow is that of a titan. But what sets this track above-and-beyond is the El Michels Affair’s instrumentation, spearheaded by bandleader Leon Michels and his absolutely disgusting, funkified basslines. Throw in velvet-draped vocals from KIRBY, and you’ve got one of the sexiest, introspective outings of the year altogether. Seeing two powerhouses in their respective lanes converge on a track like “Glorious Game,” what a gift such an occurrence is. —Matt Mitchell

55. Water From Your Eyes: “Barley”

“Barley” might be Water From Your Eyes’ best song to date. It’s an elevated version of the paths they’ve traveled before, a display of their evolving chemistry as a musical portmanteau that weaves sounds in novel ways. Featuring everything from shakers, woozy key samples, Lee Ranaldo-esque guitar squelches and dissonant, atonal synths, each element comes in and out of earshot intuitively. Nothing overstays its welcome, remaining for however long it pleases. The lyrics are esoteric and opaque, but the band suggest it’s about “futile attempts at attaining the unattainable.” I mean, hey, climbing the corporate ladder feels a whole lot like climbing and “count[ing] mountains,” as Rachel Brown’s refrain puts it—a physically and mentally taxing exercise that drains all life out of you. —Grant Sharples

54. The Lemon Twigs: “In My Head”

The Lemon Twigs’ fourth record, Everything Harmony, is their best—and most ambitious—offering of music yet. Gone are the days of amber-colored retro, as the D’Addario brothers—Brian and Michael—are enveloping themselves in a song cycle caked in their own unforgettable style. In turn, “In My Head” is an impossibly glamorous decadence of pop rock. When Michael gives a hypnotizing, McCartney-style “Ooo” that contorts and bends like a boa constrictor, it is immediately evident that this band, these brothers, have found their stride. “In My Head,” like the rest of Everything Harmony, is some of the best-engineered rock music of the year. It sounds beautiful and, if you treat yourself to a listen via headphones, the density of its colors begin to glow brighter than ever. When you spend your whole lives growing up together, the chemistry is already in place. But somehow, Brian and Michael have transcended even that. —Matt Mitchell

53. billy woods & Kenny Segal: “Soft Landing”

Picture yourself on a cross-continental flight to Amsterdam, your brain tuned to a special kind of static with the help of some daiquiris and weed. Your inner monologue may just sound like what billy woods spits on this highlight from Maps, one of two brilliant albums that the brilliant rapper dropped in 2023. Those carefree signifiers of a beautiful sun and soaring birds in the sky just become reminders that he’s in a shit mood. It comes out in this song like a woozy stream-of-consciousness, starting with struggles with his lady and landing at more global frustrations like the plight of political prisoners and how the worst people, like cockroaches, will likely survive a nuclear holocaust. The only thing keeping woods from sinking further is Kenny Segal’s production, which here sounds like a warped psychedelic pop tune played on a slowly dying Victrola. —Robert Ham

52. feeble little horse: “Steamroller”

Lydia Slocum’s stomach-churning, keen lyrics about relationships are what elevates noise-pop group feeble fittle horse above the shoegaze-obsessed, tired indie rock of today. “Steamroller, you fuck like you’re eating” is how Slocum opens the best song on the equestrians’ sophomore album, Girl With Fish. By putting together feedbacking guitars and a grimey depiction of a less-than-ideal rendezvous, the Pittsburgh-based band make “Steamroller” an ideal pairing of form and content. —Ethan Beck

51. Chappell Roan: “Femininomenon”

The opener of Chappell Roan’s The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess, “Feminienomenon” acts as a litmus test. Can you get behind the delightfully unserious, theatrical approach Roan takes to pop music? If you take to “Femininomenon,” then yes, you’ve passed the test. Proceed. Its verses are sweeping and melodramatic, with Roan singing about her romantic foibles. When the tone gets too dour for her liking, Roan interrupts herself with a delightfully catty question: “Can you play a song with a fucking beat?” With that, percussion that may as well be pots and pans takes over, and Roan’s torch song becomes a scorcher. —Eric Bennett

50. Yo La Tengo: “Aselestine”

On This Stupid World, the band’s 17th studio album, Yo La Tengo proved something no one doubted: They’ve still got it. The album offers some of their most propulsive, meandering beauties, edging into noisy territory. “Aselestine” is a much more mellow entry, with minimal drums and guitars strummed with such care it can feel as if the trio is in your living room playing to you and only you. Georgia Hubley’s feathery vocals, simply put, could not be more beautiful or fitting for such a sensitive track. —Devon Chodzin

49. Noname: “namesake”

On “namesake,” Noname makes clear that revolution isn’t just a concept—it’s a perpetual practice. A fast, narrow beat touched with light drumming almost plays like it could run under a detective procedural, but the MC’s quick wordplay has an ensnaring focus: The crime and its solution are obvious. But to be serious about social change requires inward interrogation as well—in “namesake”’s most stunning moment, Noname examines how she herself forsook praxis for profit. Her honesty explains the song’s lack of a fierce anger: Noname’s ire may be sharp, but it is not without stern understanding. —Rachel Saywitz

48. Julie Byrne: “Lightning Comes Up From The Ground”

There’s a yearning woven into every song on Julie Byrne’s masterful third album, The Greater Wings, but nowhere is it laid as bare as on “Lightning Comes Up From The Ground.” Byrne, her voice rich and drifting like smoke, sings of desire and of wanting to be desired. She puts it plainly: “I want to be a fantasy to you.” Her every word carries with it a tenderness, as though expressing these feelings at all is a balm on a deeply held ache. Whether it’s reflection or fantasy, her depiction of love’s overwhelming electricity is a wonder to behold. —Eric Bennett

