Top 15 Songs of 2025
It's that time of year again. It doesn't feel like that long ago since I sat down and worked through a list last year. Eventually, crowning 'Favourite' by Fontaines D.C, my song of 2024.
This list has gone through a couple of revisions, but I think I'm finally settled on my Top 15 songs of the year.
So here goes.
15. Stereophonics- There's Always Going to be Something
Stereophonics released their thirteenth studio album, 'Make ’Em Laugh, Make ’Em Cry, Make ’Em Wait', in April this year. As a complete body of work, I found it fairly underwhelming. A record that never quite hits the emotional or melodic highs of their best releases. That said, its lead single is one of my favourite things the band have done in quite some time: a perfectly judged slice of indie melancholy that reminds you exactly why Stereophonics have endured.
It’s classic Stereophonics, and that familiarity is precisely why it works. After several recent records that saw the band attempting to reinvent themselves, often with mixed and uneven results, this feels like a conscious return to what they do best. Strong, emotive songwriting, a slow-burning build, and a chorus designed to be shouted back by thousands. Going back to basics has resulted in a genuinely brilliant single and a ready-made live anthem.
The song doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but it doesn’t need to. There’s a warmth and comfort in its sound, a sense that you’ve heard this band do something similar before and do it well. You could easily imagine it sitting comfortably on one of their early-2000s records, yet it also wouldn’t feel out of place alongside more recent material like 'Kind'. That balance between nostalgia and relevance is something Stereophonics still manage better than most of their peers.
Unsurprisingly, the track slotted seamlessly into the setlist on the 'Stadium Anthems' tour this summer, holding its own alongside bona fide Stereophonics classics. It never felt like the “new song” moment; instead, it landed with the confidence of something already familiar, already loved. Definitely worthy of its place on this list.
It’s a song that’s stayed in my rotation for most of the year, and a clear standout from an otherwise fairly meh collection of tracks. Proof that even when an album disappoints, Stereophonics can still deliver moments that remind you why they matter.
14. The Last Dinner Party- This is the Killer Speaking
When The Last Dinner Party dropped the lead single from their second album, 'From the Pyre', it felt like a genuine statement, not just of intent, but of confidence. This wasn’t a band scrambling to follow up early success or soften their edges; it was a declaration that they hadn’t gone anywhere, and more importantly, that they know exactly how good they are at what they do.
An operatic, atmospheric masterpiece, the track leans confidently into theatrical grandeur while still nodding to contemporary pop heavyweights like Chappell Roan and Sabrina Carpenter. There’s an arena-ready chorus built for dramatic lighting cues, riffs bold enough to make Brian May crack a smile, and a sweeping sense of scale that never feels indulgent. The way the song glides between genres, rock, pop, and something far more cinematic, feels effortless, as though it was always meant to sound this way.
With their debut album 'Prelude to Ecstasy', the band made it clear they were operating on a different level to most of their peers. This song ups the ante once again. It’s darker and more menacing in tone, yet paradoxically more concise and driven, channelling its drama with far greater precision. Where the debut revelled in excess, this feels controlled, focused, and all the more powerful for it. Believe me, it’s very, very good.
While researching this post, I came across a line that perfectly encapsulates the track, and if this doesn’t tempt you into pressing play, I’m not sure what will: “After scaling success with their debut, the temptation to become more accessible and more radio-ready must loom. But ‘This Is the Killer Speaking’ goes even further into theatrics. Like if Kate Bush wrote a theme tune for a western flick, it merges the group’s cinematic inspirations with a perfect balance of feminine and masculine soundscapes.”
It’s an audacious, thrilling piece of music, and further proof that The Last Dinner Party aren’t just living up to the hype, they’re actively outgrowing it.
13. CMAT- Euro Country
CMAT has had quite the year. With the release of her third album, she drew one of the biggest crowds at Glastonbury in the summer. A set on the Friday that drew thousands to watch her and her ensemble, blasting through some of her most loved songs including 'Have Fun!', the pop-tastic ‘Take A Sexy Picture Of Me’, complete with everyone having a go at that viral ‘woke Macarena’ dance and generate one of the biggest sing alongs of the weekend with 'Running/Planning'.
