The Best Songs of 2024 (So Far)

“Surfing on a Tsunami,” Future

Yes, fine, Future keeps rapping about the same thing (girls, drugs, depression over how much money he is/isn’t spending). But who cares when it sounds this good? —Alex Suskind

“Wavy Navy University,” Babyface Ray feat. Veeze

Ray and Veeze pull off the near-impossible (rapping their asses off over a sample of Britney Spears’s “Toxic” before getting it cleared by Britney’s team). —A.S.

“Coloured Concrete,” Nemahsis

A pop-ish/rock-ish anthem with late-aughts Santigold energy. The hook will claw its way into your brain and never leave. —A.S.

“booboo,” Yaeji

Yaeji’s new Jersey-club cut is the year’s catchiest bust-a-move instruction manual (“Dance and shake your booty from the left to the right,” “You know the right amount of space / To spread open your wings wide”) and a commentary on the young producer’s rise to fame. After her 2017 track “Raingurl” led to her breakout moment, Yaeji felt she needed to take some time away from clubbing (“You know that I wasn’t really ready at the time” she sings). With respect to her excellent but more downtempo 2023 album, With a Hammer, it’s good to have her back on the dance floor. —A.S.

“Hell 99,” Foxing

If you’re gonna curse in a song, you’ve gotta make it count — like Foxing’s Conor Murphy does in “Hell 99,” screaming “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” at the top of his lungs. He has a lot more to yell about too: “Told myself there has to be a better quality of suffering,” he sings. “There has to be fatigue worthy of something but there’s nothing.” Once the song fades into feedback, there’s no respite. Murphy just sounds exhausted, wondering, “Is this all that there is?” —Justin Curto

“Get Still,” Alan Sparhawk

The gorgeous “Get Still” sees Sparhawk exploring grief through glitches, sawtooth waves, and an absurd amount of Auto-Tune. —A.S.

“Finer Things,” Post Malone featuring Hank Williams Jr.

Post Malone may be new to country music, but he’s not new to a brag track. On “Finer Things,” he’s traded the girls and drugs for caviar with his catfish and designer pistols. But this is still a Post Malone song, too: “Plat’num on my teeth / Wagyu on my grill,” he grins. Yeah, it sounds like Posty’s enjoying the country life. And it’s infectious — even 75-year-old Hank Williams Jr. loosens up, singing about swigging thousand-dollar bourbon from a Solo cup and blasting his dad’s music at the lake. —Justin Curto

“No One Else,” Elias Rønnenfelt

Iceage’s Elias Rønnenfelt sings in a slurred growl that often sounds like he’s a few drinks deeper than you. But strip his band’s rock symphonies down to just a few strummed guitars, like on his new solo song “No One Else,” and Rønnenfelt now sounds anguished. “Her kisses truly sweet like no one else / But I couldn’t keep my fingers to myself,” he sings, the pain in that seemingly invincible voice now on full display. —J.C.

“problem,” Cash Cobain

“Problem” is like a buffet for sexy-drill fans: 14 MCs rapping progressively libidinous bars across eight minutes over a twitchy Laila flip. Highlights include Rob49 asking whether “you tryna cry in a Rolls-Royce or a Camry”; Flee yelling, “I’m a slut! I’m a freak!”; and Flo Milli being Flo Milli (rapping, “I know hoes hate my guts, but I guess that’s not my problem”). —A.S.

“Active,” Asake featuring Travis Scott

Asake is restless. Having risen in the Afrobeats ranks and conquered amapiano, he’s searching for something new on Lungu Boy. “Active” is one of his most fruitful discoveries, blending Nigerian fuji, New Orleans bounce, and Travis Scott’s Houston trap. The propulsive beat sounds instantly club bound (Mike Dean co-produced), and Scott sounds especially comfortable, rapping a perky, proficient verse. It’s Asake who’s in unfamiliar territory, but even so, he’s all cool: “And if my success dey disturb you, go recover,” he warns. —J.C.

