Following their electrifying headline set at this year's Glastonbury Festival, I’ve put together my Top 10 songs by The 1975, a band that continues to redefine pop-rock with each release.
One of The 1975’s most underrated songs, this track hails from one of their strongest albums and wears its ‘80s influences proudly, all shimmering synths, smooth production, and that signature caramel sax solo that feels pulled from a dream. Yet despite its nostalgic palette, nothing about it feels recycled. It’s pure The 1975: emotionally raw, musically sophisticated, and endlessly replayable.
Lyrically, it's classic Matty Healy, witty, wounded, and self-aware. He meets a girl who might “rearrange my world,” only to watch it all unravel. “I thought it wasn’t love,” he sighs, the realisation arriving too late. The gut-punch comes soon after: “You got excited and now you find your girl / Won’t get you undressed or care about your beating chest.” It’s that jarring mix of blunt honesty and poetic sadness that hits hardest — the kind of line that sticks in your throat for hours after.
A sparkling melody lifts the heartbreak to despondent new heights, with the saxophone not just adding a touch of flair but transforming the track into something cinematic. It’s not just a breakup song, it’s a mood, a moment, a slow-motion memory.
That’s the tension that makes this track so quietly powerful: the juxtaposition of upbeat, almost danceable production with quietly devastating lyrics. The band leans into the gloss of '80s pop not for novelty, but as a tool for emotional storytelling. Matty’s vocals are full of restraint; he’s not belting out his pain; he’s sitting in it, letting it simmer just beneath the surface.
By the time The 1975 released 'Being Funny in a Foreign Language', they had already weathered their most eclectic and at times divisive release, 'Notes on a Conditional Form'. That record, sprawling and restless, was the sound of a band testing the outer limits of their identity. Add a global pandemic into the mix, and it’s no surprise their next chapter felt like a recalibration.
'Being Funny in a Foreign Language' isn’t just a tighter album; it’s emotionally sharper, sonically warmer, and more focused in its purpose. The band distilled their strengths into something leaner and more immediate, without losing the ambition or self-awareness that defines their work. And right at the heart of it sits 'Happiness' a euphoric, sparkling pop song that captures The 1975 in full technicolour.
From the opening groove, 'Happiness' bursts with movement. The rhythm section is elastic, the guitars chime and shimmer, and there’s a playfulness in Matty Healy’s delivery that feels both joyful and desperate like someone dancing while the floor gives way beneath them. Lyrically, he’s chasing connection, pleasure, and distraction in equal measure: “I’m happiest when I’m doing something that I know is good for me,” he sings, though you can sense the doubt hanging just behind the statement.
It’s that tension that makes the song so compelling. On the surface, it’s one of the band’s most accessible tracks, catchy, upbeat, and polished, but underneath, it’s still wrestling with the same existential threads that have always run through their music. Desire, self-sabotage, emotional distance, fleeting joy all wrapped up in a chorus you’ll be humming for days.
‘A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships’ contains some of the band's most well-loved songs but also some of their most underrated. ‘Inside Your Mind’ falls into the second category. Matty Healy is at his most sensitive, backed by a piano motif, with Adam Hann dissecting through the chorus with a rather unique riff.
The song sees the band at their most introspective and probably their most chilling. Exploring when love turns into obsession, the song's lyrical perspective goes from romantic longing to something far darker.
With lyrics like:
"… I've been watching you walk
I've been learning the way that you talk
The back of your head is at the front of my mind"
There's a juxtaposition between tenderness and psychological tension that lingers throughout.
Musically, 'Inside Your Mind' is a masterclass in restraint that shares comparisons with Radiohead, with jagged bursts of electric guitar that soundtrack Healy's twisted thoughts.
It's a 1975 song I never really hear people talk about, but it is one of my favourites.
A song from the band's debut album, and one of the fan favourites. An album known for its 80s influence, 'Menswear' is influenced by a 2000s band, and not one many would expect. The Streets.
Beginning with a meandering, almost megalthic instrumental section, muted bass, lazy drum loops and warm synths. Halfway through the song, Healy utters his first words, setting the scene. It's a wedding, seen through the eyes of a rather drunk protagonist. Who sees it all and is narrating what he sees to the listener.