One song that didn’t make CMAT’s Glastonbury set, however, was the opening and title track of her latest album, ‘EURO-COUNTRY’. Released just weeks after the biggest show of her career, the track explores the economic downturn that gripped Ireland following the 2008 financial crash.
The song opens with an Irish-language introduction and unfolds as a reflection on post–Celtic Tiger Ireland. CMAT revisits the fallout of the crash from the perspective of her younger self, a child growing up in a small town, feeling detached from her cultural identity. That sense of dislocation mirrors Ireland’s own struggle to reconcile its past with a shiny, consumerist, globalised future as a so-called “Euro Country.” Throughout the song, she namechecks figures spanning Irish mythology and pop culture: the legendary warrior Cú Chulainn, English television personality Kerry Katona, and Bertie Ahern, the taoiseach whose legacy remains fiercely debated. CMAT has been openly critical of Ahern in the past, once vowing that it was her “personal fucking mission to make sure that he doesn’t win.”
This is one of the darkest pieces CMAT has ever written. She references suicide (“I was 12 when the das started killing themselves all around me”) alongside snapshots of childhood alienation (“All the mooching ’round shops, and the lack of identity”). Yet these heavy themes are delivered with her distinctive yodel-tinged vocals and a wash of Lana Del Rey–esque melancholia. For all its gloom, the song is also one of her catchiest; the chorus lingers long after it ends. The juxtaposition of these images is what sets the song apart; there's humour and brutal honesty. The funny nature of her songwriting sits alongside some home truths
Thompson’s anger and heartbreak cut through layers of electric guitar and organ, practically shouting at “all the big boys / all the Berties” who, in her view, helped warp the Ireland she once recognised. What remains is a romanticised national image propped up by pop-cultural exports—from Sally Rooney adaptations to the international success of Irish actors. Despite the grit of its subject matter, the song still soars emotionally, anchored by the simple yet striking hook: “My Euro-Euro-Euro Country (the mam and the dad) / My Euro-Euro-Euro Country (the present is past).”
When 30 years ago, Ireland’s musical scene was one brimming with politics and protest, here we see that mantle being picked up again, reflecting society after it came out the other side.
In an interview discussing the financial crash and its influence on the song, CMAT stated, “I was about 12, and it all happened around me; it didn’t really happen to my family directly. My dad had a job in computers. We didn’t really have any money; we weren’t affluent, but we were fine. Everybody else on the estate we lived in worked in construction or in shops, and they all lost their jobs. Everybody became unemployed. Then, in the village I grew up in, there was a year or 18 months where loads of the people I went to school with, their dads started killing themselves because they’d lost everything in the crash.”
It's an exceptional piece of music, and has been on heavy rotation for me the last few months.
12. The Royston Club- The Ballad of Glen Campbell
I think a lot of fans of The Royston Club quietly worried about how the band would follow up such a brilliant debut record. The expectations were high, and understandably so. Thankfully, it’s safe to say that 'Songs for the Spine' doesn’t just meet those expectations; in many ways, it surpasses them.
Leaning into subtlety and sharpening their already impressive songwriting, the album feels purposeful and assured. There’s a clear sense of ambition running through it: this is a band consciously writing bigger songs, designed for bigger rooms, with one eye firmly on climbing festival bills. Rather than losing their identity in the process, The Royston Club sound more focused and confident than ever.
It’s the rare second album that manages to feel both like a natural progression and a genuine step forward. 'Songs for the Spine' captures a band growing in real time, refining their sound, trusting their instincts, and proving they’re more than capable of carrying the momentum they’ve built so far.
'The Ballad of Glen Campbell' brings the album to a close, and it’s an exceptional final statement. A far more cinematic effort than anything The Royston Club had released previously, the track is built around a sparse piano arrangement and anchored by an emotive, understated vocal from frontman Tom Faithful. It’s the kind of song few would have predicted from a band better known for letting snarling riffs and punky drums do the talking, both on their debut and across much of this album’s earlier singles.
That’s exactly why it works so well. The song marks a clear turning point, revealing a band unafraid to strip things back and trust the strength of their songwriting. It’s a bold and welcome change of pace, closing the record with maturity, restraint, and real emotional weight.
This is a genuinely brilliant song, and one that feels destined to remain in The Royston Club’s setlists for a very, very long time.