“Continuum 1,” Nala Sinephro

A quiet snare roll, a meandering saxophone, and a bleep-bloop synth riff come together to form the beautifully bewitching opener to multi-instrumentalist Nala Sinephro’s Endlessness. —A.S.

“It’s Rough on Rats (If You’re Asking),” Jack White

For all those eccentric, indelible turns of phrase, Jack White still doesn’t get enough credit as a lyricist. (What other rocker even knows the word lazaretto?) So as awesome as it is to hear him shredding again on surprise album No Name, let’s take a moment to appreciate these fantastic lines: “As bad as we’ve got it / It sure must be rough on rats.” Yeah, he’s one of the only songwriters who would turn a song about how humans are destroying society and the planet into one about rodents — and top it off with a wailing garage-blues guitar solo. —J.C.

“Low Threshold,” Navy Blue

I wouldn’t go so far as to call “Low Threshold” a protest song, but it is refreshing to hear any artist today call out America’s fixation on using its citizen’s paychecks to bomb civilians abroad. “My tax dollar killing children and they mothers,” Navy Blue raps over a player-piano beat. “Fathers, aunties, cousins, uncles, all that / Guess it’s safe to say the bottom is the place to fall at.” For him, death in the news and in his own life haunts him like a specter: “Why does life feel like a hug and death is just a kiss? / Don’t you drift away from us and fall in that abyss.” —A.S.

“Catfish,” Doechii

One of the smoothest flows in rap, showcased over a distorted kick-snare-cymbal combo. Bonus points to Doechii for somehow rhyming “Ventura” with “jeweler” and “hoorah.” —A.S.

“Add Up My Love,” Clairo

On her third album, Charm, Clairo challenged herself to step out of her pensive, often somber comfort zone. She wanted to write songs that were more playful, but in reality, she found an even wider spectrum of emotion — including some delicious sass on the standout “Add Up My Love.” Facing a floundering relationship, Clairo decides to lean into not only her sadness, but her anger. “Was it enough?” she asks her counterpart, pounding the piano like mid-’70s Carole King. There’s disdain in that line, but the next verse packs cruel irony: “Do you miss all the ways I put you in your place? / You say you like all of my attitude.” —J.C.

“When I’m Called,” Jake Xerxes Fussell

Jake Xerxes Fussell is not a songwriter; he’s a song-finder. A trained folklorist, he often performs tunes he’s learned from mentors and field recordings. He can even turn a fisherman’s sales pitch into a song. “When I’m Called” pulls from a more contemporary artifact, a stray piece of writing seemingly from a student in detention. When Fussell sings the lines, after minutes of curling guitar, it sounds out of place: “I will not breakdance in the hall”? But Fussell delivers them with the same warm reverence as he would a song passed down for generations, before leading into a verse from the folk standard “Look Up Look Down That Long Lonesome Road.” It amounts to something mysterious yet moving, bringing new meaning to a century-old song about the passage of time. —J.C.

“Scooter Blues,” Johnny Blue Skies

Sturgill Simpson wanted to get away from it all. So for his new album, Passage du Desir, he didn’t just change his name — the modern country outlaw spent chunks of time living abroad. It worked. Simpson’s time in Thailand, riding his moped and opening a bar, inspired “Scooter Blues,” maybe the most laid-back track he’s ever cut. The song sounds like a blissed-out summer afternoon with Simpson channeling his best Jimmy Buffett as he dreams of fishing, tanning, and scootering around an island. Simpson contends with identity and death on some of Passage’s heavier moments, but here, he sounds content, even relieved: “When people say, ‘Are you him?’ I’ll say, ‘Not anymore.’” —J.C.

“Yayo,” Rema

Don’t call Rema a sellout. After making Afrobeats’ biggest crossover hit yet, he could’ve continued chasing the western mainstream. Instead, on new album Heis, Rema keeps his focus on stretching the genre. “Yayo” is a glowing example of the Afro-rave style he perfects on Heis — a pulsing, sweaty, bass-heavy track with an earworm hook that sounds best after midnight. —J.C.

