Best New Songs (February 20, 2025)
Don't miss these great tracks.
Photo by Dennis Larance
At Paste Music, we’re listening to so many new tunes on any given day, we barely have any time to listen to each other. Nevertheless, every week we can swing it, we take stock of the previous seven days’ best new songs, delivering a weekly playlist of our favorites. Check out this week’s material, in alphabetical order. (You can check out an ongoing playlist of every best new songs pick of 2025 here.)
Bon Iver: “Everything Is Peaceful Love”
Rejoice! Justin Vernon, the one true king of folktronica, returns in April with SABLE, fABLE. It’s been a long six years for us Bon Iver fans. We’ve waited patiently while he’s hopped around on features (to be fair that Charli xcx collab was amazing), and we’ve stuck close to the classics during his album absence. Sometimes though, putting on “Holocene” or “Beach Baby” just leaves me longing for a new Bon Iver album even more. Thankfully, that wait is finally over, as last week Vernon announced his fifth full-length LP, due out April 11 via Jagjaguwar. That announcement came packaged with “Everything Is Peaceful Love,” a delicate benediction that finds Vernon both more intimate and joyous than ever before. Between his gossamer fingerpicked guitar, warbled synths, and the distant heartbeat of drums, the track feels like a return to the tender minimalism of For Emma, Forever Ago, only with all the spectral textures and electronic flourishes of 22, A Million still flickering in the periphery. The Bon Iver falsetto makes a triumphant return as well as Vernon sings out the refrain, “And damn if I’m not climbin’ up a tree right now / And everything is peaceful love, and right in me / And I know that we may go and change someday / I couldn’t rightly say, as we’re parting ways.” The entire song plays like a personal mantra—a newfound outlook on life that Vernon is shouldering; one that shouts for new beginnings and internal change as the first step towards true love. —Gavyn Green
Daithí: “Valentine!”
Valentine’s Day may be over, but romance is in fashion year round. Or, as the sample goes on Irish multi-instrumentalist Daithí’s new single: “Valentine / You know it’s not too late.” “Valentine!” is the sort of heart-thudding synth track that you can imagine playing on a dimly lit dancefloor as you finally lock eyes with the person you’ve been hoping to talk to all night. It’s thrumming with anticipation, the buzzing, insistent waves of synth building over Italo-disco drums towards something ineffable and overwhelming—the rush of new love. “Valentine!” sounds like it would be right at home on the soundtrack of a hopeful A24 love story, and for good reason—Daithí has expanded beyond his electro-pop offerings into film scoring, most recently for the Irish language movie Aontas. But we’ll be honest—hearing the soaring, starry-eyed “Valentine!” has us hoping he’ll put out more solo work this year. —Clare Martin
Fust: “Mountain Language”
There’s a song on Fust’s new album, Big Ugly, that’s called “Mountain Language” and it’s got a line in it—the Shakespearian “Oh what country, friends, is this?”—that chews on the idea of mountains being a “place away from something,” according to Aaron Dowdy, or a place inhabited by orthodoxy yet out of place and long without update. The Guyandotte River in West Virginia is like that, in how its tract of land goes nowhere and maybe the people who live near it can’t even call the water by its name. It’s about as perfect a setting for a Fust tune as any other place—overlooked “because they seem out of the way, or they seem not responsible for the major movements going on in America.” Bob Dylan once said, “You could listen to Woody Guthrie songs and actually learn how to live.” And I always liked that phrase, because, to me, it speaks to the transcendence of art and how it can move the needle even when some of us think it can’t. I mean, that is a Fust record. That is “Mountain Language.” —Matt Mitchell
Read: “Fust: The Best of What’s Next”
Lonnie Holley: “That’s Not Art, That’s Not Music”