11. Pulp- Spike Island
Following in the footsteps of Blur, Pulp released a new album this year. Its lead single 'Spike Island' was the pick of the tracks though.
A song that saw the band cast a wary eye on their 90s fame, Jarvis Cocker make his second reference to the legendary Stone Roses gig at Spike Island in 1990 and suggests that this reunion and its attention is a good thing. Cocker declares in the first line, "I was born to perform, it's a calling."
Of all the alt-rock artists hoisted to mainstream fame in the Britpop era, they were the ones who seemed least comfortable with the kind of attention it brought them: a perennially ignored band who’d spent a decade striving to get somewhere, only to find they didn’t much like it when they did. Something of the prickly, confrontational outsider clung to them even at the zenith of their success – 1995’s quadruple-platinum Different Class is an album packed with waspish, witty ruminations on the British class system – while 1998’s This Is Hardcore offered a paranoid and occasionally harrowing examination of their era as celebrities, something its dense, doomy sound also helped to draw to a close.
The band use the Stone Roses show as a metaphor for disappointment and the way that nostalgia seems to always make things better by burnishing our memory. The fact that Spike Island was famously badly organised, musically underwhelming and plagued by terrible sound hasn’t stopped it subsequently developing a legendary status as a kind of baggy-era Woodstock.
It's an exceptional song full of moments of self-reflection and acute downbeat self-awareness from Cocker. “I was conforming to a cosmic design, I was playing to type”), and the indifference Pulp’s disbanding was greeted with in the early 00s, when a theoretically valedictory greatest hits album barely scraped the Top 75: “The universe shrugged and moved on”.
But Cocker seems emboldened at the prospect of his own second coming. He suggests that “this time I’ll get it right” and that he has “walked back to the garden of earthly delights”. He sings happily: “I was born to perform, it’s a calling / I exist to do this – shouting and pointing”.
It's classic Pulp, and it's one of my favourite songs of the year. If this had been released in 1995, not 2025, it would have no doubt been a huge hit.
10. The Clause- Don't Blink
The Clause released their debut album this year. A collection of songs that sees a band grappling with youth, identity, their past and future. 'Don't Blink' is the album's closing song, and it's exceptional.
A song that portrays what it's like being young and working class in 2025. It's a similar style of song to 'A Certain Romance', where the band comments on their friends and peers.
"Brass kids fill themselves with stem, from smart whips and sugar-coated nicotine."
"The bars are filled with could-have-beens, and FA rejects plagued with dodgy knees."
"Half the kids from secondary are shifting gear to make ends meet"
"Stop holding onto small things and chasing yesterday".
"There's kids in bars with acoustic guitars, singing urban songs of praise."
On an album full of youthful anthems, this one stands out above the rest. This is the perfect song to close out their debut album. A 5 and half minute indie banger that will soundtrack a new generation of indie kids.
9. Gorillaz (feat. Sparks)- The Happy Dictator
After a couple of years away, Gorillaz returned in September with the announcement of 'The Mountain', their first new release since 'Cracker Island' in 2023. Lead single 'The Happy Dictator' immediately set the tone, with Damon Albarn teaming up with 80s pop legends Sparks to create a euphoric, synth-laced anthem. It’s classic Albarn at heart, but dressed in a distinctly retro sheen.
The track unmistakably sounds like Gorillaz, yet Sparks’ presence is felt throughout. Rather than one artist overpowering the other, both work in perfect tandem to create something that feels unique while remaining effortlessly catchy. Sparks establish the theatrical, almost divine tone, allowing Albarn to weave in his trademark muffled, spoken-word delivery, offset beautifully by the cleaner, soaring highs of the Mael brothers. They play the role of deities as Albarn explores “the palace of your mind”, and a strange, almost unsettling spiritual fervour runs through 'The Happy Dictator'.
Crucial to this latest effort from the ever-evolving virtual band is how deftly it walks the line between catchy and creative. Beneath the glossy, synth-adjacent instrumental lies a more contemplative core, a search for meaning within the minds of others, wrapped in irony and dark humour. It strikes a perfect balance between the values Gorillaz have held since their self-titled debut and the enduring thrill of Sparks’ late-career renaissance.