“Lucky Sometimes,” Midland

Midland knows that little things can make a difference. Maybe it’s hitting a few green lights or winning a football parlay, as they sing about on “Lucky Sometimes,” or maybe it’s the song’s breathtaking howl of a harmonica. This is the trio’s old-fashioned country at its most charming, and it doesn’t take much — a crisp piano, a few acoustic guitars, and some heart-melting three-part harmonies. It’s a wonder this is the band’s first time crossing paths with Dave Cobb, a producer chasing their same classic sound. —J.C.

“She’s Leaving You,” MJ Lenderman

MJ Lenderman is fascinated with losing. He sang about being a “beat-down rodeo clown” and literally falling on his face on his 2022 breakout, Boat Songs; even “Dan Marino” focused on the Hall of Fame quarterback being replaced by Tom Brady on the Wheaties box. On “She’s Leaving You,” Lenderman has never made failure sound so good. His character is a sleazy faker who loves Clapton and Vegas and, as the title suggests, can’t keep a woman around. Not the kind of guy you might want to be singing about — until you hear that roaring chorus: “It falls apart / We all got work to do.” Cap it off with a coarse, Crazy Horse–esque guitar solo and you’ve got a winner of a song. —J.C.

“Si Antes Te Hubiera Conocido,” Karol G

Karol G approaches Latin music with a voracious appetite, making songs that draw far beyond the borders of her home country, Colombia. For “Si Antes Te Hubiera Conocido,” she was inspired to dip a toe into merengue after a trip to the Dominican Republic. “Surely, you would be dancing to this with me,” she sings in Spanish, wondering what life would’ve been like if she’d met her lover earlier. It’s the sunniest song of the year, all bounce and sweet melody. —J.C.

“TGIF,” GloRilla

Congrats to Glo for dropping 2024’s best pump-up song (hey, Rihanna agrees with me!) and its wildest nature-as-genitalia lyric. The world’s moose population will never be the same. —A.S.

“Put Em in the Fridge,” Peso Pluma feat. Cardi B

On his latest album, Éxodo, Peso Pluma is out to prove that he’s not just one of the biggest stars in música Mexicana — he’s a pop star. So on “Put Em in the Fridge,” he takes on one of pop’s biggest challenges by going toe-to-toe with Cardi B. Amazingly, he holds his own, spitting threats to his enemies and even rapping the hook in English, over a corrido-goes-trap beat full of squealing horns. Peso’s presence challenges Cardi, too, as she raps her best Spanglish verse yet (“En Jalisco ven mi culo y dicen, ‘Diablo, Cardi’” goes hard in any language). It’s an unrelenting two and a half minutes, and both performers come out bigger stars than before. —J.C.

“Big Boy,” Normani

The cards were stacked against a Normani debut album. After five years of false starts, fans had lost hope it would even arrive (Normani eventually chalked its absence up, at least partially, to her mother’s cancer diagnosis). That makes Dopamine’s existence a small miracle. It’s an even bigger one that it absolutely hits. Opener “Big Boy,” with its slap-heavy bass line, sharp Starrah ad-libs, and eff-the-haters lyrics (“Small change, turn them small pieces into big boys”), sets the tone. This isn’t the mainstream pop of Normani’s 2019 hit “Motivation.” It’s funkier, sexier, sleeker. —A.S.

“Please Please Please,” Sabrina Carpenter

“Espresso” finally has some song-of-summer competition — from Sabrina Carpenter herself. “Please Please Please,” the rising star’s follow-up, is somehow breezier and weirder than (and completely different from) her undeniable dance-pop hit. Carpenter plays a 21st-century Olivia Newton-John on the sun-kissed pop-country–ish song, pleading with a lover to not embarrass her. She packs the song with silly quotables with help from “Espresso” co-writer Amy Allen: “I know you’re cravin’ some fresh air, but the ceiling fan is so nice,” she sings with the pep of a cheerleader. And just like “Espresso,” this one’s all momentum too: Carpenter sticks the landing on a thrilling second-verse key change and Swiftian outro. —J.C.