“Excuse me,” interrupts Lonnie Holley at the top of his new single, “That’s Not Art, That’s Not Music,” a polite intonation over a mesmerizing combination of marimba, flute, and vocals from the Legendary Ingramettes. “Excuse me,” he repeats. A few moments later, that ethereal soundscape peaks with a flute flourish and then transforms into something darker, more aggressive, built almost entirely around that stark marimba line. The accompanying music video cuts to a close-up on Holley’s face, eyes wide and staring straight into your soul, as he says, patronizing and severe: “That’s not art. That’s not music,” his delivery so pitch-perfect it manages to make the viewer themselves feel small. The song is nearly four minutes long, we’re only 45 seconds in; but reader, I genuinely do not think I could even bring myself to blink for the entire remainder of the track. I felt stuck in place, unable to look away from the artfully timed cuts of the video (featuring gorgeous photographs of Holley’s own visual art to boot), held there by the sheer force of the sonic world surrounding me. The song is both a sneering takedown of the way art world institutions look down on Black art (“We don’t have no reason / To have to play that in our homes / That’s not art / That’s not music”) and a devastatingly raw account of the dehumanizing effect that has on Black artists (“Here I stand / Emotionally hurt / Physically deserted / Rejected / Neglected”), and it’s utterly effective on both counts. “That’s Not Art, That’s Not Music” is arresting in a way only Lonnie Holley has perfected, commanding your full attention and enveloping you in a song that is not only incredible art, not only incredible music, but a wholesale experience to boot, one that borders on transcendent. —Casey Epstein-Gross
Read: “Lonnie Holley: A Cruel Childhood, An Artful Life”
Mamalarky: “#1 Best of All Time”
I actively avoid playing board games—not because I don’t like them, or I’m not good at them, but because I’m hyper-competitive and I’d hate for my friends to see the snarling, out-for-blood side of me. I don’t like that version of myself, the one with her teeth clenched and hands balled into fists under the table as my pal surpasses my Scrabble score. But maybe I just need to reframe things; Mamalarky’s lead singer Livvy Bennett is similarly a fierce competitor (her game of choice is UNO), but she sees herself as her main opponent. “I always feel like I’m competing against myself, trying to best my last attempt at whatever I’ve set out to do. Like, you probably can’t be the best of all time, but you’ll always be the best you of all time—no one can dispute that,” she explains, and with that logic in mind, Mamalarky’s new single “#1 Best of All Time” was born. Between the skittering drums, winding basslines and Bennett’s sky-high vocals, the song sounds like an underappreciated Broadcast B-side. There’s a sense of perpetual motion on the track as the band careens pell-mell towards a devastating loss or victory, depending on how you look at things. After all, as Bennett imparts, “Marathon runner I place last / However I felt just as fast.” There’s no doubt in my mind that their new album Hex Key, out via Epitaph Records on April 11, has the makings of a winner. —Clare Martin
McKinley Dixon ft. Quelle Chris & Anjimile: “Sugar Water”
If there’s one thing we can rely on amidst the chaos of our current hellscape, it’s McKinley Dixon putting out a phenomenal jazz rap album every two years like clockwork, and thank God for that. We named his 2023 record Beloved! Paradise! Jazz!? the third-best of the year, and just a few months ago, his 2021 magnum opus For My Mama and Anyone Who Look Like Her topped our list of the best albums released in the 2020s so far—and it’s 2025 now, so you know what that means: Dixon’s fifth studio record, Magic, Alive!, is finally visible on the horizon. Honestly, I didn’t think I could be more hyped for its release than I already was, but then I heard lead single “Sugar Water,” and now I stand corrected. According to Dixon, the song explores the fleeting nature of the moments that make up life, and how those lost to us weigh heavily even as we stride forward. As he says in a press release: “It raises the question, ‘What’s the price to pay for an eternal life lived through others’ memories?’”