47. Fust: “Trouble”

Featuring the handiwork of fellow Tar Heels Jake Lenderman and Xandy Chelmis of Wednesday and MJ Lenderman, Durham-based country rockers Fust pack the sweet, soulful alt-rock emblem “Trouble” with Crazy Horse-style riffs and a limitless pedal steel. Where preceding single “Violent Jubilee” was a brilliant, piano-facing ballad that spun itself into a distorted, gothic bedrock of Americana inflections and Southern rock architecture, “Trouble,” though much more handsome and steadfast in its North Carolina twang (which Fust brought to life at Drop of Sun Studios in Asheville), is a perfect encapsulation of the compositional brilliance of Fust’s underrated yet massive album Genevieve altogether. —Matt Mitchell

46. Genesis Owusu: “Tied Up!”

After making his mark on the industry through building multi-dimensional blockbusters out of his own poetry, I don’t think “ceiling” is even in Genesis Owusu’s vocabulary. If it once was, it sure as hell isn’t anymore. STRUGGLER’s central story of The Roach takes many sonic shapes. On “Tied Up!,” Owusu plays around with guitar distortion and clap-hand percussion. The song is a slick, distorted, vibrant offering that merges funk harmonics with hip-hop in technicolor, warped and gauzy precision. At its core, “Tied Up!” is an amalgam of everything that Genesis Owusu does best and does brilliantly. “Dance my way through demons, Mama told me ‘Give ‘em hell!’” he sings in a post-punk attitude. “Dancing in the darkness, I’m the boy inside the well. It’s the type of music someone who thinks of themselves as an outsider would make; it doesn’t fit anywhere, and that’s where the magic comes from. “It’s a Wild West baby, life’s a saloon.” —Matt Mitchell

45. Chris Farren: “Cosmic Leash”

The lead single from Chris Farren’s Doom Singer is a volcano of hardcore and power pop that erupts into a delicious, emo-gleaning tempest. It’s heavy, catchy bubblegum music that posits distorted, hooky guitars around Farren’s anthemic singing. “The cosmic leash, the lava flow, my body bursting like a volcano,” he howls. “It’s rushing back, back to me. The time release, the afterglow, I wanna glitch out of the world I know. I love to reap, I hate to sow.” With engineering from Jay Som’s Melina Duterte, “Cosmic Leash” is the type of career-defining work that a casanova like Chris Farren would drum up in the Year of our Lord 2023. —Matt Mitchell

44. Sampha: “Spirit 2.0”

Rediscovering the self by embracing the little things in life is a recurring theme throughout Sampha’s recent LP Lahai. “Spirit 2.0,” the album’s ethereal second song, emphasizes the power of love and spirituality in the healing process (“Waves will catch you, light will catch you, love will catch you, spirit gon’ catch you”). He sounds self-aware and conscious of the impact his words and actions can have—both on the people in his life and the larger world around him. Joan Didion once said that “we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not.” “Spirit 2.0” is a song that exemplifies that principle, as we see Sampha accepting responsibility and stepping into his future by evaluating the life’s path he’s walked so far and reconnecting with his innermost self. —Elizabeth Braaten

43. Margo Cilker: “Keep It On A Burner”

A juggernaut single from Valley Of Heart’s Delight, “Keep It on A Burner” finds Margo Cilker crooning through a gospel-influenced, orchestra country arrangement. With horns cascading atop feather-light guitars, the Oregon singer/songwriter breathes new life into an alt-country tune that glitters as often as it aches. In a stream-of-consciousness reflection, Cilker began writing the story while whitewater rafting on the Salmon River. Surrounded by rattlesnakes and wildfire smoke, she laments: “I got sidewalks, I got sunburned, I got books I haven’t read / I got neighbors, telling neighbors, they’ll be burning up when they’re dead / I got wasted, I got waylaid, I got stuck in Lodi again / But I’ve got time now, I’ve got know-how, I’ve only got to write the end.” Cheeky Creedence Clearwater Revival nods and timely bookshelf imagery aside, “Keep It On a Burner” is one of the very best country tracks of 2023. —Matt Mitchell

42. Cut Worms: “I’ll Never Make It”

Many of the chapters on Cut Worms showcase various novelizations of romance, innocence and sorrow. Max Clarke never gives us a bounty of exposition, nor do we need it. The gift that keeps on giving from the Cut Worms universe is his ability to piece together a perfect rock track almost every time he picks up his guitar to write. Thus, “I’ll Never Make It” is a melty, visceral benchmark of pop traditionalism. The guitar tone sounds like it oozed out of a guitar drenched in velvet, in one of the sweetest, Crickets-style melodies with an opening riff that conjures as much yearning as Clarke’s own lyricism does. “What’s happening to me? When you’re broken in two, lost in what you can’t do, stay alive, my baby,” he sings. “My love will find you, oh-oh, and you only.” —Matt Mitchell

41. Indigo De Souza: “Smog”

“Smog” is backbreaker indie glossed over with delicious disco inflections, a story spun with doubt in the present. Here, Indigo De Souza is restless, attempting to understand her own flaws, which include feeling most like herself at night, when everyone else is asleep. The arrangements are catchy and balanced and, in the verses, she takes a monotone, patient approach, until she lets her vocals cascade perfectly into a sound wall packed with an atmospheric pastiche of drum machines and synths. “I come alive in the nighttime, when everybody else is done / I come alive, it’s the right time to really start having fun / I don’t know how to turn around if I’m not ready / I don’t know how to tell you that your jokes aren’t funny,” De Souza sings. It’s easily the catchiest song she’s ever put to tape, and one of the most unexpected and impressive turns towards dance music an indie hero has made in recent memory. —Matt Mitchell

40. Bully: “Change Your Mind”

No one makes an anthemic alt-rock track quite like Alicia Bognanno, who parades around stage as Bully. Her latest LP, the triumphant Lucky For You, confirmed her stardom through 10 powerful, liberating and reflective songs about fallen romances and the passing of her beloved pup Mezzi. “Change Your Mind” is the most moving of the bunch, as Bognanno lays down her gauzy, distorted guitars in an early-aughts, coming-of-age-movie-conjuring soundscape. Her legendary, guttural howl pierces the sky and aims to find closure in a relationship she fought deeply to preserve: “I’m not asking for a favor, I just want to be let in / All I wanted was to feel wanted, I don’t need another friend / And you might love me at my best but / At my worst, you’re walking out.” Bognanno grieves through the noise; how lucky we are to be present during the resolve. —Matt Mitchell