It’s one of the most anthemic and euphoric Gorillaz songs ever recorded, and a near-perfect choice for a comeback. A genuinely joyous piece of music that brilliantly juxtaposes Albarn’s dark, ironic lyricism with an irresistible sense of optimism.
Speaking about the song, Albarn revealed it was inspired by a trip he took with his daughter, Missy, to Turkmenistan, where he learned about the late dictator Saparmurat Niyazov, who renamed himself Türkmenbaşy, meaning “Head of all Turkmen”. His decree that citizens should think only happy thoughts, while banning all negative news, provides the chilling real-world backdrop that gives 'The Happy Dictator' its bite.
8. Tame Impala- Piece of Heaven
I've been a little critical of the fifth Tame Imapla effort, 'Deadbeat', I think it's a real mixed bag, and not all of the songs work. However, 'Piece of Heaven' is not only the best song on that record, it's one of the best things he's ever done.
Over a synth beat, with nods to Enya, he lays himself and his feelings bare. The songwriting on this song is the best on the album. It nods to his poppier side and has some Tame Impala nuances, which firmly show the world just how good Kevin Parker can be.
The outro, with the detached vocals over a melancholic piano, is so different to anything else on 'Deadbeat' and anything else he's done before.
The album is full of Kevin's melancholy, but in this song, he lays it bare, and it doesn't get lost in a groove or a new idea that doesn't work. After my very first listen, I knew how good this song was.
On an album with some good, some awful, this one stands out as a truly great Tame Impala song. I cannot wait to hear it live.
7. Red Rum Club- American Nights & English Mornings
Red Rum Club have been a constant presence in my record collection for several years now, and this year saw the release of their fifth album, 'BUCK'. Lead single 'American Nights & English Mornings' is classic Red Rum Club: a short, sharp indie-pop banger that wastes no time getting to the point.
Packed with momentum and topped off with one of the biggest choruses they’ve written to date, the track leans into everything the band do best, infectious melodies, breezy charm, and an undeniable feel-good energy. It’s the kind of song that sounds tailor-made for festival afternoons and packed sing-alongs, instantly familiar yet still fresh.
If 'BUCK' needed a calling card, this was the perfect choice. A confident, punchy statement from a band who know exactly who they are and continue to refine their sound without losing any of the joy along the way.
6. Peace- Good Jeans
It took them a while, a couple of years in fact, but Peace finally released 'Utopia' onto streaming services in October, and with that came the release of 'Good Jeans'.
A synth-led, indie pop banger complete with three glockenspeil solos and one of this year's most cathcy choruses.
It opens the record, and it sounds like a more mature version of Peace. Still with those feelings of youthful excess and optimism. “By the grace of God, I’m going out again", they promise, and we believe them; we buy into the thrill, too. Its jangling chords, chug-a-chug riff, and twinkling guitars evoke some of that early Peace magic.
On 'Good Jeans', despite being two members down, Peace sound as good as ever. If this had been 2015, and not 2025, I have no doubt this would have been a hit. It's a very, very good indie song.
I hope that Peace continue to make new music, they've done things on their terms for the last couple of years, and it seems to have worked for them. Fingers crossed, they can take this feeling and push it into new music.
For now, though, we will need to make do with 'Utopia' and the brilliant 'Good Jeans'
5. The Royston Club- Cariad
'Songs from the Spine' is an outstanding record, a confident, emotionally rich follow-up to an exceptional debut. I’ve already touched on the album’s closing track, but its true centrepiece is 'Cariad', the moment where everything clicks into place. It’s the first point on the record where listeners are allowed to properly breathe, creating space without sacrificing momentum. That said, this is no downtrodden acoustic ballad.
Instead, 'Cariad' unfolds as a fully fledged, widescreen epic, a love song built on scale, sincerity, and emotional weight. Named after the Welsh term of endearment, the track captures the rush and vulnerability of being hopelessly in love. “All of these pictures of you and I / Plastered on the hallways of my mind,” Tom Faithfull sings, delivering one of his most evocative lines to date. It reveals a softer, more exposed side to the band, perfectly summed up by the admission: “I’m not a lucky man / But, darling, you had me fooled.”
There’s something timeless about 'Cariad'. It feels destined to soundtrack Valentine’s Day playlists, late-night indie discos, packed arenas, and sun-drenched festival fields for years to come. Exceptionally written, emotionally powerful, and disarmingly honest, it’s a song that’s been on repeat almost constantly since the moment it landed.