I shouted out Panchiko last month when they released “Shandy in the Graveyard,” the second single off their new album Ginkgo, due out April 4 via Nettwerk. I talked about the band’s once in a lifetime rediscovery, how they emerged from the shadows of obscurity and spurred a reunion two decades in the making, and how they’re gearing up for their official label debut. Now, Panchiko is back with their latest offering, “Honeycomb,” a shimmering single woven with thick threads of nostalgia and just a touch of ‘90s era noise. Lead singer Owain Davies invites us to lay down and kick back amidst his ethereal melodies, beckoning out into a kaleidoscopic dreamscape where past and present coalesce—gifting listeners a place to lose themselves in labyrinthine beauty. He sings, “Honey, comb your hair / As it catches the sun / I don’t need your fuss or flesh / Tempting as you know it is.” Having thoroughly rummaged through Panchiko’s discography, “Honeycomb” shines as a confident and mature reprisal of the band’s innate adolescence. They certainly retain an aura of cryptic allure, but they’re now prepared to step into the limelight as an evolved version of the mysterious band that first captivated the digital underground. —Gavyn Green
Considering the crop of contemporary musicians we have, I’d argue that Perfume Genius is one of the few living artists that is, undoubtedly, an all-time great. He’s never made a bad album, and his upcoming release, Glory, will not break the streak. Coming after “It’s a Mirror” last month, new single “No Front Teeth” ups the ante on Mike Hadreas’ turn towards slow-burn art-pop. Hadreas calls upon Aldous Harding, an artist more than capable of matching his freak and running the current landscape of pop music like a navy, to provide additional vocals, and “No Front Teeth” takes its time climaxing, edging the listener into this explosive tapestry of Blake Mills’ synthesizers and Meg Duffy and Greg Uhlmann’s guitars. And then, of course, there is Harding’s voice, which gives new life to the word “duet” and gracefully amplifies Hadreas’. “No Front Teeth” oscillates between moods, turning pop hopelessness into a broken-winged dove coloring misery with euphoria. —Matt Mitchell
About two weeks ago, Sabrina Carpenter won a few Grammys for her great, great pop album, Short ‘N Sweet. So, naturally, she put out a deluxe edition of it, releasing four new tracks and a “Please Please Please” remix featuring Dolly Parton. But I would like to point your compass at “15 Minutes,” a song so good it’s immediately better than 75% of the original album. Once again, the combination of Carpenter and Amy Allen is among the best active songwriting matches. Together, they capitalize on the former’s ability to sell an innuendo better than almost anyone else. “I can do a lot with 15 minutes, only gonna take two to make you finish” is just one of the many vibrant, sticky lyrics that ups the voltage on Rob Moose’s torrential downpour of strings and John Ryan’s country of programmed instrumentation. Don’t sleep on Julian Bunetta’s thumping bassline, either. A song like this makes for a perfect curtain call on Carpenter’s chart-topping and award-winning breakout era. —Matt Mitchell
What’s in the water over there in Brooklyn? New Yorkers making good music is nothing new, but just within the last several months, there’s been a deluge of excellent releases from a tight-knit circle of artsy, often-folksy and always-cerebral singer-songwriters in the aforementioned borough (assigned listening: the latest from Adeline Hotel, Office Culture and The Bird Calls, respectively). Another up-and-coming Brooklynite worth watching is Derek Weaving, who releases music under his last name and recently began teasing his debut solo album, Webs (clever, eh?). Weaving aptly shared “Moon,” his second single, on Valentine’s Day; sprawling across five-and-a-half minutes, the track materializes and luxuriates in the altered reality that new love conjures—that sense that the world turns in slow-motion when a paramour turns their gazes one’s way. The synth-kissed baroque-pop gem is unmistakably a fruit of the musical community that nurtured it: The recording’s lushness is a trademark touch of producer Ryan Weiner (Office Culture, The Bird Calls), and fellow locals Alana Spanger (also formerly of Tiny Hazard), Little Mystery’s Ivy Meissner and Lip Talk’s Sarah Pedinotti are to thank for the dreamy harmonies. Webs is out next month via Charlie Kaplan’s (of Office Culture) label, Glamour Gowns, and it is a real delight. Until its release, there’s plenty of bliss to be found in spending some time on the moon, sighing along with Weaving’s tender musings as they dissolve into stardust. —Anna Pichler
If you asked any number of Will Johnson fans which of his projects was their gateway into his music, you’d likely hear as many answers: There’s the hearty country-rock of Centro-Matic, the aching beauty of his sparser solo albums, the dynamic collaborations with peers like Jason Molina and