39. Katy Kirby: “Party of the Century”

Katy Kirby is on another level right now and, just before 2023’s conclusion, debuted another clip of distinctive, stirring beauty from her forthcoming sophomore LP Blue Raspberry. “Party of the Century” might, based on the title alone, suggest that it’s an anthemic, upbeat song—but Kirby is not the type of musician to let us off so easily. No, “Party of the Century” is pensive and sublime and harmonic, as the largely acoustic arrangement—packed with violin and folkloric percussion—establishes itself, immediately, as one of the best Kirby has ever proctored. Co-written with Christian Lee Hutson, the story is one that is as devastating as it is so deftly romantic, as she opens the track with an observation that the one she loves doesn’t want to bring kids into this world, even though they’re so good with kids. “You’re my worst survival strategy, last safety match I’ve got to light up,” she sings. “Happy anniversary, I’m happy as I’ll ever be. And I still wanna make love in this club.” Party of the century? Yes. Song of the year? You could argue that. I certainly will. —Matt Mitchell

38. Kara Jackson: “dickhead blues”

So much of Kara Jackson’s stunning debut album, Why Does The Earth Give Us People To Love?, is about the insurmountable weight of grief—as well as the expectation of grappling with relationships and self-worth while still carrying its burden. Pairing thoughtful arrangements with cutting prose worthy of the folk giants Jackson cites as an influence, “dickhead blues” unfolds as a grandiose tale of crawling out from under that grief’s rubble and abandoning that which no longer serves her. Wrapped in a heady swirl of strings, percussion, Wurlitzer and rounds of backing vocals, Jackson prods at the titular dickheads tightening their grip on her, planning a future where she is untethered from their demands and focused on her own. “I’m not as worthless as I once thought / I am pretty top notch,” she croons in the song’s final section, letting the resonance of her voice fill all the now-vacated space. She delivers the final declaration of “I’m useful” and it sounds like freedom’s bell ringing out. —Elise Soutar

37. L’Rain: “New Year’s UnResolution”

As L’Rain, Taja Cheek releases everything from folk to field recordings, often with a tantalizing psychedelic twist that maximizes catchiness and profundity. The closing track to her breathtaking album I Killed Your Dog, “New Year’s UnResolution,” is also one of her poppiest: As Cheek sings short verses interrogating the experience of post-breakup catastrophe and the eventual state of being accustomed to solitude, the synths, keys, and drums swirl. After verse two, each instrumental line gradually swells as she asks: “Will you forget me along the way?” The tension mounts while the music dances, only to sink into a hazy oblivion at the end. It’s a masterful, exhilarating journey. —Devon Chodzin

36. Mannequin Pussy: “I Got Heaven”

It’s always the best when a really good band makes their return with a really good song—and Philadelphia foursome Mannequin Pussy did just that when they sent the snarling, thrashing “I Got Heaven” into the world earlier this year. Their first release of new music since their 2021 EP Perfect, “I Got Heaven” was an awakened blend of distorted, fiery alt-rock and melodic, catchy dream-pop. Led by Marisa Dabice, Kaleen Reading, Maxine Steen and Bear Regisford, Mannequin Pussy teamed up with producer John Congleton to help streamline their intensity into the track and forge a searing critique of weaponized fundamentalism. “And what if we stopped spinning? And what if we’re just flat?” Dabice sings. “And what if Jesus himself ate my fucking snatch?” “I Got Heaven” is a great, rewarding snap back into focus for Mannequin Pussy, and a larger-than-life sign of what’s to come for them in 2024. —Matt Mitchell

35. BAMBII: “One Touch”

Toronto producer BAMBII’s “One Touch” is a great electronic track that’s a dancefloor eruption. The song exists at a crossroads of dancehall, jungle and drum’n’bass that never feel claustrophobic. BAMBII has a distinct ability to mesh the genres together in a way that is not so much an amalgam as it is a purified alchemy. Breakbeats, samples and synth runs in tow, she pitches and chops up her vocals and unleashes a motley of energetic, massive tones and triumphs racked with rhythmic garage undercurrents and kinetic bliss. Since hitting stereos in April, “One Touch” has been on constant rotation. —Matt Mitchell

34. Squirrel Flower: “Alley Light”

The standout gem from Squirrel Flower’s Tomorrow’s Fire, “Alley Light” is a glowing pastoral built on the same songwriting land first broken by Springsteen on a record like Born To Run. Lines like “She says she wants to go far outta town in my beat-up car. Will she find another man who can take her there when my drive burns out?” feel exponentially Boss-like, as she tries to capture truths about life and about people in semi-fictional towns in stories that feel familiar and captivating. On “Alley Light” (and much of Tomorrow’s Fire), Ella Williams is navigating concepts of power and breaking down what it means to novelize gender in relationships and how we choose to present them in art—this time through the perspective of “a man you knew, a man you love or a man you don’t know.” That type of curiosity buoys the song into the echelons of cruise-worthy gems. The way Springsteen surveys the world around him is not unlike Williams’; there’s a certain type of industrial romance and plainspoken realism afoot, and it’s a powerful thing to witness. —Matt Mitchell

33. Nourished By Time: “Daddy”

There is a moment almost smackdab in the middle of “Daddy” by Nourished By Time, the musical project of Baltimore native Marcus Brown, where the song cracks itself wide open, splitting right down the center. What was, to that point, a synth-drenched Euro-House banger modulates keys and becomes something more complicated—keys are doubled by a twin guitar line and add a textural layer that makes you want to immediately start the song over just to catch every minute detail. Through a tale of unrequited love twisted into a financial transaction (the pain of not being able to compete with a love interest’s sugar daddy, to be exact), Brown injects melancholy into even the most stirring of summertime singalongs. It toes that elusive line beautifully, blowing up the despondency of a lyric like “I say ‘I love you’ / You say ‘Whatever’” into a joyous, stadium-sized hook. —Elise Soutar