This is a triumphant statement from Britain’s next great band. The Royston Club feel poised for something special, stratospheric, even. Think Fontaines D.C., think Wunderhorse. The Royston Club are next in line.
4. Wolf Alice- White Horses
I’ve made no secret of my love for Wolf Alice, and their return this year has been nothing short of spectacular. With more and more people recognising just how brilliant they are, and a UK arena tour still to come, the band’s momentum is only set to grow.
'White Horses' was released as the third single from The Clearing, and it marks a special moment: drummer Joel Amey takes lead vocals for the first time since My Love Is Cool’s ‘Swallowtail’. The track is a heartfelt reflection on heritage, identity, and family, delivered with a sincerity that resonates immediately. Crisp, rustic instrumentation supports one of the album’s biggest, most soaring choruses, creating a song that has been on heavy rotation for me since its release.
It’s a confident and celebratory piece, a moment when the questioning quiets down, and Joel chooses to embrace contentment with his family and who he is. What makes it feel so fresh is its intimacy: this is just the four members of Wolf Alice, playing together tighter than ever.
There’s a sense of peace threaded throughout The Clearing. After navigating the turbulence of their twenties, the band now exudes self-assurance and quiet confidence. 'White Horses' is a perfect snapshot of that growth, intimate, joyful, and utterly moving, a testament to Wolf Alice’s evolution both as musicians and as people. The track highlights their ability to balance vulnerability with strength, blending reflective lyrics with dynamic instrumentation that feels effortlessly cohesive. It’s a moment that captures not only personal maturation but also the band’s collective synergy, showing that years of experience, experimentation, and introspection have culminated in a sound that is both expansive and profoundly human. In a career defined by restless creativity, this song feels like the calm at the centre of their storm, a reminder that Wolf Alice can be monumental without ever losing touch with the deeply personal.
3. Inhaler- A Question of You
Inhaler found their mojo on album number three. Once described by Sam Fender as “alternative pop,” they’ve fully embraced a sleeker, more evolved version of themselves on 'Open Wide'.
‘A Question of You’ perfectly bridges the old and the new Inhaler. Built for muddy festival fields, it boasts a massive, infectious chorus that’s guaranteed to get crowds moving. Yet beneath the anthemic surface lies subtlety, restraint in the riffs, a measured approach to production, and a spaciousness that allows the song to breathe. Inhaler has clearly moved beyond wanting to be defined by a single sound or moment, and Open Wide makes that ambition crystal clear.
This record feels freer than their previous releases, with a renewed confidence threading through both ‘A Question of You’ and the album as a whole. It’s the sound of a band no longer chasing an identity but fully owning it, sharper, tighter, and more assured than ever. There’s a maturity here that’s as much about emotional clarity as musical growth: each riff, each lyric, feels intentional, honed, and effortlessly memorable. With its perfect balance of energy and control, this song is destined to remain a highlight of their live setlists for years to come, a reminder that Inhaler are stepping boldly into the next stage of their career.
2. Sam Fender- Little Bit Closer
Sam Fender's third album, 'People Watching', is one of the best records of this year. Picking up where he left off with 'Seventeen Going Under'. 'People Watching' explores the lives of those he has encountered, both at home and beyond. The album delves into themes of working-class struggles, tragedy, fame, and more. Through this record, Sam reflects on the lives of his loved ones and peers from the perspective of someone who has managed to break free from the constraints of his working-class upbringing.
'Little Bit Closer' is one of the most anthemic tracks on the record, with a massive chorus and a War on Drugs, Springsteen feel; however, this is firmly a Sam Fender effort. Despite the anthemic feel, there are some of Sam's hardest-hitting lyrics to date, both about himself and the world he and his friends and family find themselves in.
A Britain, where grassroots venues are closing down at a rapid rate, indicating the decline of culture, the cost-of-living crisis has resulted in security tags being placed on boxes of butter and a rental crisis that’s not only suffocating young people’s creative pursuits but also their ability to form community. This grey portrait of Britain is the centre point of 'People Watching'
'Little Bit Closer' paints some of the most vivid landscapes of modern Britain and sees Sam question organised faith and religion.