“Death & Romance,” Magdalena Bay

For the first few years of their career, Magdalena Bay were overeager students of pop music, stuffing their music with styles and homages. Now, they’re quickly becoming masters themselves. “Death & Romance,” the presumed leadoff to a new album, is denser and sleeker than anything off their debut, Mercurial World. A house piano line grows into a full kaleidoscopic track, flourished with twinkly synths and groovy bass. The duo hasn’t lost their prog-rock roots, though, as Mica Tenenbaum sings from the perspective of a woman whose alien boyfriend has left her. The hook splits the difference between a perfect pop earworm and a prog declaration: “You know nothing is fair in death and romance.” —J.C.

“Pink Skies,” Zach Bryan

Zach Bryan is a matter-of-fact narrator for most of “Pink Skies,” setting a funeral (presumably for his late mother, DeAnn, whom he previously named a 2019 album after) to banjo and harmonica, before raising his voice for one striking line: “I bet God heard you coming!” But “Pink Skies” is mostly a testament to a life that continues to echo on Earth. Throughout the song, other memories rush back. Cleaning the house, Bryan sees childhood height markings on the wall, and the smell of the grass transports him to the day someone broke their arm on a swing. Bryan knows how loudly these moments speak, so he lets them. —J.C.

➽ Read Justin Curto on the country music being made outside of Nashville.

“Hang Tight Honey,” Lainey Wilson

Lainey Wilson played an unbelievable 180 shows last year. Thankfully, she’s got quite a bit to show for it — some No. 1 singles, two Entertainer of the Year trophies, and now, “Hang Tight Honey,” a steamy new love song dressed up as a road song. “Just know they’re singin’ along to all them songs I wrote about you,” Wilson sings with a smirk, before screaming guitars rev “Honey” into its overdrive chorus. She’s going to burn up more than a few stages with this. —J.C.

“Lunch,” Billie Eilish

Billie Eilish didn’t release singles ahead of her third album, Hit Me Hard and Soft, but she was hiding an obvious one in plain sight. With “Lunch,” Eilish gives one of her coolest performances yet, gliding over an ’80s New Wave–ish groove as she sings about a girl who seems, well, good enough to eat. “Taking pictures in the mirror / Oh my God, her skin’s so clear / Tell her, ‘Bring that over here,’” sings Eilish, balancing wide-eyed eagerness with sexy nonchalance. “Lunch” made headlines as Eilish’s first track about being with a woman, but beneath that, it’s just a charged-up pop song. —J.C.

➽ Read Craig Jenkins’s review of Billie Eilish’s Hit Me Hard and Soft.

“Delphinium Blue,” Cassandra Jenkins

Cassandra Jenkins recites the spoken hook to “Delphinium Blue” with an entrancing, eerie swagger, like she could be anything from a gang lackey to a housewife: “Chin up / Stay on task / Wash the windows / Count the cash.” Really, she’s working at a flower shop, as the title gives away. It’s a job Jenkins actually took, in a moment of confusion. But her daily duties began to feel mythic, she said, like she “was surrounded by a Greek chorus.” She translates that feeling to song on “Delphinium Blue,” backed by a plodding, cinematic track and, yes, even a choir. —J.C.

“Old Dutch,” Bonny Light Horseman

“Old Dutch,” from folk supergroup Bonny Light Horseman, is about two lovers struggling to verbalize their terrifyingly big feelings. “You know that you move me and I don’t know why,” sings Eric Johnson, best known for his indie-folk project Fruit Bats. The song doesn’t build toward any epiphany or resolution — instead, Bonny Light Horseman wants to make listeners feel the same way. So near the fourth minute, Johnson’s howl gives way to a singing crowd, recorded live in an Irish pub where the band tracked half their new double album. —J.C.

“The Last Year,” Jessica Pratt

Like the rest of her new album, Here in the Pitch, Jessica Pratt’s “The Last Year” feels like a visit from an old daydream — sweet, wistful, a tad melancholic. Over a gentle guitar riff and smokey reverb plucked straight from a ’60s soul track, she sings of a hopeful future: “You’d wonder if ever there’s been hope for me / I think it’s gonna be fine / I think we’re gonna be together / And the storyline goes forever.” In an era of recycled culture, Pratt’s vintage approach sounds refreshingly alive. —A.S.