32. Geese: “Tomorrow’s Crusades”

Oddball Brooklyn rock-revivalists Geese sauntered into 2023 with enough swagger to hold their heads high through the entire year. And this was for good reason; riding the traction they had garnered from January lead single “Cowboy Nudes,” the excitement for their sophomore LP 3D Country was high—and it did not disappoint. “Tomorrow’s Crusades” is the perfect intersection of Geese’s familiarity and their strangeness. What begins as a somewhat-straightforward country-rock ballad devolves into a beautiful chaos. Within the first minute-and-a-half, vocalist Cameron Winter pushes his deeply emotive voice to its lowest of lows and its highest of falsetto highs. The track’s string arrangements begin organized and romantic, yet turn into an ominous foreshadowing under Winter’s spoken-yelled “Smoke fills your eyes / Smoke fills your life.” With a madman’s laugh and the clanking of a cowbell, the track ends and Geese keep restlessly moving into their next joyous masterpiece. —Madelyn Dawson

31. Slaughter Beach, Dog: “Engine”

When I say that Slaughter Beach, Dog’s new album Crying, Laughing, Waving, Smiling is their best album yet, just trust me. However, if you aren’t fully convinced, please direct your attention to “Engine”—a nine-minute, “On the Beach”-reminiscent track that punctuates the country swing of its own epicness with patient, sublime maturity. It’s, by all means, Jake Ewald’s strongest lyrical work of his career thus far—which says something, given that he has long been one of our best storytellers. “It’s hard enough singing when the hotel chokes on your memories,” he muses. “Maybe let’s watch The Sopranos, maybe let’s order Chinese. The laundry isn’t breathing, I write about Julie in a little white chair. There’s nothing for music, there’s styrofoam crushed in the garbage.” “Engine” is a poem carved into the space of a song, as Ewald surveys his surroundings and plugs them in like a stream-of-conscious journal. With Erin Rae providing backing vocals and a triumphant, visceral guitar solo guiding the song’s breakdown, this is the epitome of generational, gob-smacking folk rock. —Matt Mitchell

30. MSPAINT: “Think It Through”

With features from Soul Glo’s Pierce Jordan and Militarie Gun’s Ian Shelton, MSPAINT’s debut record Post-American serves as a trilateral summit for adventurous hardcore-adjacent acts who are breaking out in the post-Glow On era. You could call the titular refrain of “Think It Through” the Mississippi synth-punks’ keynote address; it typifies their invigorating, guitar-free sound and offers a message of mindfulness to counterbalance the genre’s righteous aggression. “Stay in a vulnerable state, so I just concentrate on the way that it feels to acknowledge mistakes,” bellows vocalist DeeDee. “I wear the heart on my sleeve to remember my truth.” Depending on your state of mind, that burst of shouted PMA can either feel like getting shoulder-checked in the middle of a yoga class, or like having a stranger in a mosh pit remind you to breathe and unclench your jaw. —Taylor Ruckle

29. Sofia Kourtesis: “How Music Makes You Feel Better”

The title track from Peruvian producer Sofia Kourtesis’ brilliant new deep house album, “How Music Makes You Feel Better” is transcendent. The glitch-pop beats and a choir of chopped up vocal samples are woven into electronic euphoria; it’s the type of dance music that demands a rapture, as Kourtesis employs delicate synths that swirl beneath sun-soaked vocal arpeggios looping into a curated ecstasy. Eventually, the melody is refined into a laser-precise, radar-like refrain, and “How Music Makes You Feel Better” concludes the lesson its title is hellbent on conducting. —Matt Mitchell

28. Big Thief: “Vampire Empire”

Long unreleased yet lauded by fans, “Vampire Empire” originally debuted on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert earlier this spring. In the summer, Big Thief released it into a world that was still buzzing about their 2022 masterpiece Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe in You. “Vampire Empire” starts out soft, as a muted guitar strum and a quiet drum line melt atop each other while Adrianne Lenker’s twangy, raw voice sputters into a rhythmic chant. The song clanks to a crescendo, as her voice swells into a falsetto and cascades back down to a throaty, desperate key we rarely hear from her. The chorus is fantastically cathartic; an explosive release of built-up tension and impossible relief. When Lenker cries out “Falling, yeah” over and over, her voice splits in half and daggers of sound fly into your ears—the kind of uncontrolled fervor that guides you out of the darkness and into self-love. —Miranda Wollen

27. Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit: “King of Oklahoma”

Written while on the set of Killers of the Flower Moon, Jason Isbell and The 400 Unit’s “King of Oklahoma” is a trainwreck of a character portrait, showing how grave the corrosion of opioid addiction can be. As one of our best lyricists, Isbell has always had an eye for the details that can make or break a song. On the soaring, crushingly sad chorus of “King of Oklahoma,” his expertise appears as our narrator fixates on the memory of his ex-wife’s “homemade house shoes,” a shiny, negated memory from back when he felt like royalty. —Ethan Beck

26. Slowdive: “alife”

What do you do when a legendary band releases their best-ever song 30 years into their career? You celebrate, of course! Seriously, though—“alife,” the final single from Slowdive’s everything is alive, may very well be their absolute and all-time greatest offering. Here, Neil Halstead’s vocals have never been better​​—as he employs a very post-punk-styled, monotone octave that becomes enveloped in angelic warmth from Rachel Goswell’s mesmerizing harmonies. Pair that truth with the, dare I say it, ethereal guitar arrangements from Halstead and Christian Savill (and a stand-out drumming performance from Simon Scott) and you’ve got yourself a perfect dream-pop track. Much of what Halstead was trying to do on the doomed Pygmalion all those years ago crops up on “alife,” in the ways the album lifts the focus off of the guitars in hypnotic and confident methods. The song is the antithesis of rigidity, as it builds aglow and unravels like silk. —Matt Mitchell