"They break you in like a wild foal
Target the dole queue broken souls"
"Oh, I have friends who were cast aside
A young, meek lad with a curious mind
Just terrified of what the church would have to say
No, I don't know if I believe in Him
But when the rapture comes, if this is a sin
I'll burn with everybody that I know"
Despite his religious scepticism, Fender finds something beautiful in the connections people share.
"I don't buy the deities spoke of
But, in love, there's something to hold
And I get a little bit closer to it"
Fender finds a little bit of the divine in the power of love: in those moments of closeness, of understanding, of being there for each other.
It's a highlight of a brilliant album.
Honourable Mention: Geese- Taxes
I'll be the first to admit that I joined the Geese party late. I'd seen the band's cover of New Radicals 'You Get What You Give', on social media and passed it by. Then, when doing some reading, I found that the NME had crowned 'Getting Killed' the band's third album as their album of the year.
I thought I'd give it a listen, and well! It's an exceptional record. There are a few standout moments, '100 Horses', the title track 'Getting Killed' and 'Trinidad' all stuck out to me, but 'Taxes'.
'Taxes' is an exceptional record. Full of swagger, intent, and a forboding menace. “If you want me to pay my taxes,” rasps Winter over falsetto backing vocals and syncopated drums, “You better come over with a crucifix / You’re gonna have to nail me down.”
It amazed me at just what they manage to do in the confines of a three-minute indie pop song. Starting with tribal drums and folk-like acoustic guitars, intertwined together. Before becoming a chiming indie festival anthem, around a guitar topline that could have been pulled from a Stone Roses record.
Throughout the whole record, the sense of spirituality and menace comes with each track. Sometimes that comes with the delivery of Cameron Winter's vocals, and with 'Taxes' it also comes from the words he's saying.
There’s so much going on in this album that it feels like it would have been easy for the five-piece to lose sight of the bigger picture, yet for all its abrupt shifts and intricate details, ‘Getting Killed’ somehow doesn’t ever feel like there’s too much at play or like its creators aren’t in complete control.
A brilliant song.
1. Wolf Alice- Bloom Baby Bloom
The first single from 'The Clearing' and one of the very best comeback singles ever. 'Bloom Baby Bloom' is one of the most accomplished efforts to date. A thrilling, larger-than-life effort, and bold declaration of intent by a band who know just how good they are. This feels different from the previous three efforts because they aren’t holding back. Ellie Roswell’s voice becomes an instrument; it’s full of little flourishes and goes through stages. One moment, she soars like a choir, and the next, she confronts and twists into something so much darker.
We’ve heard Wolf Alice go full-pelt into rock bangers before, but ‘Bloom Baby Bloom’ takes a different tack compared to the sludgy ‘Visions Of A Life’ or the brittle, breakneck punk of ‘Play The Greatest Hits’. Here, they pull from the ’70s palette of russet and harvest gold-hued sounds, warm and rich, even when Ellie Rowsell is giving us her raspiest yell over the top. It’s splashy and full of little flourishes: Joff Oddie’s twiddling guitar solo, a brief drum splatter from Joel Amey, and Theo Ellis’ bassline that pierces through the pre-chorus.
Rowsell, meanwhile, has never sounded more incredible, pushing her vocals to their most beautiful one moment, then contorting them and twisting them the next. Each syllable is packed with emotion and expression; nothing wasted, every utterance taking you deeper into the heart of the song. When she sings “Fucking baby, baby man” in the first verse, she sings “Fuck” as if through an enormous exasperated sigh before slipping straight back into a tremulous falsetto. Later, when she first tells us she’s “so sick and tired of trying to play it hard”, she expertly makes all-consuming frustration sound divine.
‘Bloom Baby Bloom’ is a fitting song for Wolf Alice to return with. It speaks to coming into your own, rising up through the chaos of life and emerging completely sure of yourself. “But I bloom, baby bloom / Watch me, and you’ll see just what I’m worth,” Rowsell declares, serenely self-assured. “Yes, I bloom, baby bloom / Every flower needs to neighbour with the dirt.”
After three albums of building and expanding their world, and experiencing the ups and downs of the music industry, it feels like the band are ready to stake their claim as one of their generation’s most important acts. Now, Wolf Alice are undoubtedly in full bloom.