The 10 Best Songs of February 2025

Japanese Breakfast: “Mega Circuit”

The alt-country train has picked up another passenger today, and a surprising one at that: Michelle Zauner, better known as Japanese Breakfast, leans into her rural Oregonian upbringing on her new single “Mega Circuit.” With shuffling drums from legendary percussionist Jim Keltner (heard on hits like “Dream Weaver” and “Here You Come Again”) and droopy pangs of pedal steel, this song serves up a country-fried version of Japanese Breakfast and yet another peek at Zauner’s upcoming album For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women). She explains, “‘Mega Circuit’ was one of the first songs I wrote, intent on making a creepier, more guitar driven record. The song is sort of an examination of contemporary masculinity, and explores a conflicted desire to embrace a generation that in the absence of positive role models has found refuge in violence and bigotry.” Frankly, this song couldn’t arrive at a more apt moment. “Deep in the soft hearts of young boys so pissed off and jaded / Carrying dull prayers of old men cutting holier truths,” she sings, calling to mind all the frustrated people who misplace their anger. Using both empathy and biting wit, Zauner reminds us yet again why she is such a brilliant songwriter. —Clare Martin

Jenny Hval: “To be a rose”

I had never listened to Norwegian artist Jenny Hval until I moved into my new apartment and a friend of mine asked what I’d like as a housewarming gift. I requested an album that would make me think of her every time I listened to it, and in return I received Hval’s elusive, haunting concept album Blood Bitch. I’ve been a fervent fan of Hval’s ever since, and her new single (from her upcoming album, Iris Silver Mist, due out May 2 via 4AD) “To be a rose” proves to me once again that she is the type of artist who is as surprising as she is cool. Over bouncy drum machine and rattling percussion, she sings lackadaisically of cigarettes, roses and her mother. Brass comes in every now and then, faraway like a siren, and tinny synth twirls in the background. The experimental, spoken-word vibe is distinctly reminiscent of “Launderette”-era Vivien Goldman, before careening back towards a more traditional melodic build on the soaring chorus. “‘To be a rose’ was written as a restless pop structure,” Hval explains. “It has a chorus, with chords and a melody, but each chorus sounds slightly different, like we are experiencing the melody from different seasons, decades or even different bodies. The clichéd rose metaphor in the song is equally restless. It can change shape into a cigarette, and then evaporate to smoke.” —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?’”

As reflective and melancholic as the subject matter might be, “Sugar Water” itself is vibrant, bursting at the seams with colorful instrumentation (featuring illuminati hotties’ Sarah Tuzdin on guitar) and bright percussion. It scratches an itch in my brain I didn’t even know existed, as Dixon’s fervent flow spins stories of friends both found and lost: “Sun been getting its revenge / Feel the heat, you hear it buzzing,” he raps. “How we raise him from the ground? / Type shit discussing with my cousin.” And if all that wasn’t enough, the track also features some brilliant features: the chorus is buoyed by folk singer Anijimile’s effervescently warm vocals, and Dixon passes the mic to Detroit rapper Quelle Chris in the third verse, whose characteristic nasal pitch churns out bar after bar, as well (“My big bro told me every song you make is a picture of forever, dawg / And once you let it out and spread it round like aerosol / We speak your name up like you famous bro, you never lost”). Considering both this song and Dixon’s immaculate track record, I’m already saving a hypothetical spot for him on my mental AOTY list now. —Casey Epstein-Gross

Read: “Entering the Kingdom of McKinley Dixon”

Model/Actriz: “Cinderella”

I was late to the party on Model/Actriz, but I eventually figured it out, and we named their debut album Dogsbody one of the best of 2023. Songs like “Donkey Show” and “Mosquito” were full of noise and charisma, turning Biblical plagues into high body counts and messy, hilarious plagues of provocation—all thanks to frontman Cole Haden’s, as our writer Madelyn Dawson so perfectly framed it, “sinister eroticism.” I’ve been waiting on the Brooklyn band’s second album, Pirouette, ever since, and Haden returned last month with a vocal pulling from the same queer, strobing physique that Dogbody made fucked-up, widescreen and divine. I can hear his body roll and contort through every note of “Cinderella,” a feat rarely achieved by anyone, let alone 1/4th of a post-punk band from New York City. The track is industrial, clubby and sensationally hedonistic, reeking of sex and bumps while building towards a climax like a hydrogen bomb slowly leaking. Desire is its own beast on “Cinderella,” and Haden’s words cut into me—lines like “I notice you are gentle by the way your posture is so elegant,” “In your eyes, I am naked, screaming like a tornado in the dark” and “You make me want to be ready” drip off of his tongue and onto mine. Pleasure sounds ugly in the company of “Cinderella”; it’s a song that demands something more alive than that. —Matt Mitchell

My Morning Jacket: “Squid Ink”

It’s a rare treat when My Morning Jacket decides to crank up their amps and dive headfirst into a riff. The band’s periodic embodiment of rock ‘n’ roll spirit has yielded some of my favorite tracks, namely the live version of “Off The Record” from their 2006 album Okonokos (the energy in that opening guitar line is truly magnificent and something I dream of seeing one day), as well as cuts like “Anytime,” “I’m Amazed” and “Holdin On To Black Metal.” Still, MMJ have defined their sound not off of lofty, ripping guitar riffs, but through Jim James’ reverb-soaked vocals and the band’s southern-style, brake-pad instrumentals. Their last single, “Time Waited” was a clear highlight of the latter, announcing the band’s 10th studio album, is, through a wistful yet explosive piano ballad. Last month, the Louisville rockers returned with “Squid Ink,” swinging the pendulum back to a full-throttle, alt-rock romp. The song revolves around lead guitarist Carl Broemel and his acute talent for creating captivating yet simple melodies within every fuzzed out note he plays. The riff is totally Jimmy Page-coded, with all the heaviness and groove of Zeppelin circa Led Zeppelin III. “Squid Ink” is just begging to be played live—which works out well because My Morning Jacket goes on tour this April, and as is shapes up to be an album equally tender and wild, I can’t wait to see how they bring each song to life on the big stage. —Gavyn Green

Perfume Genius ft. Aldous Harding: “No Front Teeth”

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