25. Momma: “Bang Bang”

Sultry rock is back, and Momma is leading the charge with their ode to great sex, “Bang Bang.” The quick and dirty single was a follow-up to last year’s Household Name, and their only original release this year—and when you make a song this catchy, you can get away with it. “Bang Bang” is sensuous ‘90s pop-revival that is unapologetically crude, all while showcasing a different side to their gritty yet glittery and laid-back sound. The young West Coasters continue to be a spark of modern rock, and their carefree, youthful attitude is as refreshing as the rebellious streak of the sex-laden lyrics: “I know that you fantasize / Life is good between my thighs.” —Olivia Abercrombie

24. Girl Scout: “Weirdo”

Swedish quartet Girl Scout released their first two EPs this year and both were full of intricate melodies that are still catchy as hell, none more so than on this three-and-a-half-minute pop song that builds slowly erupting into an ear-worm of a chorus. Singer/guitarist Emma Jansson sings, “I am just a woman who doesn’t feel like something real / And I don’t feel like a woman / I’m just a kid trying to stay hid from everyone else,” before asking “What if I’m a weirdo? Maybe I’m a weirdo?” over and over. It’s the unexpected places the music goes that makes this an endlessly repeatable track, something that my Spotify wrapped was happy to point out this week. —Josh Jackson

23. Lana Del Rey: “A&W”

Has this year given us anything else remotely close to the perfection of “Your mom called, I told her you’re fucking up big time”? Maybe only the dichotomy between “A&W”’s playground taunt trap outro and the uneasy acoustic lament that precedes it—both serving as callbacks to Lana’s musical past—rivals that central line it all leads up to. If Norman Fucking Rockwell’s “Venice Bitch” was a complete treatise on the American iconography and lovesick splendor she’d made a name with, “A&W” is its antagonistic twin. In a rambling meditation on family, sex, religion, drugs and lost love, as well as a precarious relationship with media and her reputation (“I’m a princess, I’m divisive / Ask me why I’m like this”), Lana distills her partnership with us, her listeners, down into a singular sonic marker of her evolution.

As you’re listening through the track, it hits you that she is the only major pop artist now who could pull something like this off: burying whispers of “I can’t testify, I already fucked up my story” (maybe the most brutal moment of her catalog thus far) next to an irresistible chant about a bad boyfriend having to call either the club or his mother to track her down. And it all works. In this complexity lies what arguably makes Lana Del Rey one of our last “rock stars”—certainly in function, if not always in form. Del Rey exists in a pop culture space that allows her to be beloved and difficult in equal measure because she contradicts herself, because she revels in complexity that can be messy to parse through. That’s not to excuse past ill-advised statements she’s made or social media posts she’s had to defend, but that complexity is evident even if you only focus on the music; “A&W” condenses all of that down into one fascinating article. In a queasy, defiant reflection on one the century’s most impactful pop discographies, Lana wrestles with her hold on the genre’s past, present and foreseeable future. We’re lucky to still be living under her thumb. —Elise Soutar

22. 100 gecs: “Dumbest Girl Alive”

10,000 gecs opens with the THX sound test, then shifts to a thrashing Coheed and Cambria-esque breakdown and then it pivots to Laura Les’ heavily Auto-Tuned vocals and an earth-shattering, bass-heavy trap beat. If that all sounds like a lot, that’s because, well, it is. As the opening track, “dumbest girl alive” sums up 100 gecs in a nutshell, which is an impressive feat given how varied Les’ and Dylan Brady’s stylistic reference points are. All of this is on top of the song’s absurdly amusing lyrics. Despite its roughly two-minute length, “dumbest girl alive” manages to pack in some of the most memorable lines of the year, and there are too many to count. From putting emojis on your grave to doing science on your face, “dumbest girl alive” is an utter thrill. —Grant Sharples

21. crushed: “waterlily”

Los Angeles duo crushed’s first project came to us this year by way of a lovely six-track EP released in February. “waterlily” was the record’s lead single, and first thing officially released under the crushed name altogether. Inspirations for their work span from Cocteau Twins to Stardew Valley to Natalie Imbruglia’s “Torn.” The duo’s particular breed of revivalism never sounds tired; in fact, the lush, ‘90s trip-hop and dream-pop sounds they play upon sound more alive than ever on “waterlily.” Shaun Durkan’s guitars whirl you away to another world, full of angels with voices almost as beautiful as Bre Morell’s—as she sings: “Promise to always protect you / if you come back here into my arms. / Can I get back to you without falling in?” But don’t worry, their sonic safety net more than holds you above the water. —Madelyn Dawson

20. Mitski: “My Love Mine All Mine”

While Mitski has always been a critical darling, her recent commercial breakthrough has been a joy to watch unfold. In September, she released what is, just maybe, her best album yet; later that month, she found TikTok virality through an album-only song. But, with internet buzz you have to act fast. On October 3rd, Mitski unveiled “My Love Mine All Mine” as the third and final single from The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, and it ballooned into her first-ever entry on the Hot 100—peaking at #26. This type of success story couldn’t have happened to a more deserving artist, as Mitski remains one of our most powerful and enchanting songwriters. “My Love Mine All Mine” is gothic country in an A-flat minor; with a tapestry of pedal steel, piano and delicate harmonics, the song is new territory for Mitski that is sublime, subtle and deeply entrenched in the warmest delicacies. —Matt Mitchell