"And free bar, that's the point
Spilling amaretto 'cause of previous joints
I'm sitting with a girl, fortunate placing
Preceding railing racket off a porcelain basin"
What makes 'Menswear' so striking is its commitment to the atmosphere and the story. The whole thing captures the setting of a wedding perfectly, the awkwardness, the arguments, the unspoken tension, the drink and the drugs. With no chorus or soaring hook, the song takes its form in a conversation.
It's deserving of its place on this list because, over a decade later, it still sounds brilliant, in the context of the debut album, it sounded unique, and it set the band up for their later experimentations.
Landing at number 6 is 'About You', the breathtaking penultimate track from Being Funny in a Foreign Language (2022). It’s a cinematic, shoegaze-tinged pop-rock ballad—sweeping, ethereal, and emotionally vast that feels like a haunting echo of 'Robbers.' Yet where that song sizzles with tension, “About You” drifts in a dreamy haze, carried by warbling guitar loops and Carly Holt’s spectral guest vocals on the chorus: “Do you think I have forgotten / About you?”
The song’s production, featuring string arrangements by Warren Ellis, imbues it with a gothic, almost cinematic tension. Matty Healy himself described Ellis’s touch as giving the track “moving, weird distortion,” crafting a soundscape where love feels both romantic and unsettling.
Beyond its studio grandeur, “About You” took on new life live: it closed out The 1975’s headlining set at Glastonbury 2025, swelling to an epic finale as the band embraced on stage an emotional, cinematic ending to the band's biggest performance.
In this countdown, 'About You' holds a special place not for big hooks or sing-along choruses, but for its ability to feel infinite, emotionally resonant, and hauntingly unforgettable.
This position was a difficult one to pick. I kept flicking between these two songs, the other one that was up for nomination will be mentioned later on as an honourable mention. ‘If You’re Too Shy (Let Me Know)’ is a track that captures The 1975 at their most extroverted and euphoric. Released in 2020 as part of ‘Notes on a Conditional Form’, it’s a dazzling fusion of ’80s nostalgia and modern pop polish, packed with glittering guitar riffs, soaring saxophone solos, and a chorus that hits like a tidal wave.
From the first shimmering notes, ‘If You’re Too Shy’ feels like a rush of cold air on a summer night—immediate, refreshing, and exhilarating. Lyrically, it’s playful and flirty, chronicling a digital-age romance that exists half in screens and half in fantasy. Matty Healy delivers every line with just the right mix of charm and cheek, riding a groove that’s impossible to sit still through.
The song’s structure is pure pop perfection: verse, pre-chorus, and then that chorus explosive yet effortlessly smooth. The saxophone break in the middle doesn’t just nod to ’80s power ballads; it practically rips a hole through the song, giving the listener a moment of pure, unfiltered euphoria.
The lyrical theme of ‘If You’re Too Shy (Let Me Know)’ is essentially about digital-age desire and flirtation, mixing lighthearted romantic chase with the more voyeuristic, modern reality of online intimacy.
At its core, the song tells the story of someone building a connection with a person they’ve met online, flirting, fantasising, and wanting to push the relationship further, but with a playful awareness of the awkwardness in doing so.
Live, it’s a communal celebration, arms in the air, lyrics shouted back with joy. On record, it’s a meticulously crafted pop high that never loses its sparkle. In a discography full of genre experiments and introspective detours, ‘If You’re Too Shy’ stands out as one of the band’s most unabashedly fun and instantly gratifying moments.
It's brilliant.
At number 4, we have ‘The 1975’, the opening track from the band’s 2022 album ‘Being Funny in a Foreign Language’. Every 1975 album begins with a song of the same name, but this version is unlike its predecessors. Gone are the glitchy electronics of 2013, the politically charged manifesto of 2018, or the atmospheric sprawl of 2020. Instead, this ‘The 1975’ is stripped back to bare piano, placing Matty Healy’s voice front and centre for one of the band’s most self-aware and quietly devastating moments.
Lyrically, it’s part confessional, part social commentary. Healy delivers a tumbling stream of observations on internet addiction, performative politics, parasocial relationships, and his flaws without the protective layer of irony that often coats his writing. It’s raw, intimate, and almost uncomfortable in its honesty. Lines like “I’m sorry if you’re living and you’re 17” cut through with a mix of humour and melancholy, setting the tone for an album that’s both deeply personal and sharply observational.
There’s also a clear nod to LCD Soundsystem, both in the spoken-sung delivery and the way the lyrics read like a list of fleeting cultural moments and anxieties. Much like James Murphy at his most candid, Healy blends wit and weariness, turning the banal and the absurd into something unexpectedly profound.