“Love Me Not,” Ravyn Lenae

Ravyn Lenae’s early standouts like “Sticky” and “Free Room” were full of youthful playfulness — after all, the singer was only a teenager when she recorded them. After exploring a more mature, sultry sound on 2022’s Hypnos, she finds that levity again on “Love Me Not,” with help from a playground game. The single is springy throwback R&B: crisp drums, sly bass, and a good dose of reverb set against Lenae’s classically trained voice. —J.C.

“Baddy on the Floor,” Jamie xx feat. Honey Dijon

Jamie xx’s ears work differently. When most listeners hear Divine Styler’s boisterous hip-hop track “Ain’t Sayin’ Nothin’,” they gravitate toward that squealing horn, sampled from Motown’s Junior Walker and later made famous in House of Pain’s “Jump Around.” Not Jamie. He takes a few stray bars from Styler’s first verse and mashes, stretches, and loops them into the hook of this slick dance track: “Move your body on the floor.” With the blessing of house evangelist Honey Dijon and some slick piano and horns from Keni Burke’s forgotten “Let Somebody Love You,” that command becomes easy to follow. Where Jamie’s recent singles like “It’s So Good” have been dense and intricate constructions, “Baddy” shows that sometimes, just a few perfect sounds can be transportive. —J.C.

“Comin’ Around Again,” Amber Mark

Amber Mark’s first solo follow-up to her debut album is feel-good music to the max. Mark blends high-gloss turn-of-the-century R&B with a joyous gospel piano line and sunny Motown-esque songwriting for a love song that feels fresh yet genuinely timeless. (Okay, minus the one line about cell phones.) She’s maturing as a lyricist too, trading the clichés that could weigh down 2022’s Three Dimensions Deep for satisfying concision on lines like, “Let’s take it easy, no diamond, no pressure.” Falling in love has never sounded so smooth. —J.C.

“Dream State,” Kamasi Washington featuring André 3000

A meandering ambient-jazz sesh by two of the coolest people on the planet — one of whom has admitted to not knowing how to play his growing collection of flutes despite making an entirely new career phase out of it. You need that kind of blind confidence when you’re playing next to someone like Kamasi. André’s anti-textbook approach sounds like birdsong as the veteran saxophonist keeps a steady hand. —A.S.

“Self Sabotage,” Katie Pruitt

Katie Pruitt directs her most penetrating lyrics at herself. “I wish my head had a trapdoor / For when I need escaping,” she opens her song “Self Sabotage.” An early peak to Pruitt’s second album, Mantras, the song faces the negative thought patterns that inspired the record head-on. The anthem builds from a whimper to a full-throated cry, amplified by wailing electric guitars and pounding drums: “I’m not some narcissistic God / Abandon this self-sabotage.” Pruitt may fashion herself a folky country singer in the vein of her hero Brandi Carlile, but here she sounds closer to the exposed indie-rock songs of Julien Baker and Lucy Dacus.—J.C.

“Cheerleader,” Porter Robinson

Porter Robinson has grown a lot in three years. His last album, 2021’s Nurture, was marked by anxiety over following up his 2014 debut — a weight he carried for years before channeling it into a collection of explosive, life-affirming songs. On “Cheerleader,” the first single off a new album, Robinson sounds like he’s having fun again. It’s a slick turn from EDM to indie pop, like a Passion Pit song went to a rave: bubbly, bright, and loud. —J.C.

“Get It Sexyy,” Sexyy Red

Who’s writing better hooks right now than Sexyy Red? Over a brooding Tay Keith beat, the St. Louis rapper becomes her own cheerleader: “Walkin’ through the club lookin’ like a snack (But you knew that though)”; “Catch me slidin’ in a Benz”; “Go on, Sexyy, do your dance.” Like “SkeeYee” and “PoundTown” (and “Hellcat SRTs” and “Rich Babby Daddy”), everything here is quotable. —A.S.