19. The Beths: “Watching the Credits”

“Watching the Credits” could just be a one-off track, which seems likely, given that the Beths put out their best album, Expert in a Dying Field just last September. Nonetheless, the New Zealand rockers, yet again, flaunt their power-pop prowess. “Watching the Credits” is a terrific, heat-seeking missile of glittering guitars and steadfast percussion work. Frontwoman Elizabeth Stokes delivers a hypnotic vocal performance, while guitarist Jonathan Pearce unleashes a riffing wall of prismatic, face-melting chords. There’s imagery of cinema and soundtracks, of doubts and how endings move the compass needles of our life’s direction. “It’s just a story I don’t quite believe / Full of plot holes and constant monotony / Who’s going to root for this unlikable lead? / Not them, not me, not likely,” Stokes proclaims. What makes the Beths so good is not just their chemistry, but the fact that they can make a standalone single rock so heavily. It speaks to how they endure as one of the most exciting rock bands in the world right now. —Matt Mitchell

18. MJ Lenderman: “Rudolph”

The inaugural single from MJ Lenderman after signing with ANTI- Records, “Rudolph” is pure Southern-rock and power-pop that have alchemized into one gigantic, unforgettable track laced with an entrancing pedal-steel. Heavy riffs and full-bellied percussion roar alongside Lenderman’s waxing, hypnotic poetics that poke fun at Bob Dylan—as he is one of our best contemporary linguists, coiling slurring prose around the frame of a country track. “Deleted scene of Lightning McQueen blacked out at full speed,” he sings. “How many roads must a man walk down ‘til he learns he’s just a joke who flirts with the clergy nurse ‘til it burns?” As a follow-up to Boat Songs, it appears that Lenderman’s apex hasn’t dissipated one bit. The world is firmly his to spin into a colloquial palace. —Matt Mitchell

17. jaimie branch: “take over the world”

The lyrics of this last gasp tune that comes late in the running time of the late jaimie branch’s powerful posthumous album Fly or Die Fly or Die Fly or Die ((world war)) should be shouted from every rooftop and from the center of every protest happening around the world: “We’re gonna take over the world and give it back to the land.” Maybe not the easiest sentiment to turn into chant form, which is why it makes perfect sense for branch to stutter and stumble over the words as if she was fighting to get them out of her feverish soul. Not helping matters is her band’s punk-meets-Afrobeat plosives popping all around her like geyser bursts. The only appropriate response from branch are her loud war whoops and trumpet solos that sound like shouts coming from deep within the planet’s molten core. —Robert Ham

16. Kipp Stone: “Petrichor”

Kipp Stone’s 66689 BLVD Prequel floated under the radar this year, but it boasts one of the best rap tracks of 2023. The Cleveland MC is a master at brilliant, mountainous and arresting hip-hop, and “Petrichor” is the type of track that showcases Stone’s careful construction and magic touch—as he perfects a strong balance between deep reflection and stoic, hypnotic finesse. “Petrichor” is jazz-rap with a mellow bent, the genius is in the language, as Stone balances humility and humor in his verses. “I could find the beauty wherever you hide it, my biggest problem is that I don’t know my fuckin’ problem, toe the line between living and surviving, dying and revival, it’s levels to this shit and both sides getting fried crossing up the wires” bleeds into “How the hell you get culture shock at a Fat Burger? Ghetto shit, act rich, I’m a fast learner back-swerving,” and you can hear every part of Stone’s understanding of the world charging up at once—all with a piano-based melody unraveling beneath him. It’s slight yet profound. —Matt Mitchell

15. Yves Tumor: “Heaven Surrounds Us Like a Hood”

Yves Tumor’s latest LP, Praise A Lord Who Chews But Which Does Not Consume (Or Simply, Hot Between Worlds), was a godsend earlier this year. Many tracks from the project could have wound up on this list, but “Heaven Surrounds Us Like a Hood” has been the biggest standout with every listen. Tumor is fully on another level, blending shoegaze distortion with falsetto R&B that echoes For You-era Prince and My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless and, also, something generous, playful and lovingly fresh. “For a moment we became each other / We found a love that made us slowly fall apart / I see the color red in so many places / This world feels so ugly when life makes a fool of us,” they sing in a glistening, visceral, art-rock rainfall. —Matt Mitchell

14. Dean Johnson: “Shouldn’t Say Mine”

Each song tells a complete tale, and Dean Johnson’s debut album Nothing For Me, Please is without filler. At a concise nine chapters, the album rings in like a portrait of his life thus far, which makes sense, given that the oldest entry in the tracklist was written as long ago as 2004. Standout song “Shouldn’t Say Mine” is a pure acoustic bliss with soft rock percussion that perfectly compliments Johnson’s voice. The song could be in communion with anything from Sweet Baby James-era James Taylor or anything Jim Croce put out in the Nixon years. As a high-pitched piano rings out, Johnson laments: “I held you too tight, my weakness it showed / I was in your way trying to get close / You’re after my world, a rolling stone / Alright, alright, I’ll leave you alone / Too much and not enough, close enough to tear each other up.” Johnson is no longer Seattle’s best-kept secret. The honest, warm storytelling on Nothing For Me, Please is sure to gain him a few more fans, and for good reason: I’ll be returning to the enchantments of “Shouldn’t Say Mine” for many days to come, and I hope you will, too. —Matt Mitchell

13. Caroline Polachek: “Blood and Butter”

One of the year’s most exciting pop releases came back in February, with experimental pop and electronic artist Caroline Polachek’s Valentine’s Day offering of Desire, I Want To Turn Into You. The album had been a long time coming, with lead single “Bunny Is A Rider” released back in 2021. “Blood and Butter,” however, was the last single to be put out before the album, and I think it’s safe to say it’s the best thing she’s done, perhaps ever. Sweet and syncopated, the song plays to every one of Polachek’s artistic strengths. The verses have an exacting sonic consonance, with lyrics like “Layin’ at the foot of a linden / In the navel ring, inventing June,” punctuated by a tight, meticulous beat punching out. On the choruses, her elysian voice is able to sail through celestial notes and scales. She keeps us on our toes with a bagpipe solo, done by the brilliant Brighde Chaimbeu. This, as she calls it, is a “pastoral, psychedelic folk song” textured and meticulous, grooving in all the ways a perfect pop song should. —Madelyn Dawson