Musically, the minimal arrangement lets the lyrics breathe. Just gentle, looping piano chords and the occasional swell of strings, it’s almost hymn-like, but the sermon here is messy, human, and deeply modern. By opening the album this way, the band invites the listener into a different kind of space: one where you’re not dancing or daydreaming, but sitting across the table, hearing everything laid bare.
In the context of the band’s top songs, ‘The 1975’ earns its high ranking not for its hooks or grandeur, but for its bravery. It’s proof that The 1975 can still surprise us, even within a tradition they’ve repeated for a decade.
The 1975 ventured into uncharted territory with their 2018 album, 'A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships', the band tapped into a collective consciousness of a new generation of people. Writing an album that summed up the thoughts and feelings of that time. 'Love It If We Made It' is arguably for many fans the album's defining moment. With its bold lyrics, pulsating rhythm, and uniquely hopeful message wrapped in critique, the song has cemented itself as one of the band’s enduring works.
Released during a period of rising political and social turmoil was on the rise globally, 'Love It If We Made It' reflects a moment of profound uncertainty. Lead singer Matty Healy has been vocal about the fact that much of the inspiration for the track came from his own frustrations with the state of the world, amplified by the role of media and the rise of digital culture.
This song feels like a timestamp for 2018 but, more broadly, encapsulates a recurring theme in human history: the struggle to make sense of a world in chaos and the hope for collective progress despite everything.
A no-holds-barred state of address, the track tackles everything from police brutality to internet stan culture and even the refugee crisis, all within the confines of a pop song. Healy’s lyrics read like a stream of consciousness, a flood of headlines, tweets, and fragments of conversations that many of us consume daily. The song touches on racism, police brutality, environmental decline, political corruption, and the erosion of truth in the age of social media.
Yet amid the biting commentary, the refrain of “Love it if we made it” rings like a mantra, a glimmer of hope amid the disillusionment. In interviews, Healy described the song as a “cathartic scream” – a way of expressing the anger and sadness of a generation, yet with the hope that somehow, we’ll find a way through.
The song's video brings the lyrics to life, with a montage of photos and videos that tie into the lyrics. With references to Michael Jackson, Kanye West, 9/11, the London Riots, Alan Kurdî and Grenfell among others. Acting as almost an addition to the song, overwhelming the listener, similar to how modern media often does.
The combination of pop elements with more abrasive themes is something The 1975 has explored before, but here it reaches new heights. Healy’s voice – sometimes sardonic, sometimes sincere – drives home the feeling of emotional overload, a sensation many listeners can relate to in the information-saturated age. The band are part of the "MTV Generation" and grew up with some of the very best pop music ever, and this song is not only a powerful, emotive speech about the state of the world, but it is also a brilliantly crafted piece of pop music.
Taking the runner-up spot is ‘Give Yourself a Try’, the lead single from 2018’s ‘A Brief Inquiry into Online Relationships’. From its very first seconds, a jagged, looping guitar riff inspired by Joy Division’s ‘Disorder’, it’s clear this is The 1975 in a new era. Gone are the lush synthscapes of their debut; in their place is something raw, abrasive, and immediate.
Lyrically, it’s part pep talk, part generational snapshot. Matty Healy addresses the listener directly, weaving through reflections on ageing, mental health, self-doubt, and the strange process of figuring out who you are. Lines like “You learn a couple things when you get to my age / Like friends don’t lie” are delivered with a mix of cynicism and warmth, perfectly encapsulating the album’s balance of sincerity and knowing humour.
The song’s thematic core is simple yet profound: even amid chaos, regret, and uncertainty, there’s value in simply trying. It’s not framed as a triumphant victory lap, but as an act of resilience, a messy, imperfect step forward.
Musically, the repetitive, buzzing guitar riff becomes almost hypnotic, anchoring the track while the lyrics spill out in a stream-of-consciousness flow. George Daniel’s tight drumming keeps the urgency up, while the production stays deliberately unpolished, adding to the song’s sense of urgency and authenticity. In the live setting, ‘Give Yourself a Try’ is a shot of pure adrenaline, fans shouting the lyrics back, the guitar stabbing through the air, Matty leaning into the chaos. On record, it’s a mission statement for a band unafraid to evolve, even if it means alienating expectations.