12. Hurray for the Riff Raff: “Alibi”

“Alibi,” the lead single from Hurray for the Riff Raff’s forthcoming 2024 album The Past is Still Alive, is one of the best country tracks of 2023. Alynda Segarra’s vocals arrive with a pensive twang worn-in and worn-out, as they mine for common ground, for plain-spoken understanding with someone whose days are numbered. “You know that time can take you for a ride, can take you by surprise,” they sing. “Maybe you’ll roll snake eyes. Baby tell me why you gotta play your luck. Two aces, call your bluff. I love you very much, and all that other stuff.” The whole record was recorded a month after Segarra lost their father, and “Alibi” arrives as a gut-wrenching portrait of memory, addiction, loss and distance between kin inspired by everything from Eileen Myles’ writing and relics of a New York City Hurray for the Riff Raff has left behind but can’t fully shed. —Matt Mitchell

11. Bernice: “No Effort to Exist”

The best electronic album of the year belongs to Toronto trio Bernice, whose LP Cruisin’ absolutely stunned in April. Likewise, its centerpiece song “No Effort to Exist” is a miraculous construction of three minutes, packed with glitchy, warbling keys and jazz-instructed tangents. The melody arose from a relaxation aid vocalist Robin Dann would use on her rescue dog Sammi, and she surfs across a current of glitzy, solemn production, singing “The bird in the evening just exists, and he flies over me, he flies over me” in a twinkling mezzo soprano. “No Effort to Exist” conjures Beverly Glenn-Copeland’s “Ever New” and contemporary folk urgency, and the textures are as colorful and awing as they are deep and devastating. Dann’s voice is the glue, and Bernice have written themselves a perfect pop song. —Matt Mitchell

10. Kelela: “Holier”

While much of Raven is a lesson in timeless dance music, Kelela enters a completely unique orbit on “Holier.” Rather than tumble into an affectionate beat, the R&B experimentalist places full focus on the celestial body of her own vocal range. Disorienting breakbeats are thrown out the window, as Kelela works through atmospheric, widened synths and a throbbing, distorted bassline that is almost too muted to even pick up on—as if she’s dueting with field recordings from the cosmos. “Though it troubles my heart, don’t want to cover the scar,” she sings. The song is stark, nurturing and tranquil, as the falling resolution is one of ambient bliss and sublime awakening. —Matt Mitchell

9. Atka: “Lenny”

German singer/songwriter Atka only has four songs out in the world—but they’re all stupendous, spectral masterworks. Her second single, “Lenny,” is glitchy and catchy and marauding. From her debut EP The Eye Against The Ashen Sky, the song radiates danceable anxiety with electronics that boast drum machine work not too far removed from The National’s Sleep Well Beast era. But even then, Atka distills an idiosyncratic, postmodern vibrato into her singing—which then transforms into this colorful, visceral melody. “Lenny” is triumphant and unforgettable and lyrically piercing. “You scream ‘Grow up!’ yet you sit there, frozen in time,” Atka sings. “I love you but you are bored, say you have nothing to gain from this.” There’s boldness and then there’s “Lenny,” which outpaces any such colloquialism. The glitz of Atka’s world is undefinable yet marvelous. —Matt Mitchell

8. ANOHNI and the Johnsons: “Scapegoat”

There has been only one musical moment this year that stopped me dead in my tracks—made me put down what I was doing and fully experience what I was hearing for the first time—and that was the introductory verse of ANOHNI and the Johnsons’ “Scapegoat”: “You’re so killable / Just so killable / It’s not personal / It’s just the way you were born.” Wielding one of the most recognizable voices of music’s last few decades, ANOHNI lays out trans people’s daily fight to prove their personhood to callous oppressors, poking holes in their lack of empathy by tackling the interaction from their perspective. Pulling formal inspiration from the political soul and jazz greats of the last century (think “What’s Going On” or “Mississippi Goddam”), the album’s centerpiece track channels their spirit brilliantly in a blend of terror and hesitant hope for the future. Building upon the spare instrumental of that intro, the track works itself up into a climactic explosion of light, letting a soaring guitar break transform that first threat of “it’s not personal” into ANOHNI’s own battlecry. —Elise Soutar

7. Florry: “Drunk and High”

The opening riot from Florry’s recent LP The Holey Bible begins with an assertion: “Pull the car over, I gotta puke,” Sheridan Frances Arthur Medosch cries out with a bevy of bandmate voices wrapped around theirs. “You’re no good at driving high, kick me out the door as soon as we stop, I’m not tryna mess up my ride.” Florry are Philadelphia down to the bone, yet their new album is, just maybe, the most intoxicating country release of 2023 altogether. The project is catalyzed by “Drunk and High,” the lead track that is, through and through, an absolute trip. It conjures the best and rawest touchstones of the golden era of country-rock, and through Medosch and John Murray’s dueling guitar work, the song roars. It’s emphatic, moving storytelling that is as familiar as it is dreamlike. When Florry sing about blowing chunks on the side of the road, you want an invitation to that party. They make it seem like the coolest, nastiest thing in the world. “Drunk and High” is an anthem, and anything with a fiddle in it is good in my book. —Matt Mitchell

6. Jim Legxacy: “block hug”

Jim Legxacy is no stranger to genre-hopping. As a singer, rapper and producer, the Londoner fuses Midwest emo, Jersey club, Afrobeats and hip-hop across his latest mixtape, the masterful homeless n***a pop music. Nowhere does he better showcase his wide gamut of influences than on “block hug.” After crooning over melodic guitar samples for less than a minute, a trap beat enters the fold, its booming, straight rhythm juxtaposing the triplet-based guitars underneath it. Legxacy’s lovelorn musings eventually give way to a flat-out drill section. “How can I bite a hand that fed, man / I never had a hand that fed, man,” he raps. How Legxacy moves so deftly in and out of genres is a pure marvel; there’s no else quite doing it like he is. —Grant Sharples

5. Wednesday: “Chosen to Deserve”

If you’ve ever tumbled through a world where a fast-food restaurant is one of the top hangout spots—or left high-school dances to go vape in friends’ basements—there’s a language that Karly Hartzman employs across Rat Saw God that is niche to outsiders but biblical to those in on the joke. “I used to drink ‘til I threw up at my parents’ house / My friends all took Benadryl ‘til they could see shit crawlin’ up the walls / One of those times my friend took a little too much / He had to get his stomach pumped,” she sings. It’s a track spearheaded by Xandy Chelmis’ country-drunk lap steel where—atop the gauze of her and Jake Lenderman’s dueting, Lynyrd Skynyrd-evoking, power-pop guitar riffs—Hartzman unleashes a psalm of coarseness no western outlaw would dare speak of. —Matt Mitchell

4. McKinley Dixon: “Beloved! Paradise! Jazz!?”

The title track from McKinley Dixon’s Beloved! Paradise! Jazz!? finds the MC blurring narrative lines, as he reflects on the freedom of growing up in a neighborhood with the people he loved most. “Beloved! Paradise! Jazz!?” is a bottle of poised language delivered in sharp, colloquial verses soundtracked by vivid jazz-rap. “The house is crumblin’ / Hurry out the backdoor, boltin’ / The rubber recently reset my bones / Black skin to concrete / Within it, I feel at home,” Dixon muses, as the track swells into a saxophone-led jazz concerto featuring vocals from one of his longtime collaborators: Ms. Jaylin Brown. In “Chain Sooo Heavy” two years ago, Dixon rapped: “Orchestrate the way we live / Maneuver through the pain that they give / You stronger than what they say you is / Little man, this chain will make you big / It’ll change your life for better or worse.” This time, he returns with “And though they all go / Me and dawg might see different heavens / Time alone has never once been a crutch / The worst thing for a god is you realizing they can be touched / Saw me aiming at the heavens, sun can’t give me a kiss” on “Beloved! Paradise! Jazz!?” The reality he portrays comes from a place of sincerity coupled with clarity and growth. Though he often sings about his adjacency to the ground—a great, overwhelming metaphor for a burial he and his Black kinfolk are always outrunning—Dixon cannot help but fantasize about becoming so big he can snatch paradise from the sky. To always be on the doorstep of a next day erased, it is second-nature to conceptualize perennial faith into the now and suffering into a bygone. —Matt Mitchell

3. Ratboys: “Morning Zoo”

The fifth single from Ratboys’ The Window, is the very best. “Morning Zoo” is the post-country masterpiece that will surely become a definitive track of 2023 across the board when it’s all said and done. The violin that Abby Gundersen injects into the instrumental is mesmerizing and unreal, and it perfectly compliments Julia Steiner’s twangy, precise and zoomed-in vocals—as she examines her own anxieties and the weight of being in a band at a time when it’s becoming harder and harder to find successful longevity as a touring musician, an unbearable truth that’s become even more crucial in the months since The Window came out in August. “How long does it take to find the peace that I want?” Steiner sings. “And how long must I wait to decide that it’s over? Well, I don’t know.” Though it juxtaposes greatly with the epic, mountainous unfurling of “Black Earth, Wi,” “Morning Zoo” glitters just as brightly, perhaps even more so. —Matt Mitchell

2. Dawn Richard: “Babe Ruth”

Dawn Richard’s “Babe Ruth” is the epitome of a dance track that’s built to last, but even that designation feels like an inadequate label to pin on it. The song lives in so many different worlds that it’s practically its own microcosm of cosmic R&B. “Babe Ruth” is glitchy, harmonious and confident. Richard herself goes from rapping about being the “home run hitter, originator, the juice” to laying down soulful vocal runs about being as great as the Sultan of Swat or, as a later verse suggests, the candy bar. “Got the chocolate, got more nuts than n****s out here,” goes her flow. “I keep the sweet tooth fed, give Michelin head, I deserve the bread. Keep you full, big-bellied, enough said.” “Babe Ruth” is a braggadocious rollercoaster of epic, firecracker instrumentation. It’s soul, house, alt-rock and hip-hop all rolled into one grandiose exorcism of dense club euphoria. Any future songwriters who have goals to transcend genre ought to look to Dawn Richard for the blueprint; “Babe Ruth” runs circles around any preconceptions about what blurring rhythmic lines should or shouldn’t sound like. It’s the kind of song that belongs in a museum. —Matt Mitchell

1. Sufjan Stevens: “Shit Talk”

Normally, a #1 song of the year is a moment etched in time, an offering that is the quintessential portrayal of a 12-month span and what we’re meant to look back on in order to remember our moods, triumphs and tastes during bygone eras of our lives. However, this year’s crown-jewel is so singular that it very well may be one of the greatest songs of the decade, if not this millennium. Sufjan Stevens’ “Shit Talk,” the penultimate track on his new album Javelin, is a holy affair drenched in gut-wrenching tumult and grief. At every turn, the arrangements grow in grandiosity yet Stevens’ singing remains steadfast. It’s like hearing an opus get constructed in real time. Across Javelin, he weaves an ecosystem of work that climaxes into hope and resolve—except for during “Shit Talk,” which is full of immense and damning pain and regret. Backed by the harmonics of Pauline De Lassus and the guitar-playing of The National’s Bryce Dessner, the eight-minute concerto echoes everything haunting and shaking that comes when you lose a soulmate before getting to say everything you possibly could to each other. As the track nears a lyrical close, the voices repeat “I don’t wanna fight at all” over and over until then, at the drop of a hat, Stevens’ voice returns alone, singing “I will always love you.” In a world buoyed by emotive moments in music, the resolve of “Shit Talk” is unlike anything we’ve heard in a long, long time. —Matt Mitchell

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Listen to a playlist of these 100 songs below.