At number 2, it stands as one of The 1975’s most important songs not just for what it says, but for how boldly it reintroduced them to the world.
I couldn't do a list about The 1975 and not mention 'The Sound', that would be wrong. This was the song that I was weighing up putting at number 5, and in the end, 'If You're Too Shy' just edged it.
It deserves a shoutout, as it's still one of the band's most infectious and playful songs. Released on their 2016 album ‘I Like It When You Sleep, for You Are So Beautiful yet So Unaware of It’, it’s a glittering synth-pop explosion filled with cheeky lyrics and an irresistible bassline.
Matty Healy’s self-aware humour shines through as he riffs on fame, relationships, and the band’s own reputation, making ‘The Sound’ both a catchy dance track and a clever commentary rolled into one. It's a soaring gang-vocal chorus.
"Well, I know when you're around 'cause I know the sound
I know the sound of your heart"
Live, ‘The Sound’ is pure kinetic energy. The band’s performances often turn into full-on celebrations, with the crowd erupting in unison, arms raised and voices booming. It’s a moment where the band and audience feed off each other’s excitement, creating a communal experience that’s as much about connection as it is about the music. Matty’s charismatic stage presence shines brightest here, transforming the song into a euphoric dance party that leaves fans breathless.
Though it didn’t crack the Top 10, ‘The Sound’ remains a cornerstone of The 1975’s live shows and a must-listen for anyone wanting to experience the band’s signature blend of wit, charm, and pure pop energy.
The 1975 have tried many genres, 80s pop, 00s garage, punk, jazz, electronica and on 'I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes) they try 90s Britpop and alternative rock.
'I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes) is the final track on 'A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships', and is one of the band's most emotive. It's a real personal and intense song, that does not see Healy hide behind metaphors and quick wit. It instead sees him address something rather bleak in the most human way. It's the most candid Healy has ever been and the listener is invited to take stock and listen.
The whole song makes the listener ask questions, it's full of contradictions its very title, 'I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes)' does not quite make sense at face value. However, after listening to it, you can understand what is being said. It sees the band wrestle with themes of mental health, hopelessness and the search for meaning and belief in the modern world.
I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes)’ is sonically reminiscent of 90s Britpop ballads, with soaring orchestration and anthemic production akin to Oasis or The Verve. Some critics have compared the song with 'Champagne Supernova' and 'Bittersweet Symphony'. Speaking to Sam Sodomsky of Pitchfork, Healy confirmed this by saying he strove to develop 'I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes)' as a midway point between the darkness of both the Verve's 'Bitter Sweet Symphony' (1997) and the music of Oasis, while retaining the lyrics and vocals characteristic of Manchester.
Many listeners have also drawn comparisons between this track and Radiohead’s 'No Surprises', another song that uses gentle, almost lullaby-like instrumentation to contrast its bleak lyrical themes.
The song’s cinematic scope creates a grandiose yet deeply personal atmosphere, mirroring the weight of its lyrical content. Matty Healy has never shied away from discussing mental health in his songwriting, but ‘I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes)’ might be one of his most unfiltered admissions. The title itself reflects the duality of suicidal ideation, the “sometimes” acknowledging that these feelings are transient rather than permanent. The lyrics, filled with stark imagery of loneliness and hopelessness, resonate with anyone who has battled similar thoughts:
“If you can't survive, just try” These words, simple yet profound, don’t offer a grand solution to suffering but instead validate the experience of struggle. Rather than romanticising pain, the song acknowledges its presence while suggesting endurance as an option, no matter how impossible it may seem.
I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes)’ serves as a powerful closer to an album that explores modern relationships, addiction, self-destruction, and the digital age.
Throughout A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships, The 1975 navigates the complexities of life in a hyperconnected world, and this track feels like a culmination of all those themes. Reflecting on isolation, but with a slight glimmer of hope in the acceptance of life’s ebbs and flows.
Part of what makes the song so impactful is its universal relatability. Mental health struggles are a reality for many, and this track articulates emotions that can be difficult to put into words. It doesn’t offer a resolution, nor does it sugarcoat despair. It simply exists as an acknowledgement of pain, a reassurance that feeling lost is part of the human experience.
This is the most human thing that they have ever done, and it does its best to sum up the thoughts and feelings of those struggling. Words like masterpiece get thrown about often, but this song falls into that category. A hauntingly beautiful end to a brilliant album.